Author's Notes - For effects sake, all dialogue in this chapter is intended to be spoken in Spanish, unless noted. I have included some smatterings of (possibly inaccurate) Spanish to give the overall atmosphere.

Again, a big, big 'thank you' to everyone who has left reviews so far. I really do appreciate it!

I would like to note that this chapter is probably one of the more romance oriented/sex filled in this whole fic. This does not reflect how the majority of this story will be oriented though. Also, I don't think the whole "romance" thing is one of my stronger suits, so I apologize for that ahead of time. And also as an advisory warning; although I do attempt to try to keep things within the borders of "good taste"

Chapter 1

The Acuna Boys

Part 4

Mariana

Was it me that shot him down in the cantina?

Was it my hand that held the gun?

Come, let us fly, my Magdalena

The dogs are barking and what's done is done.

No llores, mi guerida

Dios nos vigila

Soon the horse will take us to Durango.

Agarrame, mi vida

Soon the desert will be gone

Soon you will be dancing the fandango.

"At the corrida we'll sit in the shade

And watch the young torero stand alone.

We'll drink tequila where our grandfathers stayed

When they rode with Villa into Torroen.

Then the padre will recite the prayers of old

In the little church this side of town.

I will wear new boots and an earring of gold

You'll shine like diamonds in your wedding gown.

The way is long but the end is near

Already the fiesta had begun.

The face of God will appear

With his serpent eyes of obsidian.

Bob Dylan – Romance in Durango

Ciudad Acuna, Mexico. 1963

It is said that a person falls in love an average of three times during their lifetime.

Of course, statistics are often misconstrued….not to mention, how can love be so easily quantified or categorized? What is love anyways? Is it simply a chemically driven emotional response built up over the nearness of an individual, or is it something more…..unexplainable? Likewise, can a man….even a young man, who'd in time become a killer, a real sociopath, some might say a heartless bastard, have ever loved? Could he possibly look back and lay claim to that love as something real? Or was it nothing more than naive stupidity? Youthful lust? Misplaced idealism? What effect, if any, would it have on his capacity to love nearly four decades later? That is to say, that if "love" was even love at all to a person who took away life so easily with a vague sneer and the mere pinch of trigger.

There's absolutely no way to answer all of those questions clearly. But, at the very least…..there's always a story to be told. Every action has its consequence, and every hardened individual has their sweeter moments in time.

The moment Bill set eyes on Mariana; he knew he was in trouble. Big trouble.

At first, he'd been too shocked in finding out he was now a pimp to notice much about the young women standing in front of him. He was far too busy gaping at Estiban and coming to grips with his new "elevated" status to really look at Mariana or the others.

But after those few moments of shock passed, he composed himself and attempted to appear both simultaneously approachable and intimidating to the women who were now under his jurisdiction. He had absolutely no idea how to present himself to them. Hell, he had really little idea at all what it was like to be a pimp, let alone how to act like one. But, he'd been thrown into this position, and he did his best to recover from the shock of it all. After all, he'd always been good at quickly adapting to new situations.

And he probably would have pulled it off convincingly enough too, if he hadn't at that moment looked directly at the young woman known as Mariana.

Love at first sight is often thought of as an old cliché, and it would be a lie to say that Bill loved Mariana at first sight. But, he most definitely was infatuated with her at first sight. Not that this sort of event didn't happen all over the world on an everyday basis; but it was this sort of event that could impact a single individual greatly enough to make them forget the rest of the world existed at all.

Bill stood there staring at her; far longer than he done with a girl in years. She was beautiful….but she was not, say like Rhonda, a drop dead gorgeous bombshell type. Yet she was still beautiful; with high cheekbones, fair skin, shapely lips, straight long brown/copper hair, arching brows, and large dark brown eyes that were far darker than his own. He could guess she was around his age, maybe a year younger. She was tall for a woman and possessed a slim but still shapely figure under the loose dress she was wearing. In short, she was perfect in Bill's eyes. He could feel a physical effect just looking at her; and it wasn't all just sexual.

She kept her head bowed, but she offered him a small pleasant smile. God, and it was a beautiful smile.

"Bill………………….Bill?"

Estiban's voice finally registered in Bill's mind. He turned with a start, "Uh…yes…of course….."

Bill's father figure gave him a long look, but continued on, "Mariana is new here. She just arrived in Acuna a few days ago. Her mother, who is a…former acquaintance of mine, is from Mexico City."

Bill could see that in Mariana. She was new and fresh faced. He had seen what happened with these girls. They'd arrive here, looking like her…some of them even as beautiful as her. Then, within weeks, they'd seem to have aged ten years. Their faces became just as ragged and jaded as their bodies and souls. Bill felt a sudden pity for this beautiful girl….amongst other things; knowing what would happen to her. He didn't want to see it happen to her; yet he here he was….being given the very key to that corruption.

Forcing those thoughts away, Bill turned his full attention back to Mariana and extended his hand, "Very nice to meet you….."

Estiban pushed Bill's hand away before she had a chance to take it; his face suddenly hard, "You never shake your whore's hands Bill. And you speak over them, not to them."

Bill nodded slowly; taking his hand back. Well, he supposed that was lesson number one of many more to come on the rules of pimping.

Estiban then moved on down the line, "This is Julie….likewise she is new. I believe she is from…..Idaho. She speaks English, although I cannot understand the ignorant style of it that she speaks in. Perhaps you can decipher it Bill."

With some serious effort, Bill pulled his gaze away from Mariana and onto Julie. This time he made no attempt to shake hands or make greetings; and just nodded stoically at the young woman.

The first thing Bill noticed about Julie was that she appeared far too sweet to be a whore. She looked like some farmer's daughter gone astray and probably not a day over sixteen. And as Bill would find out later, she in fact was….in both cases. It turns out she'd hitchhiked from her hometown with cross country vagrants and wonderers, and somehow ended up in Acuna Mexico…..out of money and desperate to earn whatever she could, however she could. Her appearance was somewhat average. She was short, and a little on the pudgy side. Her dirty blonde hair was long and thick with a pleasant wavy texture to it. She had a wide oval shaped face, bad skin and bad teeth, but her most striking feature were her large sleepy ocean blue eyes. Bill could see right away why Estiban had decided to "employ" her. Her sweet looks and younger-than-legal appearance would cater to a certain clientele of customers who liked that sort of thing. But, as far as Bill thought, this girl belonged at a sock hop…..not a whorehouse.

Like Mariana, she offered him a small smile and submissive silence. Her attire was drabby and faded, and she clutched a small ribbon handled purse in her hands.

"And last, but not least...lovely Valerie." Estiban continued on down the line.

Because Valerie had been whoring for Estiban for a number of years, she innately held a higher status than the other two girls. And Estiban treated her as such; flashing her a toothy smile and even resting a hand on her shoulder.

Bill nodded again; familiar with Valerie. He remembered seeing her around throughout his teenage years. She was also one of the whores known to be close to his mother. He had no doubt in his mind that her being put under his care was any sort of accident.

Valerie was in her mid-twenties, but like most experienced whores she looked somewhat older. She had a head of long curly black hair and beady hazel eyes. She was Hispanic, but Bill guessed she had some sort of other heritage in her bloodline as well. He had thought she was pretty about five years ago….before the years of whoring had turned her into what she was. It was also widely known that Valerie had a son named Samuel who was about nine years old and of….mixed race. And by "mixed race" one meant that Samuel's father had been a black man. Times were less accepting back then as they were now.

Valerie regarded Bill coolly, and without an ounce of respect or real acknowledgement. As it would turn out, she'd pretty much always regard him this way.

The introductions having been made, Bill loitered around the living room; attempting to not to get into some sort of interaction with the women that was apparently "against the rules". He kept glancing at Mariana; finding her more alluring by the second. Valerie didn't seem all that interested in being around him more than necessary and retired to her room without a word.

It was decided that Julie and Mariana would share a room; since they were both Bill's and new arrivals. Neither made any objections; as if it would have mattered anyways, and Estiban left Bill to get them settled in.

Likewise, neither of them owned much, but Bill diligently insisted on carrying their small amount of bags from the other rooms they'd been temporarily staying in into the one bare room they were now to share.

The room was a dump. It had a blue painted door that was badly peeling and mismatched painted walls inside. The one window was covered in a thick coating of dust and small cracks. The flooring was a series of sunken in boards and the full fifteen square foot room was lit by one single bare hanging bulb in the middle of the crumbling ceiling. There were two single beds; each pushed into opposite corners. They were both stripped bare of any bedding. That was it for furnishings

It was not intended to be charming, but Bill couldn't help but feel disgusted with it. He was so particular about his own room; he couldn't stand being in a room such as this. No wonder he'd never been in this room before. It reminded him too much of that prison cell in Austin.

He glanced at Mariana and Julie as the three of them stood in this middle of less-than-charming décor. Both young women were hiding their disappointment rather well. After all, they were whores, not matrons. Perhaps they were both already accepting that reality.

"We'll fix it up," he spoke up; setting down their bags.

Mariana nodded and wondered over to the bed near the window. But Julie was looking at him a little quizzically. He glared back at her, "I said we'll fix it up….."

"I don't understand what yer sayin'," she drawled in heavily white trash accented English. "I'm…sorry…."

"Ah, that's right….," he replied in English. "Well, you'd better learn to speak some Spanish…..although; you won't need much for what you're doing to be doing. You aren't here to use your mouth to speak."

Julie looked momentarily elated to finally hear somebody speak perfect English to her. But the sharp string of Bill's words caused her to simply bow her head at the last moment.

He pursed his lips; looking as if he was going to say something else, but then he just headed for the door. His eyes flicked to Mariana once more. She was sitting on her newly claimed bed; rummaging through her bag. He wanted to stay there; to talk to her, but he knew that was stupid. He already wasn't sure if he was doing and saying the right things; he'd better not push it.

"Ah," he faltered; catching her eye, "….just…keep…..unpacking." He glanced at Julie, "Get settled in…," he added in English. With that, he turned and left the two young women to do what they needed to do.

Of course, Bill was smart enough to see what Estiban was really up to. His father figure had tactfully "given" him this new position in an effort to curb his violent path with the Acuna Boys. Estiban now saw the danger in having Bill draw too much attention to his organization with the young man's less-than-subtle actions. Bill's bar fight and consequential stint in prison was evidence enough for that concern. Besides, Estiban wasn't the young man he used to be. Obviously, he saw Bill as his heir to his kingdom of prostitution. By putting Bill in his current position, Estiban could further groom the young man to take his place upon his eventual retirement, as well as have in place a man he felt he could mold and control to his own whims in his declining age.

But Bill had no desire to be a pimp. He liked running with the Acuna Boys. He liked extorting money out of people. He liked to intimidate. He didn't want to oversee a bunch of whores. He didn't want to deal in sex. He wanted to deal in violence. He wanted to run with the boys….not control women. He loved having sex of course, but that's about as far as he wanted to go with it. Selling it just didn't appeal to him. And then when it came to Estiban's plan to mold Bill to his own whims; well the man had yet to find out just hard it was going to be to do so. Bill was simply not the type who was going to willingly allow himself to be controlled for a long period of time. He was destined to be the controller, not the controlled.

Yet, he knew he could not deny Estiban's gift. It would be a deep insult to his father figure. Bill could see the pride swelling in Estiban's eyes as they had stood there looking at the girls. And he also knew that Estiban would not want him to expose his ulterior motives for what they were; completely self concerned. Besides, the more Bill thought about it, how hard could it be to a pimp? He'd finally get to make some real money. He'd find ways to still do what he did with the Acuna Boys. He'd win Estiban's favor, perhaps making up for his recent disappointments. He'd try it out, maybe in the end, it would work out. Most of all, he could be near Mariana.

But when it came down to the fine linguistics of pimping; Bill was admittedly a little hazy. He spent the first day of his new position in awkward and ill-fitting confusion. He hated not being confident in what he was doing and he just ended up in a bad mood. The next afternoon, he bit down on his massive self pride and approached Estiban with a series of questions.

Of course, the senior pimp had been expecting that to happen. He had set it up so Bill would have to approach him for help. It was a way to assert his power in a subtle and self glorifying way. Estiban did not lack in tactful cunning and Bill ended up certainly soaking up on that trait.

With a knowing smile Estiban waved Bill to join him in the living room for their little talk. Bill would never forget that talk. And while he would be apt to disregard some of what Estiban was about to tell him; it would later became a memory he would tap into for some of his own ways of operating.

He remembered it well; it was a muggy afternoon, and they sat down across from each other in that slightly too dark, slightly out of date living room. Bill seated himself in his favorite old recliner. He used to love to curl up in this chair and read comics by the dim lamplight. Now, his legs were far too long, and he didn't read his comics all that much anymore; such is life.

Estiban seated himself on the couch; leaning back and crossing his legs in that sophisticatedly suave way of his. He lip up a cigarette.

It was then that Bill noticed the first touches of grey in the older man's mustache, nothing much…a smattering really, but it was there and it reminded him of the passage of time. Estiban was no longer the smooth faced youthful man of his childhood, just as Bill was no longer the child obediently at Estiban's elbow; again, such is life. After a moment, Bill lit up a cigarette of his own; being their ritual.

Then, leaning forward, Estiban began with a mantra of sorts: "A pimp is second to God." He spoke in his trademark accented English, "God created life, he controls life. A pimp controls sex and sex is the most powerful factor in life."

Bill was apt to disagree. In his mind, the man who was the most powerful was the man who controlled death…..he was truly second to God. Sex meant nothing in the wake of death. But he did not voice his opinion, knowing Estiban had strong beliefs in the sanctities of pimping, and instead just nodded.

Biting down on his cigarette, Estiban pointed at the younger man, "Remember Bill, you must be both the whore's protector and their punisher. They must love you, yet fear you. The mere thought of disobeying you……or leaving you, should cause them to panic. Without you, they would be lost." He leaned back, and then added sharply, "You are not to be their friend. You do not spoil them when they do not deserve it. You must not be afraid to be cruel was necessary. And in those moments, where the whore truly deserves punishment…..you must execute it without a touch of remorse or hesitation. If she sees you hesitate…even for a second, you have lost your advantage…she knows that you are weak. And she will exploit it…I assure you." He inhaled, eyes partially shutting in thought. "Now, when the whore is very good…….you are good to her. You treat her better….show her that by being good, she has won your favor. We have talked about his before, yes?"

Bill nodded; a vague memory sparking…..although he remembered that being more in the context of women in general. But then again, to a man like Estiban….a whore and a woman were one in the same.

"Mrm, yes," the older pimp mumbled; eyes back on his protégé, "I have been a pimp……for nearly twenty five years Bill, and I will tell you the one thing you should never do…first and foremost. This is the most important thing." He paused for effect, "Never…..." he pointed the burning end of his cigarette at Bill, "…..ever…….ever…..sleep with your own whores."

Bill sat silently, unsure if he should respond to that.

"Never," Estiban repeated; obviously vehement about this rule, "….it is the biggest mistake a pimp can make. It will ruin the entire operation. You will regret it. It is simply not worth it." His dark eyes flashed with intensity, "You understand?"

"Yes," Bill replied flatly.

Gazing at Bill a few seconds longer, Estiban moved on. He pulled a small ledger out of his jacket breast pocket. "Now," he began, "….let us discuss more business type of matters…"

And so the two of them spent the better part of the next hour going over the entire business side of pimping. Bill learned all about in calls and out calls, how to handle Johns, the difference in fees, what a whore could and could not do with a John, how much to pay a whore, and how to deal with sick prostitutes. Apparently Estiban had a deal with a doctor in town, and every month all of the whores were given a check up, for a reasonable price.

In short, Bill was given the Cliff Notes version on pimping. He couldn't say he had desperately wanted to really learn any of that, but he took it all in as eagerly as he possibly could muster.

Estiban also leant him use of his old Morris Minor. It was a little too old time classic for Bill's taste. He liked fast cars, the Minor barely ran; hardly a roadster. But he wasn't going to turn it down either. It was a car after all.

And thus began Bill's career as a pimp. Which as fate would have it, would not last all that long.

Over the course of that year, Bill was soon happy to realize that he was indeed not going to be destined to be a short man. He'd grown nearly three inches in height over the last couple of months; a sudden but well needed growth spurt. It gave him a good excuse to get rid of all of the worn out pants of his teenage years and get some things that were more up to date with his more "mature" aesthetic. Likewise, he'd finally started to put on some visible bulk; his shoulders began widening and his chest and arms were actually starting to show some muscle. And when he looked in the mirror, it was less the round face of a boy and more the lean face of a man that he was seeing. He'd even had to start to actually shave; which he quickly realized was not quite as glorified as he'd thought all of those peach fuzzed faced years of before. His hair was longer than ever, falling past his shoulders. Estiban was horrified, but Bill was far too attached to the look now to be pressured out of it.

During these gradual physical changes, he noticed that those around him begin to treat him slightly differently. Many men seemed a little more intimidated with him; now that he was taller than the average Hispanic man. Women now seemed to look at him with some sort of newfound interest.

And women luckily included Mariana.

He first noticed her looking at him one evening when he was reading in the living room area. Now that he had to keep track of what was going on in the house, he often could not hide in his bedroom like he used to. Reading in the living room wasn't quite as private or comfortable; but it sufficed.

He'd looked up in annoyance as the television in the other room was suddenly turned up to an obnoxiously high level. But his glare quickly faded as he found himself staring right back at Mariana. She was standing in the adjoining dining area, leaning partially against the wall; wearing a long loose red summer style dress. One elegant arm was draped over the back of a nearby chair. Her other hand was clasped around her exposed shoulder. Her long hair framed her softly chiseled face perfectly.

She was looking right at him; there was no questioning that. Her full mouth was upturned into a small smile; her dark eyes intense. She looked neither dreamy nor stupidly intoxicated by his presence. But she did look………..intrigued.

How long had she been looking at him? And why hadn't he noticed? Had he been so absorbed that he could miss a look such as that?

He lowered the book in his hands a little; returning the smile; although he doubted his smile was half as alluring as hers. He wanted to say something, but it seemed like one of those moments where talking would just cheapen it. And even though the volume of the television in the other room remained far too loud, he suddenly couldn't hear a damn thing.

She continued to look at him for a moment longer, and then with a slight widening of her smile, she pivoted away and melted into the dim lighting of the dining room.

He sat there staring at the space where she had been. He wasn't exactly sure how to take what had just happened. Perhaps he'd just imagined it; seeing what he'd wanted to see. But somehow he knew that wasn't the case…..and it only made him more frustrated with this whole arrangement.

Bill had spent the first few days of his new "career" decidedly avoiding Julie and Valerie because he didn't exactly know what to tell them, and avoiding Mariana because every time he saw her…….well, he had a sudden rush of unspeakable thoughts. But after the talk with Estiban, he became a little more confident in his new role and got the girls down to work, so to speak. He gradually began to adapt to his new role; and not without some form of satisfaction.

Bill quickly found out that pimping wasn't all that hard. Of course, he was only dealing with three whores. But, beyond the minor tasks of arrangement, basic bookkeeping and general overseeing, there wasn't much to it. The girls fucked, and he made sure everything went as planned. He also made sure their fees were paid in full and divvied out the percentages to them. There was little to no trouble with them; no big dramas or health issues. The Johns didn't give him any shit, and seemed happy to pay up. Bill suspected his previous actions with the Acuna Boys might have factored into that though. Acuna wasn't that big of a town; word spread quickly.

The first few days he remained occupied with helping Julie and Mariana fix up their room. Estiban insisted he was being far too generous with them. But when Bill suggested that men would be far more willing to stick around and have even more sex in a nicer room; Estiban grudgingly agreed to the idea. They repainted everything, found some acceptable bedding, cleaned the window, and found a decent light fixture. Bill even managed to round up some small pieces of furniture to complete the set up. He enjoyed it mostly because he was in close proximity of Mariana, but he had to admit he liked being around both girls….and the three of them had some carefully hidden joking moments; throwing paint at one another and other such juvenile silliness. Sadly that project only lasted a couple days before coming to an acceptable completion and it was time to get down to business.

Bill now spent many hours sitting around reading, and finally understood why Estiban liked reading books so much. He read the Japanese self defense book three times and went back to the second hand store where he'd gotten it to see if they had anything else like it. They didn't, beyond a small leaflet from the 1940's on how to disarm an attacker with a bull whip; seemingly not very useful.

He did spend some time drinking and playing pool with Carlos when he could get away from the house for a few hours. But he found that he was pretty much tied to the house during all its hours of operation. Sometimes he'd drive around downtown with the girls walking the streets, rounding up out calls, but he preferred to have them take calls in the house. He found he was already far too protective of them to happily send them to a stranger's place.

He went about all of this as detached as possible. The concept of prostitution was far from a new one to him; and he had grown numb to any moral implications it entailed years ago. But when it came to Mariana, he was having difficulty dealing with his growing infatuation with her and the very real task of having to send her out to have sex with paying strangers. It was not your typical situation to say the least, and he was finding it harder and harder to deal with on a daily basis.

They talked a number of times. Usually it was very brief exchanges and within the presence of the other girls. But Bill quickly made his mind up that it had not been his imagination before; when Mariana had looked at him like she had. She continued to look at him like that, and he found himself returning the look willingly. He didn't like the fact that he wanted her and he couldn't have her. He was used to always getting the girl that he wanted; it was simply part of his egocentrically driven make up.

Finally, about three weeks into the whole set up, he got a chance to talk to her alone.

It was about mid afternoon on a weekday; not exactly the busiest time in a whorehouse. Bill was in the kitchen, rummaging through the refrigerator. He was going through a phase where he was basically hungry all the time. There was never enough food in the house to satisfy him and he found himself searching through the refrigerator multiple times a day and coming to the same conclusion.

Mariana strolled into the kitchen. She took a glass from the top cupboard and began filling it with tap water.

He peered at her from over the rim of the fridge, admiring her as she stood in front of the sink. "How are things going Mariana?" He spoke up after a moment; shutting the refrigerator and leaning against its cool surface.

"Good," she turned, offering him a quick smile as she took a long sip from her glass. "Not very busy….."

"Hrm," He responded flatly, not really wanting to talk about 'business' with her at all. He hated that she was a whore. He wanted to tell her how he felt. But how could he tell her that, being her pimp?

"You speak English well?" She asked him suddenly; long fingers curling around the glass of water.

"Yes….I was born in the States. My mother, she taught me when I was young. Estiban taught me more as I grew up….and Spanish of course."

She fiddled with the glass, "Will you……..teach me some English? I know a little…but I am not very good. I would like to learn more."

Bill tried to hide his elation at this proposition, "I'd love to……," he smiled. After a long moment of smiling at her like a damn idiot, he caught himself and crossed arms over his chest. "Ok….say something in English to me."

"Mrm…..." she straightened up, eyes lifting to the ceiling in concentration, "You….," she bit her lip….."…..you…..are like….reminding of….the….star…..James Dean?" Mariana's English was indeed not very good; broken and heavily accented, but she at least knew some and was willing to try.

Bill laughed out loud at the randomness of that analogy, "I'm a rebel without a cause then?"

"I…..do not know….," she faltered; blushing a little.

Perhaps that reference was a little too obscure for her basic English. He tried a different route. His laugher died down into a small smile. "What else do you like about me?" He said in much slower English.

"I like………your voice…."

He laughed again, "My voice?" He'd never really thought twice about the sound of his own voice, except that he was glad it had now finally lowered to a respectable level.

Mariana nodded; her own smile bright, "The other………girls they think so…like me……..I hear them…a few days ago…..talk…..about it."

He found it odd that women found something like a voice as a thing worth talking about….as if it was were a feature that was truly alluring. This was a strange new concept to him, but one he would file away and certainly not forget. He rose a brow; stepping backwards to sit on the edge of the counter. "What else do they say?"

She played along; putting down her glass and leaning her elbows on the counter next to him," Some say…….think you…..are….handsome…..in….a…strange way."

"Strange way?" Bill laughed yet again; not exactly sure if that as a compliment or not. "And….what do you think Mariana?" He spoke softly.

"Think?"

"What….do you think of me?"

"I…..think you……are….handsome too……," she averted her eyes.

His lip curled, "In a strange sort of way?"

"No……in…..a good…..sort of way."

"And?"

She turned away, smiling shyly. "And……that is all…."

Funny that she was being so shy with him now, when she'd been openly staring at him since she'd met him. His smile turned sly as he returned to speaking in Spanish," No, I don't think that is all." He leaned further down so that their heads were nearly touching. His voice dropped to whisper, "I think you should go out with me tonight." He was still as self assured as he had been with Rosilinda; except this time he was pretty damn sure he wasn't going to get slapped. "We can go to the movies….and then we can go out to the desert. Have you ever been out to the desert at night?"

She shook her head.

"It's beautiful," he continued on in that whisper, "You'll love it…"

Mariana shook her head; brushing long strands of hair out of her face, "No, I can't do that Bill." She took a little step back, "It's…not right."

"Sure it is." He leaned forward, "Estiban doesn't have to find out. I'll tell him you are on out call with a John…but you'll be out with me instead."

She snickered "Does that mean I have to do with you what I would do with a John?"

"No, of course not…….," he paused; his own smirk appearing, "….not unless you want to….."

"Ok….," she nodded after a long moment of consideration.

Bill's smart ass smirk widened, "Ok….you want to go out with me tonight…..or ok you want to do with me what you'd do with a John?"

She shoved him, rolling her eyes, "Stop…you know what I mean…."

He laughed, pressing his shoulder back up against hers. "We'll sneak out after dinner….," he murmured close to her ear, "Nobody will-"

The sound of footsteps caused him to stop. They both turned as Valerie entered the kitchen. She sent a long dark look in their direction as she opened the corner cupboard. There was a few seconds of thick silence where nobody spoke or moved.

Then, sliding off the counter, Bill made a smooth exit. But not before he did, he flashed a quick smile at Mariana.

Getting out after dinner was as easy as Bill had known it would be. He told Estiban he was going to go see Carlos and that he was taking Mariana to an out call along the way. Mariana had changed into a nice sandy colored brown summer dress, which Bill would soon learn was very characteristic of her style. They drove to the local movie theatre; which was on the other side of town. Mariana wanted to see "Marry Poppins", Bill flat out refused that just after seeing the poster alone. He wanted to see "A Fistful of Dollars", but Mariana didn't seem too into that. So, finally they came to the compromise to see the new James Bond film, "Goldfinger."

While watching the movie, Mariana didn't seem to object to letting Bill put his arm around her shoulders. He might have tried more if it wasn't for the fact that they both got too much into the film to want to miss any of it.

Afterwards, they spent the short drive to the desert, in hysterics.

"My name's…..Pussy…. Galore……," Mariana cooed in a relatively decent impression of the infamous blonde Bond girl.

"Ahhhh…Pussy…..." Bill replied in his best Connery impersonation; turning to her with a dramatically raised eyebrow, "…..I must be dreaming…"

Knowing that area of desert fairly well, Bill found a good spot to park the car. Opening the door for Mariana; he took her hand and excitedly led her across the sand. "There's a great spot just up here….where the sand has been piling up for probably a good five thousand years……"

Mariana stared wide eyed at the massive expanse of dunes and the star dotted sky overhead as they walked on. "It is beautiful…….," she murmured. It was a perfect night. The air was slowly growing cooler and there was a subtle refreshing breeze skirting over the normally scorching sand.

Suddenly Bill let go of her hand; falling into a crouch. "Quiet," he hissed; eyes focused on something a few feet in front of him.

She gaped at him; completely taken off guard.

He slowly crawled onto his hands and knees…and then flat out on his belly…then he began inching forward gradually.

Mariana stifled a massive giggle; her shoulders shaking under the effort as she watched him do this.

With a lighting quick movement, he reached out and snatched the object of his attentions right out of the sand. "Gotcha, you little fucker!" The thing cupped in one hand; he picked himself up and held it out to her.

She stared down into his palm; squinting through the dim evening light.

"It's a horned lizard," he said; picking it up between his thumb and forefinger. It was indeed small grey lizard, covered in a variety of small bony bumps. The most prominent were around its neck. "See…the bumps…I guess they look like horns…..this one's a baby though. Here….." He placed it in her open palm.

Mariana held the tiny thing in her hand; a small smile on her face. "He's cute…"

"The babies are cute," he shrugged, "But the big ones are as ugly as sin. They're all over the place….it's just hard to see them. They camouflage well…"

"Oh shit!" She cursed as the lizard suddenly squirmed out of her hands and made a frantic leap back into the sand, where it scuttled away too quick to really see where it where it had went.

He laughed, "Do you want me to find you a tarantella now?"

She shook her head adamantly, "No thanks…I think I'll stick with the lizards."

By the time it was completely dark, they finally managed to make it to the top of the big dune; where they were happy to sit down and enjoy the view. There was of course no denying the sexual tension between them. And it was hard to concentrate on much else. Bill spent much of the time talking about things he wasn't really even thinking about; just to fill in space. He tried to teach her some more English. Mariana nodded and smiled, and not without some real interest in what he was saying. But she seemed more interested in him beyond the wordly knowledge that Estiban had taught him.

Noticing that she was shaking a little as the night grew chillier; he removed his jacket and carefully placed it around her shoulders. He moved behind her, freeing her long hair from underneath his jacket and running his hands gently over those straight locks; brushing it out against her back.

He knew it was all about being smooth; making sure that every movement seemed intentional; even if it wasn't. It was also important that a woman was comfortable. He was much more in tune with these things now; having moved far beyond those days of adolescent fumbling.

"Is that better?" He said softly, leaning towards her left ear.

"Yes, much better……thank you," she replied in a whisper, adjusting the jacket slightly against her shoulders. But she was still shaking.

He went back to smoothing out her hair, fingers lingering just a little longer against her temples and the base of her neck each time he repeated the motion. If there was ever a book entitled "The Art of Seduction", Bill had read up to about Chapter 3 at this point in his life; still somewhat of a novice but certainly possessing a good enough catalogue of reference material. He had thus far been respectful yet amusing; it was time to turn on a little of the charm.

His hands paused on her shoulders; giving them a little massage, "You're still shaking. Are you still cold?"

Mariana shook her head, "No……well….a little…….I'm sorry…..I-"

"Shh…..." he hushed her quickly; moving up closer behind her and wrapping his arms around her shoulders. "…there's nothing to be sorry about." He rested his chin lightly on the crook of her shoulder; eyes hooded.

She leaned into the embrace willingly. And she reached up to place a hand over one of his own.

"You know Mariana……," he began slowly, "….I care a great deal for you already. I would give you anything you want. You name it; I'll give it to you." His lips brushed just barely against her neck as he spoke.

She laughed a little. It seemed somewhat of a preposterous comment, but Bill was known to make those.

He glanced up at the profile of her face, "No, I'm being serious….what do you want?"

"I…….,"

But she never answered his question; she simply turned suddenly around and kissed him. He'd been expecting that of course, but not just yet. Was that what she had wanted then? Or was that simply the easy out to the question he'd proposed? No matter, Bill didn't care anymore. He was instantly too occupied with openly accepting her kiss to care about anything else. He realized that this was second time that a woman had suddenly kissed him like that; strange.

She was a great kisser, but that didn't come as too much of a surprise. And she was likewise a fast mover; within less than a minute of this impromptu make out session, her hands had wandered from his hair to unbutton his shirt. So naturally, he responded by sliding his hands from her smooth thighs to underneath the loose hem of her dress.

"We can't…….," she whispered a moment later; contradicting herself by pulling him down on top of her.

"We can….," he breathed,"…but I'd rather not on the sand…..."

She laughed against his mouth; yanking his tucked in shirt loose from his slacks. Eventually they did make it to the car. Bill had never had sex in a car before; it was about damn time he try it out.

Well, there went the "date"; now on the lustful downward spiral of youthful sex. They'd tried to make it normal, they really had. But who were they kidding of course? Mariana was a whore, albeit a new one. And Bill was the kind of young man who was certainly more on the promiscuous side than most young men his age in the early 1960's.

And yes, at first it was pretty much about sex. After all, that was always how Bill had related to women, not just in his basic depth of interaction with them, but also in the realm of what he'd grown up around. He wasn't exactly objectifying them….it was simply all he'd known so far. In his lifetime, there would be those who say he was the biggest misogynist since Pablo Picasso, and others who would say he was a real "woman's man"; one who truly empowered women in the deadliest of ways possible.

But at eighteen, he was too young to be called either. All he knew was that he had a sudden and deep infatuation with a woman who was supposed to be whoring for him. And even that realm of responsibility and position was easily forgotten in moments of passion.

Afterwards, they drove back to Estiban's and snuck into his bedroom…..sloppily dressed, only to rid themselves of their clothing once again. Nowadays Bill was pretty open about bringing girls in his room, but it was a little different when the girl was supposed to be whoring for you…not sleeping with you. So, they made sure to keep the whole thing as…..quiet as possible.

Like many of those perched on the edge of adulthood, Bill's bedroom had gradually moved into a more "mature" arena of décor. He had long since taken down the silly old western posters and the shelves of army men and wooden horses. A few of the pin ups remained, along with a few choice comic books, but the rest were packed away. On a whim, Bill had removed the glass panes from all of his windows; .Julio had taught him how to do that trick years ago. He left the screens of course. He replaced the glass with thin woven bamboo slatted mats he'd bought in Tijuana a few months back. He didn't know much about bamboo at that point in his life. But he liked how it looked, and the way the sunlight shone through it; it gave his room a very open air tawny look. They were meant to be slept on really, but they sufficed as windows just fine enough in arid Mexico. He got rid of his small single bed and replaced it with a low queen sized futon. He became obsessive about keeping his room clean and well balanced. These were the days long before the Western obsession with Feng Shui but perhaps in his own way Bill was practicing it already.

That next morning after his "date" with Mariana, when he woke up next to her in his room, Bill finally realized just what the big deal was about waking up next to somebody. He'd never really experienced that before…..and it was really nice.

He had propped himself up on his elbow, as he'd woken up before her, and spent sometime watching her sleep. He desperately wanted to touch her, but he didn't want to wake even more, so he simply continued to look upon her still features with open affection.

Finally, she stirred; eyes fluttering open. Upon seeing him she smiled.

'Hello…..." he murmured; kissing her softly.

"Hello…..." she replied, mimicking the trademark English word with decent accuracy. She wrapped her arms around his neck; pulling him in even closer. "Why is it that you are better in bed than any John I've been with?" Her lip twisted, "Not that I've been with allot of men……"

He laughed, running his fingertips over the soft expanse of her torso. He was momentarily distracted, but then his eyes turned back up to her face, "I suppose it's because I know what women want."

It was Mariana's turn to laugh as she shoved him away playfully. "And you're pretty full of yourself too."

He flashed her a brash smile, "Guilty as charged." But he grew more serious after a moment; watching her intensely as she moved to sit on the corner of the bed to brush out her long hair. "Tell me about yourself."

She glanced at him over her shoulder, "No…..I mean…well…..men never want to hear that sort of thing. You're just being nice."

"No, I'm not nice," he replied bluntly, "….but I am curious."

"Ok…." Setting aside her brush with a quick smile, she crawled back under the sheets. It was obvious nobody had ever really asked her about herself. She seemed excited to tell him. He found out that she had been born and had grown up in Mexico City. Her mother had been a prostitute; thus why Estiban had been 'acquainted' with her, but now she was…'retired'. She ran a small laundry mat in the poor barrio where she lived. Mariana also had a younger brother, who was basically a street thug. She described to Bill what it was like to live in a Mexico City slum, and why she had to get out.

When he asked her why she'd become a prostitute, she simply replied with "It's all I know how to do."

He frowned; a hand aimlessly toying with the ends of her hair, "Then why not change that? Why not try to become more than you know how?"

She shifted her head against his chest, where she had recently settled it, "I suppose….it is because nobody has ever told me or taught me otherwise…"

"Hrm"

She glanced up at him with a mischievous look in her eyes, "And why haven't you left Acuna? Why not become more than you know how?"

"Because I haven't had any real reason to leave yet…..and……," he shifted a dark look down on her, "….because I already know that I will become more than I am now."

Even though Bill's original plan was to try to keep running with the Acuna Boys when he could, he found he didn't have as much time to devote to them as he'd thought. And now with this pleasant turn with Mariana, he'd pretty much given up on that plan. But, he still did his best to see Carlos when possible.

So when they could, the two of them would go and play pool at a local bar they'd both come to love. Sometimes Juan, the idiot who'd partnered with them on their numerous extortion trips, would be there too. Bill was disappointed to find out Juan had not in fact accidentally killed himself yet. There was still time of course.

Carlos found Bill's forced change of "career" quite amusing.

"So, do you get to sleep with your whores?" The heavyset eye-patched man asked Bill one night as he was setting up a corner shot in their current game of pool.

"No," Bill replied with a smirk. It was the truth, but that didn't mean he was following it completely. He took a long drink from his beer bottle, "….it's not good for business."

Carlos pocketed his shot perfectly and stood up with a grin. "Could you cut me a deal maybe?"

Bill smirked, "Fucker." He set aside his beer and rounded the pool table. He wielded his pool cue and pointed it at his large friend. "For you, I'd have to charge you more. You need two women…..maybe three."

Carlos laughed good naturedly, "Damn straight." He was used to Bill's quipping sense of humor at this point and was apt to play along.

"Fucking shit!" Bill cursed; scratching his shot. He was terminally bad at pool and he could never quite figure out why. Carlos was always beating him, and he often wondered why he kept playing him.

Deep down, Bill missed Julio a great deal. Carlos was a good guy, but he could never replace the friendship Bill had shared with Julio. But thinking about everything that had happened with Julio was somewhat unsettling and Bill tended to tuck it away; never to be fully dealt with. Carlos was a safe bet kind of friend. He was not the type to get himself killed on you, and he was far more willing to sit back and take verbal abuse.

"You asshole," Bill snarled from the corner of the pool table as Carlos racked in a double shot and easily won the current game.

"Was that Paso's or Dollars we were betting in this time?" The other man asked causally; barely hiding a gloating smile.

"Dollars…..." Bill grated; digging his wallet from his back pocket. "You keep at this and I'm going to have to start whoring myself out."

Carlos bent over the pool table with a roar of laughter. A couple of guys from the neighboring table glanced over sharply. Smirking, Bill reached over and slapped Carlos on the back, "It wasn't that funny mi amigo." He stuffed a hundred dollar bill in the man's open mouth and headed for the door, "I'm done…"

Spitting the money out into his hand, Carlos followed Bill out; still chuckling, "Oh, it was that funny….." he said with a snicker.

They headed towards the Morris Minor in the parking lot.

"Have I told you how much I love your new car?"

"Shut the fuck up Carlos."

"At least you can't go over fifty in this one….," the other man mumbled as they got in. Carlos wasn't about to forget that Bill nearly killed him last year when they'd stolen that parked car.

Bill pretended not to hear his friend; instead typically lighting up a cigarette and driving stoically.

"So…about getting me a whore..?"

"No," Bill paused, "Unless you want to hand me back that hundred…..then I might be able to work something out for you."

"Nah," Carlos shrugged; leaning back in the seat, "I think I'll keep it. How about some weed in exchange?"

"Tempting but no."

"Booze?"

"No."

"My forever and undying love and respect?"

"Definitely not."

"Well…shit," Carlos gave up, "I guess I'll die a virgin then."

This time it was Bill's turn to roar with laughter.

A few weeks later Bill was sitting out in front of the house on one of the white plastic patio chairs, reading; a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. It was late afternoon. Mariana was gone, on an out call and he was trying to not think about how incredibly jealous the thought made him. It was almost unbearable to think about her fucking some other man now. It was all incredibly frustrating. This was not how a pimp was supposed to think and he knew it.

He looked up when he heard the crunching of sandals on the driveway gravel, hoping it was Mariana returning. But it was Julie. She was walking quickly with her head bowed; causing her long dirty blonde hair to fall conveniently over her face.

He squinted at her sharply, taking a long drag on his cigarette. Something wasn't right.

She tried to walk right past him, but he stood up and grabbed her by her forearm. He snagged her back towards him. "Hold on," he said darkly; now getting used to speaking to Julie in English.

"I've gotta get inside Bill…..another call…..." she mumbled, still hiding under her thick curtain of hair.

That was a lie. There was no other call for her. Lower lip set in a frown; he tilted his head to the side; reaching out and pushing the hair out of her face.

"No…don't!" She tried to fight him, but it was too late. He'd seen enough. Her face was a wreck. Her right eye was swollen nearly shut; an angry welt. A good majority of her right cheek and brow was covered in a flaming red raw bruise. The corner of her mouth was split wide open; caked with newly dried blood.

He stared down at her; hands gingerly holding her face up for closer inspection, "Who did this to you?"

"A John."

He bit down on a wave of frustration, "Yes…..I know….," he grated, "…which John, one of the regulars……who?"

She said nothing, her eyes still downcast so as not to have to look at him as he continued to inspect her wounds.

He tilted her chin up with his thumbs; glare intensifying, "Tell me Julie. Who the hell did this to you?"

"It was Jose…."

"There's about two hundred Jose's in Acuna……which one?"

"Jose……Rios……the…the guy that works at the gas station next to Case del Sol….short guy…shaved head. He…..he got a little too violent with me….."

He released her face, "Fucker!" He spun away and made a bolt for the driveway.

"No….no, don't worry about it," she reached out and snagged onto the arm of his shirt; vainly trying to stop him, "…..it's not a big deal….he was drunk, he said he was sorry afterwards."

Bill shrugged her off easily, "Wait here……," he turned; pointing at her before he did so, "….and don't take any calls."

"I said don't worry about it Bill!" She protested vainly, flailing her arms and taking a few clumsy steps after him.

But he wasn't listening; he headed straight for the Morris Minor. Going around to the trunk, he popped it open and removed a crowbar.

"Oh God….." She whispered; a hand gingerly touching her bruised face.

Stomping back around to the driver's side, he started the car and recklessly peeled out of the driveway.

It didn't take long for Bill to find the gas station that Jose worked at. He pulled up along the line of gas pumps; easily spotting a short man with a shaved head. He was leaning against the far gas pump with a couple of other guys, smoking; stupid fuckers.

Bill jumped out of the car, slamming the door loudly. He headed straight for Jose, the crowbar clenched in his hand; his face set in a murderously feral expression.

Everybody but Jose saw Bill coming, and they all backed away. Jose barely had time to turn and look, "Wh-"

Without a second's hesitation, Bill swung the crowbar in a wide arc and cracked the other man right across the chest with the blunt end. The sickening snap of a rib or two could be heard as Jose crumpled to the pavement yelling and clutching at his ribs. Bill stood over him; teeth bared; "You want to hit somebody….you hit a man, you fucking pussy!" He reared back and slammed the crowbar down right between Jose's legs. The man screamed, instantly balling up, his eyes rolling back into his head. "I could easily crack your fucking skull open right now!" Bill spat; leaning over him, "You should count having your balls smashed as getting pretty goddamn lucky!" Jose groaned; his head rolling from side to side in perpetual agony.

Not entirely appeased, Bill crouched down and pressed his knee right into Jose's now cracked ribs. The claw end of the crowbar hovered right over one of the man's watering eyes, "Don't get near my whores ever again…," Bill growled, "….you hear me you poco mierda? I will kill you if I even so much as see your face near Estiban's."

Through his mass of tears and pain, Jose managed a nod.

Bill slowly stood up, glaring down at the man. He then spun in a full circle; the crowbar held confidently in both hands. He glowered at the group of spectators. "Any of you other anos want to fuck with me?"

A few shook their heads, as they all slowly continued to back away.

Turning away in disgust, Bill marched back to the car, and tossed the crowbar in the backseat. He jumped back in the Minor. He then roared away from the station; still fuming, and wishing he had a much flashier car to perform that dramatic exit in.

When he got back to Estiban's, Julie was inside sitting on one of the small living room couches. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, and she was rocking back and forth. She looked up as he entered.

He cast her a sharp look, lip twisting with dark amusement, "Jose won't be fucking anything for a long while; the mere thought of it is going to cause him extreme pain.……" He smiled, but it quickly died into a frown, "Be more careful." With that, he turned and strolled back outside, slamming the screen door behind him.

Julie silently watched him; her large blue eyes sparkling with some sort of newly found admiration.

A few nights later, something that had been bothering Bill quite a bit lately finally surfaced. It just happened to be right in the middle of having sex with Mariana. Perhaps it was because he was attempting to play the classic male longevity internal mind game of trying to think of anything but what he was actually doing. Instead, the thought only caused him to stop completely.

He stared down at Mariana, his palms planted onto the bed on either side of her head. It was fairly dark in his room, but he could see the surprised gleam in her eyes as she stared back up at him.

"Bill………………why did you stop?" She spoke up a little breathlessly.

He tried to sort out his thoughts. "Promise me something Mariana?"

She smiled, "If you will not stop like this…….then yes I will." Her hands strayed to his hips playfully.

He shook his head, long hair falling over his face. He swiped it away, "No, I'm being serious…..you have to promise me."

"Well…..." she shifted a little, "….what am I promising to do?"

"Promise me, from this moment on…….that you will not sleep with any other man than me."

"What?" Her calves dropped away from his sides, "But, how…..how am I-"

"Don't worry about that. I know how to get around it."

"But, Estiban….," she pushed herself up on her elbows, "…he will be-"

"Forget about Estiban, let me handle it all." He bent down and kissed her, "I know I can."

She backed away, "Estiban will kill you, if he finds out you are tricking him…"

He smirked, "He won't kill me."

"I don't want anything to happen to you……because of me."

"And nothing will, I promise," He whispered and ran a hand through her somewhat tussled hair "I don't want you with any other men, even it is just your job. I want you to be with me only. I can't handle thinking about you fucking other men." There he'd said it. It had been bugging the hell out of him and it felt good to finally get it out. He of course wasn't going to tell Mariana that he had absolutely no doubt in his mind that he would literally kill any man who put his hands on Mariana at this point. This seemed rather silly when it came to a prostitute. But, he had now made sure that Mariana was no longer a prostitute. She was his gal, now just posing as a prostitute. There was no denying that Bill was possessive and jealous sort; he always would be.

It was more than that though. He realized that he wanted to help Mariana. He wanted to help her become more than she had set herself up to be. She didn't need to sell her body to make money, or make her feel good about herself. She was capable of more than that. He wanted her to not only be his lover; he wanted to teach her the things he knew; make her something more. He also wanted to protect her.

"I'll protect you Mariana……," he whispered; still toying with her hair"…and I'll give you anything you want. Don't worry about Estiban, don't worry about money……don't' worry about anything……I love you."

And there they were: those infamously overused but innately powerful words. They just came out before he had time to really think about what he was saying. But once voiced, he didn't regret them. He meant it; he loved her. He would certainly question it later, but at the moment, he meant what he'd just said.

She stared up at him; her eyes widening even further. Her elegant hands strayed to his face, "Do you really mean that?"

"Yes…..." He kissed her deeply, but after a moment she pulled away.

"I…..." she faltered, "….I don't know what to say….."

In other words she didn't' know if she was ready to respond to what he'd just said. But that was fine with him; somehow he understood, and at the moment it didn't matter. It had been hard enough to say it…he wasn't sure if he was ready to hear it just yet.

He smiled; holding her face between his hands. "You don't have to say anything……"

With a look of immense relief and affection, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him down fully against her.

The next morning Bill's deception nearly almost fell apart before it had really begun.

Normally Estiban was very good about respecting Bill's privacy, but this morning he poked his head into Bill's room without knocking.

Bill was sitting on the edge of the bed, shirtless, pulling on a pair of slacks. Just the very top of Mariana's head was sticking up above the covers; a mass of dark brown hair covering her face. When he saw Estiban at the door he nearly jumped. He glanced quickly at Mariana; a sickening lump forming in his stomach.

But Estiban only smiled proudly; giving Bill a little wink.

It then dawned upon Bill that Estiban couldn't even tell that it was Mariana in his bed. Her hair color was so similar to many Hispanic women's, that it would be impossible to tell it was her. She just had to keep still….not move the covers and Estiban wouldn't know the difference.

Bill smoothly played it up. He put on the indifferent air of a young man who'd just gotten some casual ass. Approaching Estiban at the door, he smiled, jabbing a thumb back towards the bed, "Sonia," he murmured, "…you know, she works at the El Rio. I came in there last week, she gives me this look…..I told her to stop by for the night if she ever got sick of her husband."

Estiban chuckled; clapping Bill on the bare shoulder. "You're going to give me a run for my money boy…"

Bill hid a smirk. Oh yes, he certainly was.

"The reason I stopped by," Estiban continued; smoothing out his dress shirt, "…is I'm going to be leaving tomorrow for Spain. My brother Roberto has turned for the worst." Estiban had a much older brother who lived in Madrid. He'd been battling lung cancer for years. It had been an ongoing source of distress of Estiban, since he knew the inevitable outcome. "I am going to be leaving for three months."

Bill raised his brows, "Three months?"

"Yes, most likely….I have put Layla in charge of my whores." The appropriately named Layla had been Estiban's 'number one lady' for the past two years. She was a temptress extraordinaire and Bill avoided her like the plague. "I did not think you quite ready to take on the whole bunch yet. " The older pimp continued, "So, you will keep at it with your duties…..and we will see how everything is when I get back. Yes?"

Bill nodded. He was already scheming. Three whole months? "Yes…of course…." He smiled.

"Good," Estiban turned to leave. "I will check in with you before I leave." His flinty eyes flicked to the sleeping form of Mariana. "Sonia, eh? Long legs?"

Bill smirked, "Oh yes…"

Winking, Estiban left the room and shut the door behind him. As soon as it was shut, Bill up slumped against it in immense relief.

It was only a few days into Estiban's absence. Bill was sitting on the back steps; Mariana perched on his lap. Hardly anybody was around, and Bill had a suspicion that Layla had taken all of her girls somewhere to do some well needed partying. That was just fine with him. All he cared about was spending this time with Mariana.

"Look," he murmured into her ear; holding up a partially carved up piece of wood, "I started making this for you…."

She took it in her long fingers, "What is it?"

"Well….hopefully it will be a comb….," he looked at the wood chunk skeptically, "...but….then again…it might end up looking more like an archaic fork..."

She smiled brightly; laughing a little, "I'm sure it will be beautiful…." She said softly; a hand straying out to push the hair back from his forehead.

Gazing up at her with immensely warm affection; he leaned forward….

"Hola!"

They both froze and turned at the sound of the childish voice.

As noted, Valerie had a nine year old son named Samuel. Bill had seen the kid hanging around the house a couple of times in the past few years, but he'd never actually talked to him. Now that Bill was Valerie's pimp; the boy seemed interested in checking out the young man who'd 'replaced' Estiban so to speak.

'Hola," Mariana replied. She looked at the boy with innate maternal fondness.

Samuel was a striking child. He had Valerie's hazel eyes, deep brown skin and a head of dark curly hair. He was a strange but very beautiful blend of Hispanic and African-American features. He was quite skinny. His boney shoulders poked up from the dirty tank top he was wearing, and his thin legs jutted out from underneath this ripped jean shorts. He was barefoot.

Bill was instantly reminded of himself at that age.

"How are you Samuel?" He asked; shifting a little. Much to his great disappointment, Mariana stood and approached the youngster.

"Kinda shitty actually," the boy replied with a scowl. Mariana stopped and stared at him; obviously taken back by his language.

Bill just laughed, "Really?"

"Yeah," Samuel jabbed his hands in the pockets of his jean shorts. He kicked at the dirt. "So, you're my mother's new pimp?"

"That's right," Bill leaned back against the stairs and dug out his pack of cigarettes.

Samuel watched him intensely as he lit up on one of them.

"You want one?" Bill asked; holding out the pack.

"Bill!" Mariana glared at him; a hand on her hip.

"What?" he glanced up at her, "The kid wants a smoke."

"Nah….that's alright," Samuel kicked at the dirt again.

"I have some weed if you prefer that kid," Bill offered; a smart ass look focused on Mariana.

"Jesus Bill," she snarled and tramped up the steps through the back door.

Samuel gawked at her exit, and then shook his head, "No thanks….that makes me throw up."

Bill shrugged.

Without any real invitation, Samuel sent and sat down next to him. Bill glanced at the boy, once again reminded of himself. He remembered what it was like to be nine years old and living in this house. He knew what it was like to have a whore for a mother.

"So……I heard you….beat people up," the boy piped up; picking at the crumbling asphalt with his fingernails.

"I've done some of that……yes," Bill replied with a bemused smirk.

Samuel turned to look up at him, "Can you teach me to beat up some kids at school."

Bill's brow furrowed. He took a long drag on his cigarette, "What did they do to you?"

Samuel bent his head back to the asphalt, "They are always giving me shit…….pushing me around. Making fun of me….calling me all sorts of names…..because of my mother….and because…….," he paused, "….of my skin color….shit like that, ya know."

Bill continued to look at the boy with an introspective expression. He had always been just a little too light to be accepted, and in Samuel's case, he was just a little too dark. They seemingly shared this strange bond, and Bill had a sudden rush of sympathy for the kid. "Alright….," he agreed finally, "I've gotta go inside and gravel at my girl's feet right now…." Samuel grinned at him. "But," he tossed aside his cigarette, "…why don't you come back tomorrow….same time. I'll show you a couple things that helped me out when I was your age."

Samuel jumped up. "Great!" A bight smile split his dark face, "Gracias!"

"Su bienvenida," Bill nodded.

"Hey uh….," Samuel's eyes darted to the partially exposed pack of Chesterfields sitting in the pocket of Bill's shirt, "Could I get a smoke from ya now?"

Smirking, Bill held out the pack to him, "But of course."

"Bill, I want to go to L.A….to see The Beatles play."

Julie had this way of just walking in and saying the most stupidly ridiculous things. Sometimes it just rubbed Bill the wrong way.

"What?" He put down the book he'd been reading. She was supposed to be taking a call, not pestering him about going to goddamn L.A. to see some obscure band play on stage.

"The Beatles…ya know…they're from England. It's their first US concert tour….and they are comin' to L.A. in a couple months. I wanna go." She looked at him earnestly with those huge blue eyes of hers.

He shook his head; dismissively going back to his book, "No, you're not going."

"But all of the girls my age are going!"

"Neither are all of the girls your age whores. I said no. You need to work." He was having trouble covering the dividend for Mariana not working. Somebody had to pick up the slack.

Julie's eyelids drooped, easily defeated by his sharp retort. "Oh…alright….." She turned away solemnly.

Once her back was turned, he glanced up from his book; regarding her with a pensive look as she trudged down the hallway towards her room.

Later that week, while running some errands downtown, he stopped into the one and only real music store in Acuna. It was run by an elderly man who'd been old for as long as Bill could remember seeing him around. The store was small and cluttered, but it was not without a good selection; so when Bill approached the counter and asked if there were any Beatles albums in stock he wasn't all too surprised to find out there was in fact some on the shelves. He of course, assumed this was because of the good variety the wise old owner kept, and not because of the notoriety of some stupid teeny bopper band.

That afternoon, Bill found Julie sitting on her bed. She was writing furiously in a small diary style book. She glanced up nervously when he sauntered in; hands behind his back.

"Oh….I'm sorry Bill…..I…uh….I was just resin' for awhile…no calls right now…..." She closed and set aside the diary. Her eyes flickered to his chest, "Whatcha hidin back there'?"

He just smiled at her slyly as he sat down next to her on the edge of the bed; sneakily positioning himself so she couldn't see what he was holding.

She laughed a little and tried to maneuver around him. "Come on, show me!" Her eyes danced as she made a grab, but he quickly moved away. "Show me!"

Laughing now as well, he easily averted her. But after a moment of that little game, he gave in and held the record out to her.

She stared at the record; aptly titled "Meet The Beatles" for a few seconds. A large black and white picture of four mop headed hipsters stared back at her from the cover. "Oh my god….," she whispered. "Oh…..wow………" She reached out to take it, but quickly looked up at him.

"It's yours," he replied; smiling widely now.

"But……I…….I don't have a record player….."

"Use the one in the living room……"

"Oh…..oh no….I can't do that……I can't take this either…….you bought it…"

"I bought it for you…..." he said softly, pushing the record into her hands.

She took the record as if it were the most precious thing she'd ever held. And to a girl like Julie; that was very likely. She'd come from nothing, She'd never had much and nobody had ever bought much of anything for her. A record was far more than simply a record to her.

She pressed the gift to her plump chest; her chin bowed in gratitude. "I don't know what ta say Bill……thank you…."

He raised a brow, "Just remember, you can play it as much as you want while Estiban is gone….when you're not working of course, and not loudly. But when he gets back….you're going to have to find somewhere else to play it. Or get your own record player……ok?"

She looked up him, eyes gleaming with moisture, "Oh yeah…of course…sure thing Bill……." Then suddenly she threw herself at him; flinging her arms around his neck. The record was momentarily sandwiched between them. She kissed him enthusiastically on the cheek; whispering; "Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you….. She moved to kiss him on the lips, but he placed a finger over her own set before she could make any real contact.

"No." He said sternly; glaring into her closely positioned face, "No…"

She pulled away quickly; her plump cheeks reddening, "Aww….jeez….sorry Bill…..that's not what I meant…..sorry….."

"It's alright," he said in a softer tone; smoothly letting it go and pushing the record back into her arms. "Now, you better be careful with that thing."

She glanced at him excitedly, "Do ya think it's gunna be worth somethin' big someday?"

He snorted; standing up, "Hell no…..I was just worried you were going to scratch it beyond playability."

"Oh yeah….," she laughed nervously and gently set the record aside. "Thanks….yeah…..uh…sorry again….about the…..uh….the ki-"

"Forget it," he waved a hand and headed for the doorway. "Just remember," he added with a well meaning scowl, "….when Estiban gets back….," he made the universal throat cutting gesture and left the room with a purposefully dramatic exit.

Julie nodded, her smile brightening. She barely held back another bout of nervous laughter as she watched him disappear down the hallway.

Deciding to further take advantage of Estiban's absence, Bill and Mariana took a drive up to San Antonio, Texas. Apparently a friend of Mariana's from Mexico City had moved up there with her boyfriend a of couple months back. There was a big all county couples dance, and Mariana was dead set on dragging Bill up there to 'double date' with her friend and her friend's man. Like hell Bill wanted to go to some dance for Texan squares and momma's boys. But Mariana really wanted to go, and he agreed only to appease her.

They took the Minor of course. Bill spent the entire drive mentally willing the car not to break down somewhere in Southern Texas. But they made it, with just an hour to spare before the dance started.

The dance was being held in a large renovated gymnasium in the heart of the San Antonio suburbs. They met up with Mariana's friend and her friend's boyfriend. Mariana's friend instantly annoyed the hell out of Bill; but he kept that observation to himself. The boyfriend on the other hand seemed like a fairly decent type of guy; he smoked Chesterfield's and wore a cool black leather jacket.

Bill frowned deeply when they entered the dimmed gymnasium. It was full of middle class white people, and he had the sudden urge to turn around and leave. The only Hispanics he saw were Mariana, her friend, and a few guys out back dumping the trash. He had to keep reminding himself he was doing this for Mariana; and that was it.

The two couples meandered to a corner. Bill spent a few minutes watching the band set up on stage. At least they looked multicultural. Mariana and her friend chatted away about stuff he didn't care about. Bill noticed that his comrade-in arms, the boyfriend, had disappeared somewhere. Scowling, Bill turned to Mariana. "I'm going to go get something to eat…..." he mumbled.

When Bill approached the concessions table, he was horrified to see platefuls of tiny cookies and a massive bowel of disgustingly bright colored punch.

A plump woman personifying Betty Crocker was standing behind the table wearing a polka dot apron and a wide smile on her pink glossed over lips.

He stared down with a furrowed brow at the cardboard looking cookies set out on nauseatingly peppy colored napkins. He was fucking hungry as hell and this was not exactly what he had in mind. He was also hoping they'd at least have a bar; apparently that wasn't the case.

"What can I get ya honey?" The woman behind the table drawled ala southern Texas suburban style.

He glanced up at "Betty" with a coyly raised brow, "I'll have a scotch whiskey on the rocks."

"Can't give you that honey, how about some punch instead?"

"Southern Comfort then?" Bill remained sarcastically undaunted.

"Oh no dear," she shook her frizzy haired head, "We don't' serve alcohol here…state law. Most here aren't even twenty-one……" she peered at him a little closer in the dim lighting, as if trying to figure out exactly how old he was.

He snorted, "Alright…..I suppose I'll take glass of he gestured to the bowl of punch. It would have to do; he just wished he'd brought something to spike it with.

Smiling anew, the woman went cheerfully about pouring punch into a cup with the massive dipping spoon.

"Actually, I'll take two," he added after a moment; thinking of Mariana.

"You betcha." The woman bent down and produced a large plastic looking pitcher from underneath the table. "Bowl's almost empty, let me just pour a lil' bit more in there first…."

He gawked at the strangely colored pitcher in her hands. He'd never seen a container quite like that before. "What is that?"

The woman looked up at him, "That….my dear, is Tupperware!" He stared back at her blankly. "You haven't heard of Tupperware? Oh my goodness…it's the best thing to come out of this country since Franklin Delenor Roosevelt!" She popped open the top seal; "See?" She popped it back on, "Keeps everything fresh and tightly secured. Works like a charm! The ladies and I….from the neighborhood, we get together every Thursday afternoon and trade around all of the wonderful varieties available. A real nice fella from Tuscan comes around every month and shows us the new line……"

Bill stared at her as she rambled on; horrified. "Jesus fucking Christ." He snarled and snatched the two plastic punch glasses from her hands. He turned away before he had to hear anymore of the drivel coming out of her mouth.

He found Mariana where he'd left her; chatting with her friend in the corner. He handed her one on of the cups; frowning, "Ever heard of Tupperware?"

Mariana and her friend exchanged glances and then broke out into laughter.

"Apparently," He grumbled under his breath; knocking back the entire glass of punch in one shot. It tasted like shit. He wondered briefly where the hell the Mariana's friend's boyfriend had run off to. He was probably out back with a bunch of his friends, getting wasted; lucky bastard.

Bill scowled at the empty glass; a small heap of half-melted ice cubes remained. Had he been living under a fucking rock for the first eighteen years of his life? Well, he certainly had been living under something that attracted the dirt and scum but didn't attract Tupperware salesmen.

It was in moments like this that he realized just how little he felt a part of, or cared for 'normal' society. He never had really fully grasped how abnormal his childhood had been until the last couple of years. Apparently most young people his age didn't grow up in a house of prostitution in a corrupted Mexican border town; where they regularly got into fights, avoided their whore of a mother, shoplifted, broke into cars and houses, toted guns, drank, smoked, often slept with lusty girls, extorted money and pretty much did whatever the hell they wanted to. Not to mention Bill was pretty damn sure he was the only working pimp in this entire building, and very likely this entire county.

To each their own he supposed.

The warmth of Mariana's arms encircling him from behind rustled him out of his thoughts. "So, are we going to dance…," she murmured into his ear, "….or are you just going to stand there and be grumpy all night?"

He was tempted to stay 'grumpy', but in the end he'd rather make her happy. Turning, he took her hand with a sly smile. "Very well…..but let's show these fucking squares how we do it South of the border."

And they did. They danced the night away to covers of Bobby Darin, Roy Orbison and The Supremes. For a few hours Bill could almost pretend he was a normal young man, going to a dance with this girl. But it was pretty obvious even then he stood out. All of the other young men on the dance floor were in their father's suits and sporting fresh buzz cuts. While Bill was the type that all of their mother's would have feared them to become, with his long hair, completely lacking in a proper jacket, halfway unbuttoned shirt, flashy belt buckle and languid caviler attitude.

Likewise, the way he and Marianna danced was apparently not within the norm of what was deemed appropriate. They danced as if it was some form of foreplay; which it really was. While the rest of the couples danced as if their arms had no working elbow joints, It turns out it was strictly against the rules to kiss on the dance floor, but Bill and Mariana only became aware of this particular rule when they were told to stop their fornicating or they would be kicked out.

"Goddamn squares," Bill growled and leaned in to kiss Mariana again. He could only hope they would be so lucky as to be kicked out. They received a god amount of stares and whispers from all those round them, he Bill knew they were secretly all jealous and relished in every second of it.

Afterwards, they left with a group of people that Mariana's friend's boyfriend had rounded up. They certainly weren't the typical buzz cut sort; two young black musicians from the cover band at the dance, a group of guys who looked like they raced cars on a regular basis, a few scantily clad girls, and a middle aged Hispanic man who was already drunk. Now they were much more Bill's sort of crowd. They all crowded into one of the car racer's apartments, listened to Ray Charles records, smoked some grass and hung out for a few hours. Bill felt much more at ease after that. Then he and Mariana took the Morris Minor up to the hills where they did far more than just make out.

The next morning, Bill awoke to the sun's early rays streaming in through the car windows. Mariana was still asleep; her head resting on his chest, naked body huddled up against him. The remainders of their clothing were haphazardly draped over them as makeshift covers. The back seat was neither roomy nor all that comfortable, but when one was young and lustful it was easy to make amends for such things.

He laid there for awhile; truly content. He wasn't sure what it was: the orange streams of sunlight cutting across the rich turquoise sky, the feeling of Mariana's body against his, the growing affection he felt for her…..but he was moved. So moved, in fact…that he suddenly said something he swore he'd never say; something that Julio had known he would say.

"Mariana?" He murmured.

"Hrm?" She replied groggily, shifting against him.

"Marry me…."

She picked her head up; instantly awake. She gaped at him for a few seconds, eyes wide. "You are joking Bill…..don't joke about that…that's cruel….."

"No, I'm serious." And looked it.

She stumbled over her words," We can't…..Estiban…..I mean…he'll find out…and…"

"Don't' worry about Estiban. I'll take care of it." He caressed her cheek, "We can get married away together. Maybe further south….or perhaps Texas, or New Mexico. It doesn't matter…as long as we are together."

She said nothing, staring at him; obviously still in shock.

He shifted his shoulders, "I'm serious Mariana. I want us to get married. I want us to have a life together…..I," he paused, "….I want you to have my baby."

She blinked back a sudden rush of tears. She tried to brush them away, but it was pretty useless. Realizing she was about to break down, she laughed a little. But it was a short lived laugh, and she was suddenly quite serious," I love you Bill…." She whispered; pressing her tear sprinkled face against his cheek.

He held her to him; fingers buried in her hair. After a few tender moments, he raised a brow, "Is that a yes then?"

"Of course it's a yes…..you smart ass…" She laughed; pulling away with a wide smile.

He returned the smile; dark eyes sparkling. He as so happy at that moment, that the entire world could go to hell and he wouldn't give a damn. He was going to marry the woman he loved.

Mariana traced a fingertip along his collarbone. "I don't think we should leave just yet….," she said silkily, rolling fully on top of him, open mouth coming down on top of his.

By the time they made it back into Acuna, it was well into the afternoon and Bill had to spin one hell of a story to Julie and Valerie and the rest to explain where he and Mariana had been for the last 12 hours.

They both agreed to keep their marriage pact between them for now. Once Estiban got back they would work it out with him.

Those three months of Estiban's absence were, without a doubt, the sweetest of Bill's young life. He didn't touch a gun, he didn't beat anybody up. He did virtually nothing but be with Mariana in every way possible, as much as possible. It was bliss; full of sweet and erotic moments. It was so powerful in fact, that he could almost forget everything that he had done and experienced before her. He could almost forget that he was a bastard. That he truly liked to hurt people…and that, deep down, he knew what he was capable of doing and being. During those three months he was nothing more than a young man in love for the first time.

Being with Mariana was unlike any other experience that he'd had with a woman before.

In the middle of the day they would go back into his room, with the bamboo mats hanging in the place of windows, and make love on his futon style bed for what seemed like days on end. Afterwards, he'd proudly tell her about things…things he'd done, which was allot of bad things mostly. He'd also tell her stories about where he'd been, and often they would work on her English; which she was getting much better at. Sometimes he'd even tell her about books he'd read or about some of his strange theories on things. He'd usually loose her at that point, and she'd pick up his hand and place it on her supple breasts. He tended to shut up after that.

These the happiest times of Bill's rough youth. It was one of those "summers", those periods of time in your life that were so good, so sweet, so idealized…that as you got older, you realized just how few and far between they actually were. But in the ignorance of youth it was all taken for granted; everything was so easily tossed aside for young lust and juvenile feelings of attachment.

If Bill had only known then just how few moments like this he would have in his life, he might have truly taken a moment to sit back and really appreciate it while it was happening.

He did the best he could to keep up with his pimping duties, but admittedly he was slipping in that area. He was just too distracted to care. He did keep his promise to Samuel though. Every week, the two of them would go into the back yard and Bill would teach the boy what he knew about self defense. Sometimes Samuel would join Bill and Mariana on walks, and it would be the three of them, like some strange family.

Most evenings Bill and Mariana would go to this small restaurant outside of town. It was a very old place with dim lighting and very strong tequila. Bill had gotten to know the owner through his various dealings with businesses around town.

Mariana had a beautiful voice. So, she'd get up on the small corner stage and sing with the ragged mariachi band. They'd usually sing traditional Mexican folk songs and were always a hit with the craggy old-school crowd that frequented there.

Bill would sit back in the dark corner, enraptured, his attention on nothing but Mariana as she stood up there on the stage bathed in warm red lighting. She'd cast him subtle little glances as she sang; her eyes flickering under her long eyelashes, her mouth turning up in a sly little smile. It was sexy, alluring and completely intoxicating. Often, he'd forget about the cigarette perched between his fingers, until it would burn down to a stub and singe his skin. This would usually cause him to flinch out of his reverie of his reoccurring vision of he and Mariana.

The vision of he and Mariana would always happen when he watched her sing. It wasn't just a pipe dream either; he would often slip into it fully sober. In this vision they were living together in a place that was always hot and always bright with summer sun. Everything was drenched in bright overexposed colors; sandy oranges and yellows. Mariana would be wearing one of her loose traditional style dresses; her hair brushing across her face and her bare feet padding across the sand. Then, she'd pick up a young child….their child; a dark haired, dark eyed child awash in light. The child could have been a boy or a girl….Bill didn't care either way. He'd be there, next to her….and she'd hand him the child, and he would smile…taking the toddler in his arms, bouncing it and laughing. He was never quite clear on where they were; they had little money. But they had each other…….and that was enough.

It was a youthful fantasy; trenched in idealism. In the coming years he would deny ever having such hopes and dreams for himself. But, he had…for a short time. They were unrealistic dreams, and he would never truly have been happy in such a blissfully peaceful life. Right now, he was pretending that he could. But deep down, h knew the truth: he thrived on violence, strife, a constant need for self centered and egomaniacal empowerment. That sort of life had no room for such petty things as a wife and a child. He'd even grow to eventually make fun of those who had such dreams: telling them that such things were a waste of talent and a pitiful blending into "normal" society….as if such patriarchal fantasies were something to be looked down upon. But, then again….Bill did many things during these younger years that he would later disregard any ownership of. They were traces of weakness that he did not want to fess up to.

But at the moment, he felt anything but weak. He felt perfectly content and he had high hopes that within the next couple of months he and Mariana could leave Acuna together. Mariana would never have to be a whore again; he would see to that. And even if Estiban protested to the arrangement, Bill was ready to walk out anyways.

One night; after getting back from the restaurant, Valerie confronted him out back. He had seen very little of her throughout the past couple of weeks, as if she was avoiding more than usual. Mariana had gone inside to get ready for bed and Bill had remained on the back porch to have a smoke before joining her.

"Don't think I don't know what's going on Bill," he turned to see Valerie framed in the screen door watching him intensely.

He squinted at her. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh please, I may be a whore…but I'm not stupid." She opened the door and stepped out onto the porch, "It's pretty obvious what's going on between you and Mariana. The whole house knows about it. I also know you haven't been whoring her out either. You've been making up the missing profit from your own pocket."

"I didn't know a whore could be so astute Valerie." He replied dryly.

His smug smile turned acidic as she crossed her arms, "I wonder how Estiban would react if he found out?"

"Yes, I wonder." He wasn't about to give into her little game. He knew that Valerie had never liked him all that much. He could only assume it was a combination of having the ear of his mother and resenting having been 'given' to him by Estiban after years of loyal service to the man.

"How convenient for you that he's been gone…..." she continued righteously.

"Hrm," he tossed the butt of his cigarette at her feet.

She didn't move. "Your mother knows as well."

Bill said nothing; giving her a sidelong glare.

"Oh," Valerie added, "And what the hell have you been teaching my son?"

"How to stand up for himself."

"Mamarracho!" She hissed. Obviously this topic was a little more sensitive for her. "You've been corrupting him. The other day he told me to go fuck myself. And then he came home with a black eye the week before. He proudly told me that the other kid looked far worse."

Bill resisted a proud smile. Samuel was doing just fine. He took a deep breath; attempting to keep calm. "As I said, I taught him to stand up for himself. He reminds me of myself when I was his age."

"Oh…well that's just great," she threw her hands up. "You're just about the last person I'd want my son to be like."

He raised his chin. "I highly doubt you talked to Estiban like this."

"No, I didn't….and you know why?" She glared at him furiously, "Because Estiban is a pump. You Bill, you are not. I don't know what the fuck you are….but a pimp is definitely not it."

Pursing his lips, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and ascended the porch steps. "That Valerie is perhaps the first thing we have agreed on," he growled. The door slammed behind him as he stalked into the house.

The insistent pounding on Bill's bedroom door roused him long before he had intended to wake up. The early morning sun was barely even touching the bamboo slats in his windows.

Groaning, he rolled over, bumping pleasantly into the warm body of Mariana. He smiled; a hand straying to her soft sloping neckline. The pounding on the door continued.

"WHAT?" He turned and yelled far louder than necessary.

"You've gotta get up Bill," it was Valerie; still sounding frosty with him, "It's Julie…..she's gone. She was gone when I woke up…..she's not in her room…and I can't find her anywhere….her purse is missing too……"

"Fuck," Bill cursed, rubbing his face irritably. He fumbled out of bed; quickly getting dressed.

Mariana squinted at him through groggy eyelids from under her warm cocoon of sheets, "What is it?"

"Julie," he grumbled, buttoning his shirt, "She took off."

"How do you know…maybe she's…..just out….," Mariana mumbled, still halfway asleep.

"Oh no…..she took off," he said confidently, "I know she did." He stalked out of the room and headed out to the Morris Minor in the driveway.

On a strong whim, Bill took the exit onto the northbound highway. He'd only been on the main stretch for about two miles before he spotted Julie walking along the left hand side of the road. It was barely past sunrise and her silhouette was easy to spot against the bright rays of sunlight washing off the desolate highway.

She was walking slowly, almost dreamlike. Her faded worn sundress was blowing in the soft morning breeze as her sandaled feet padded gingerly along the searing hot pavement. She was swinging her ribbon handled purse in one hand; the record he'd bought her was held lovingly in the other.

Bill slowed the car, coming up alongside her and leaned out of the open window with a deep scowl, "Julie, what in the hell do you think your doing?" He spoke in the calmest tone he could possibly muster.

She raised her chin, still walking and keeping her eyes straight forward. She didn't seem all that surprised to see him. "I'm goin' to see The Beatles, in Los Angeles…."

Bill sneered, "You're going to hitchhike to L.A.?" He shook his head, "I don't think so. Get in the car."

"No. I've hitchhiked allot……"

He slammed on the breaks, "I said get in the fucking car Julie!"

"I want to go see The Beatles!" She yelled back. She had stopped and finally looked at him. There was a look of uncharacteristic defiance in her eyes.

"You're not going to see the goddamn Beatles….," he seethed, glaring at her, "…you're going to get in the goddamn car and we are going to go back to Acuna."

Turning away, she started walking again, "I quit then….I don't want to be a whore anymore."

Bill shook his head; following alongside her, "Uh uh….good try. It doesn't work like that. You're a whore; now get in the fucking car! You can't walk the highway alone, it's far too dangerous."

She turned to him again, an excited dreamy smile suddenly on her face, "Will you take me then Bill….to the concert? We can go together….it'll be a real blast..I-"

"I DON'T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT THE GODDAMN FUCKING BEATLES!" He roared at her; slamming a fist down on the steering wheel. He took a deep breath through flared nostrils, and continued on. "What I do give a shit about is you getting in this car and getting you back into Acuna!" He leaned out further towards her, voice dropping to a threatening tone, "You're going to get in this car Julie, or I'm going to force you to get into this car….and don't think I won't either."

She said nothing; simply turning her head away from him. She rubbed her purse wielding hand across her suddenly tearing eyes.

"Don't you understand?" He hissed, "You can't hitchhike to L.A. This isn't fucking……..Venice Beach! This is a trucker route. You're going to get picked up and raped….or worse……for Christ's sake. Now get in the car!"

Glowering, he kicked open the car door and stepped out onto the highway. He snatched her by the forearm. She fought him briefly, face down turned to the pavement. Then she just flat out stopped and crossed her arms over her chest.

He held the door open for her, glaring down at her with a dark squint, "In…..now!" He jabbed a finger towards the open car door.

She hesitated, her head still bent towards the hot asphalt, the toe of her sandal tapping at the ground like a small idle child. And right then she did look like a little child; Bill realized that all this girl really wanted was to have some fun of her own. She wanted to just be a kid; a kid who didn't have to lie back and let dirty men fuck her day in and day out. She wanted her childhood back, but she'd sold it….it was too late. She couldn't go back and she simply could not understand that.

Taking a step towards her, he wrapped an arm around her round shoulders, "Julie……get in the car honey….," he said softly, completely changing his tactics, and placing a kiss lightly on her forehead , "Come on," he said gently, slowly leading her towards the car. She complied with a nod and a sniff; silently sliding over to the passenger's side. He followed her in, and slammed the door shut behind him.

Relieved that that had worked, he turned the car around and headed back into Acuna. Julie was utterly silent; her face turned out towards her window. She rubbed at her eyes and then took her time reapplying her pink lipstick from a tube she had produced from her purse. Regarding her briefly, Bill lit up a cigarette and drove on in silence.

"Can I still watch the Ed Sullivan show then?" She suddenly piped up a few minutes later; as they were nearing Estiban's place.

He glanced at her, offering a brief soft smile, "Yes…..you can keep watching the Ed Sullivan show."

She bit her lip. "You won't say nothin' to Estiban…..about this, when he gets back and all?"

"I won't tell Estiban about this." Bill had far bigger things to worry about than Estiban finding out that Julie had taken a little stroll down the highway.

She twisted the worn ribbon handle of her purse between her fleshy fingers, and flashed him a grateful shy smile, "Thanks Bill…….ya know……you're a real sweetheart. I wish more guys were like you."

Resisting a bitter snort, he frowned and said nothing in reply.

She shifted a little in the seat. "Bill……….I know about you and Mariana."

He turned to her with a casually raised brow, "Oh?"

"Yeah well….," she laughed a little, "I mean….we do share a room. And….well she pretty much ain't never there. But that's alirght….I like havin' it to myself, when Johns ain't there. It's kinda nice. I'm thinkin' I might buy that record player you mentioned with my saved up money. Do ya think that would be alright?"

Bill continued to drive, not saying anything. He had to tread carefully with this subject, especially with a girl like Julie.

"I think it's real sweet……you and her," she admitted quietly after another long pause. "Makes me wish……..I had a fella like you….."

He glanced at her with a furrowed brow, "Julie….you don't want a fella like me."

"Mariana does."

"Yes, well……sometimes things work between certain people, that wouldn't with others."

"Oh, sure I understand that….it's just-"

"We're done talking about this," he cut her off, throwing a sharp glare in her direction. "I don't want to hear another word about it from you."

She bowed her head. "Yes Bill."

The rest of the short trip was spent in silence.

The true cynic would say that every sweet dream must eventually end, and this one was just about there.

Bill was never destined to live a carefree life with Mariana; raising a child in some bright fantasy world, playing the loving husband and father. No, his life was destined to be something quite different; something far more self fulfilling, something violent and largely solitary.

The unraveling of Bill's ideal world began the day Estiban returned; although that was really just consequential. It began with one single event and went completely downhill from there. It was this series of events that would make a drastic dent on Bill, and eventually cause him to leave Mexico altogether. He'd built a house of cards, and in a matter of days, it would all crumble around him.

It all happened so quickly; the day before, Bill was completely content in his denial of who he was and loving the life he had made for himself…..the next day, it was all turned upside down.

The night before these events transpired; Bill had his childhood desert dream again. He hadn't had it for years, and he was sure he'd outgrown it. Apparently that was not the case. It was more intense than it had ever been. The imagery was much the same; the reptile morphing, the endless desert, the continuous eating of anything in the way. But this time, the emotions connected to it were extremely potent. There was a sense of almost indefinable anger and limitless rage connected throughout the entire dream sequence. He felt as if he had just killed a thousand people, and loved every second of it. It was disturbing as much as it was exhilarating. And what was most unsettling was that, while normally in the dream the faces of his victims were featureless, obscured….this time he distinctly saw the face of Julio amongst the otherwise faceless crowd.

He awoke in the early morning hours to the sound of Estiban ranting and raving from the back porch. Mariana was not next to him. Her side of the bed was cold. When he went out into the living room area; Estiban had come back inside, and was noticeably cool and short with him.

Assuming that it was only a matter of time before he had to fully explain himself to his father figure, Bill went to go find Mariana. They would talk to Estiban together. They would all have a rational discussion and everything work out just fine.

He decided to look for her first in the most logical place; the room that she and Julie shared. He rounded the hallway corner. The familiar door was partially ajar, and assuming she was inside alone, he entered the room.

He froze.

For the briefest of seconds, Bill was once again that young boy walking in on his mother fucking some stranger. But this time, it was his woman fucking some stranger. Well, just having fucked some stranger was more like it…..but it was clear enough what had happened.

Mariana was partially turned away from him; her upper body naked and exposed. A thin sheet was partially draped over her long legs. A skinny, balding man Bill didn't recognize was sitting on the edge of the bed in his briefs. He was in the process of pulling on his jeans. They both turned and looked at Bill. The man looked a little confused, but the expression on Mariana's face spoke volumes.

It hurt. It really did. Bill could act as jaded as he wanted to at eighteen years old; but what he saw…..it fucking hurt. It hurt worse than getting his nose broken, or getting sliced open with a knife. It hurt worse than Julio's death and it hurt worse than the cold shoulder of his mother. A wise man once said: 'the first cut is the deepest' and he wasn't lying either.

But Bill would have more than enough time to reflect on his broken heart later. At the moment, all he could handle was a wave of uncontrollable anger. All of those months of playing the sweet lover, of checking his aggressions and pretending to be something he was not, at that moment were all dashed aside like so many meaningless child's toys no longer wanted or needed.

He couldn't' look at Mariana…not right now. Instead, he turned his attention on the stranger, "You," he leveled a finger and a murderous glare at the hastily dressing man; voice so quiet it was barely audible, "……have about thirty seconds to run."

The man fumbled with his belt; standing up awkwardly. "What?"

Bill pulled away from the doorframe and stepped into the hallway; eyes uncharacteristically wide and gleaming, "That's how long it's going to take me to get my gun…."

The man stared at him; jaw agape.

Bill backed away slowly; that nearly forgotten maniacal look in his eyes increasing.

"Run….."