A few days passed, each one like the last: Joey slept late and so Ella found she too slept late. They would rise after mid day had been and gone, eat and spend the rest of the day amusing themselves playing cards or going back to bed. Sometimes Joey would decide to ride out for reasons he kept to himself leaving Ella alone, she found she got along well enough with the three women in the house, she could at least hold meaningless conversations that passed the hours until Joey returned.

Ella often found herself falling back into the trap of lamenting the choices she had made coming here. Joey's cool manner towards her did not change, his cold emotions only becoming warm in their love making and the afterglow that followed when he would hold her close, pressing her body to his as if he feared letting her go would mean letting the moment escape. But the moment could never stay and he always reverted back to his callous ways, leaving Ella feeling confused and unsure. She knew she must love him, she knew she would not leave him and yet she despised herself for it, for letting him treat her so indifferently…

The truth was that Ella felt he was becoming distant from her the more time they spent together, he was slowly but forcefully pushing her away and nothing she could say or do would make him listen or react. He looked at her with blank blue eyes, his expression uncaring, his silence piercing… and now Ella found she had more than just his coldness to worry over; her menstruation had not come this month. She tried not to fret, it had happened before on many occasions where she had been late by a few days and it had always appeared making her stress pointless, but she could not prevent the small thoughts creeping unpleasantly into her mind… it was not well met news in any respect. She knew she had not been as careful with Joey as she should have been, letting him do as he wished when they bedded together, the passion making her forget to control the situation. But she had to admit she never wanted to stop him, she wanted every moment until he again reverted back into his cold ways. She scolded herself harshly, she should have known better and her carelessness would surely cost her dearly…

Joey was preening a little in front of the mirror.

"Are you goin' out?" she asked, leaning against the doorway. Joey had been venturing out more frequently, to the saloon or just riding alone. Ella knew he liked his solitude but the fact he was now going to the saloon every few nights and not taking her along pinched painfully at her pride.

Joey glanced at her with disinterested eyes, "Yes" he said simply.

"You goin' to the saloon?"

Joey cast an annoyed look at her through the mirror, the slight tightness in his jaw telling her he had had enough of her questions.

"You can wash my clothes, these girls still do not do it right." He paused as if enjoying her displeasure at his words. "Maybe you will do it better."

Ella's brow rose in irritation, Joey's words had become harsher over the last few days as if he wished to hurt her, to provoke her. "I ain't gonna do your laundry" she whispered, anger edging her words.

Joey glanced at her, tiredness within the depths of his gaze, as if she bored him. "You will do as I say."

"Don't treat me like them" Ella hissed, meaning the other women that lived there. "An' don't talk to me like I'm your goddamn servant!"

Joey smirked at her as if her little outburst amused him. He did not say anything else but headed for the door leaving Ella to fume in her own temper.

---

Ella awoke to complete darkness. She slowly let her eyes adjust to the lack of light and then rubbed them sleepily. She guessed she had fallen asleep soon after Joey had left, it was better than being awake fretting and thinking she supposed. She pushed herself into a sitting position and glanced out at the town through the large gaps in the wall, all was quiet. She could just about see a light burning dimly in the saloon and wondered if Joey was still there drinking. Although he would never admit it out loud, Ella thought he had grown quite attached to John Wesley Hardin; perhaps they shared some connection in that they both had become known as great killers.

She sat on the edge of the bed and ran her hands absently through her tangled hair. She finally got to her feet and searched through the darkness for a candle and quickly lit it, bringing a dim light into the room. She glanced up, her eyes catching her reflection in the mirror. She stared at herself a moment, fighting silently with the two conflicting emotions that continually battled within her… to stay by him or leave… she never seemed to gain any kind of answer.

She placed the candle down upon the table opposite the mirror and picked up a mug, sipping at the now stone cold coffee inside, she grimaced but the liquid was comforting. Her ears pricked slightly at the sound of laughter, she yawned and walked towards the door, it sounded like one of the girls, perhaps she could gain some company from them and relieve the loneliness.

She pulled back the curtain and took a step out. The room beyond was lit with a few candles; she quickly noticed that Beulah and Marietta were lying upon the bed, half dozing, but it was not this sight that stopped Ella in her tracks. Joey was indeed back from the saloon. He was seated upon a chair and sat upon his lap was Gabriela, one hand curled around his neck, her cheek pressed against his whispering amorous words, and the other hand was out of view beneath the waist band of his trousers. Joey's eyes were closed, his mouth open limply in enjoyment. It took Ella a moment to move, to do anything as the shock hit her bluntly, the icy feeling clutching around her heart and squeezing, making her lose her breath. It was not a sight she had ever thought she'd see. Men had betrayed her before, countless times… but never Joey… Joey had never shown any interest in any other female, only showed interest in Ella when he wanted something and he only ever seemed to want anything from her, no other girl was ever in his mind, or so she had always thought…

"What the hell!" She finally let the words burst from her, the sound startling her own ears and making all those in the room jump at the outburst - all that was apart from Joey, whose eyes slowly opened, their bleak depths focusing upon her. Gabriela jumped up and looked at Ella with pleading cow eyes, her expression stating she was just doing what she had been told. But before she could move away Joey had pulled her down onto his lap once again.

"I did not tell you to get up" he said, the edge of too much drink hinting within his tone, his words were slurred and lazy.

"What is this?!" Ella asked, her eyes upon Joey, searching his face and trying to gain any understanding but she found nothing but contempt staring back at her.

Ella tried hard to fight back not only the tears that were threatening but the anger that boiled within her veins, urging her to recklessly grab anything and strike him and the girl, to lunge for his gun and fire two shots that would end it all, all the suffering, she'd be free to leave… She closed her eyes slowly and re-opened them, forcing back the harsh feelings.

"What is this Joey?" she asked, her voice more even and calm, the tone surprising even herself given the current situation.

"What is what?" he asked lazily. He grabbed Gabriela's wrist, the girl flinched. "You mean this." He indicated with his other hand to her.

Ella rolled her eyes up to the ceiling. "You're drunk" she stated.

"Do not tell me what I am" Joey said lowly.

"Let her go" Ella said, suddenly feeling tired and impatient with the situation, she had to deal with far too many drunken men in her time and she had no patience for any man who had partaken of too much liquor.

"She will do as I say" he said coolly, his eyes again met Ella's. "You are angry." The words were almost a smug whisper.

"Yes, I'm angry" she said, her tone not holding any anger at all anymore.

"You do not want me to do this?" He indicated again to Gabriela.

Ella raised her eyes to look at him but remained silent.

Joey gave a casual shrug. "Fine" he said in a blasé voice.

His lips became a thin line and before Ella could move a step he had lashed out, his fist connecting harshly with the girl upon his lap. She let out a startled noise of surprise before she fell from the impact landing harshly upon the dirt floor. Ella stared at him, disbelieving he had just hit the woman now groveling upon the floor.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Ella screeched, her anger once more flaring.

Joey was advancing menacingly upon Gabriela once again and Ella rushed forward putting herself between them.

"I am doing what I always do" Joey said, sneering at her. "Did you think just because I allowed you into my bed I would change!" His eyes flashed dangerously. "That you could change me and I could be good!" His tone was icy, smooth and chilling.

"Don't you touch her!" Ella hissed, ignoring his other words, her main concern was the girl and the fact that she felt sure that in this moment Joey was fully capable of killing the young whore, the thought made her shiver. "She ain't done nothin' wrong."

Joey looked at her, contempt edging his features before he turned and made for the bedroom with a sound of fierce frustration. Ella quickly turned to Gabriela.

"Let me see" she said matter-of-factly, making the young girl lift her face. "You'll have a bruise come tomorrow, but you'll live" she said, and let her scurry over to her two friends in the bed.

Ella turned to look at the door leading to the bedroom, half dreading entering that place now but she couldn't leave things as they were, she could not let pass unheeded what had just happened. She took in a deep breath before turning back to the women.

"Maybe it's best you go have a drink outside, till he calms some." In all honesty Ella herself felt like fleeing the house and Joey, she'd never seen him act in such a way and she was unsure how to handle this situation or even if it could be handled. Her hands felt suddenly clammy with the morbid thought that she may not even come out of the bedroom…

The girls were already upon their feet gathering the things they would need for a few hours. Beulah hesitated at the door.

"Will you be okay?"

"I'll be fine" Ella said, feeling no truth to her words, she did not know what was about to happen. "Joey don't normally hit women, it's the drink."

Beulah nodded, "He's been a hell of a lot better than any of our other landlords, we'll be back soon."

Ella gave a certain nod and watched as they left, she stared at the closed door for a few moments and without letting herself dwell upon her task a second longer she turned and made her way to the bedroom.

Joey was taking off his gun belt; he did not look up as she entered.

"You shouldn't have hit her…" she said in a small whisper, her heart already feeling the small tug of betrayal that he had laid at her feet on his night, that he had allowed another to touch him, she found the feeling even outweighed her fear.

Joey turned, throwing his gun belt down upon the table in an angry clatter. His eyes were thunderous and he advanced a few paces towards her, making Ella retreat backwards as her heart now began to feel the icy chill of fear curling around it.

"It happened because of you! You made it happen!" He said, full, fierce anger blazing in his eyes, the drink making him unable to keep his emotions in check.

"What did I do?!" Ella cried. "You're the one that has been acting cold; you're the one that had a whore's hand down your britches!"

"You made it happen" he repeated in a heated whisper. "Que puta estúpido."

Ella could no longer hold back the temper that clutched at her, the intensity making her feel dizzy. She struck out hard and fast, her palm connecting with a sickening sound against his cheek. He reeled from the blow, his drunken unsteady feet unable to hold him after the shock and he fell onto his knees. Ella took a step backwards, her eyes widening at the realization of what she had just done, waiting with bated breath for him to get to his feet and beat her… or worse.

Her look of fear slowly turned into puzzlement as he remained upon the floor as if frozen, the only movement was his heavy breaths as they softly blew against the hair that had fallen into his face. Ella's brow furrowed in worry, tentatively and with caution she bent down, her eyes searching for his face. Sensing her presence he glanced up, his blue eyes meeting hers and the sight stole her breath. Within his gaze there was no hatred, no anger - but fear, remorse and a strange pleading shone clearly out, the effect was disquieting.

"Joey?" she breathed in a frightened whisper, unsure for a moment if this was indeed the same man that had stood with her a moment ago.

Joey glanced away from her as if he were ashamed. Ella's heart gave a tug and despite herself she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into her warm embrace. Suddenly his body became stiff and he lashed out feebly trying to untangle himself from the comfort she offered.

"Do not forgive me!" he cried through gritted teeth, his voice strangled with hurt and bitter loathing. "Do not!"

But his fight had no conviction and Ella was easily able to contain him and bring him to a calm stop. She hushed him and ran her fingers gently through his hair, pressing her lips against the top of his head and cheeks until he was still enough for her to lead him back to the bed. He stared at her for a moment, his eyes searching her face, the cold look still vacant from his gaze. Ella lay down beside him, pressing herself against his back and wrapping an arm around his waist.

Silence reigned as Ella waited for what would come next… slowly and in a strange low voice Joey began to speak… his words were memories, memories from a harsh and brutal past…

---

The desert wind blew harshly into his eyes. The old mule beneath him was starting to lag from the many hour long journey, one of just numerous days of travelling.

"Where are we going?" Joey asked the man that led the mule, his mother's second husband; it was a question he had asked over and over again, yet an answer never came.

"Shut up!" The man said, giving him a harsh glance that held a warning of a beating if he didn't obey. He was scruffy but with a handsome glint to his features, his temper was foul, as was the rest of his personality.

Joey was only nine years old, and he did not like this man and what was more this man did not seem to like him any better. He was always shouting at him and beating him whenever his mother wasn't looking, and sometimes even when she was. Joey felt that his mother liked this man better than she liked him, her own son. Joey had a younger brother and sister, Rafael was three years old and Teresa had just been born that summer, his mother seemed more interested in them than in him… They were this man's children… he couldn't help feeling jealous that they weren't beaten and were sheltered; he couldn't understand why it was only him. But as Juan Castro told him many times, they were all the same blood, a family. Juan was also quick to remind Joey that he didn't have a father, he was no better than a bastard. Joey's own father had died when he had been a year old. He had gotten drunk one day and thinking that a railroad working was giving his beautiful wife, Maria, a hungry look he had challenged him. The man had beaten Joey's father to death with an iron rod… and now Joey had no father….

Two days ago Juan had put Joey upon the old mule and told him they were taking a journey. Joey had had no say in the matter, his mother and younger siblings were away in the next village seeing to his grandmother who was upon her deathbed. Joey didn't understand why he couldn't go to see his grandmother too, he often told his mother how much he disliked being left alone with this man, but his mother always thought he was lying and saying things were worse than they really were to get attention.

"We're here" the man said in a gruff voice.

Joey looked up, a strange village was before him with high pointed tents scattered here and there. He studied them with childish curiosity as a man; an Indian man came towards them. Joey stared at him with wide eyes, he'd heard tales of Indians from other children in his village but he had never thought he would see one.

"Castro, what are you doing here?" the Indian man asked Juan, his accent was strong.

"Well, I came here to trade, got something I thought you might be interested in Kutli." Juan indicated back towards the occupant of the mule's saddle. "This here boy is rare, a guero - blonde haired, blue eyed Mexican - he'll bring you good luck."

Kutli walked up to Joey and reached up; the young boy flinched away but was not quick enough to avoid the Apache's quick hand. He studied Joey's face, turning it harshly to the side, his eyes narrowing.

Joey stared back at him, taking in the man's features. He was tall, strong, with defined muscles to his torso and upper arms. His hair was jet black and long, reaching the middle of his back and his face was neither young nor old with a tense roughness to it.

"How much do you want?"

"A fair price" Juan replied with a smile.

Kutli let Joey go and returned his gaze to Juan, their eyes met for a moment as if trying to gauge each other.

"Here" Kutli said, and untied a bag from his belt before throwing it towards Juan.

Juan caught it easily and opened it with greedy fingers and eyes. "That'll do just fine" he said with a grin. "You can keep the mule for nothing, it'll be dead soon." He grinned again, his mind upon the money and what he would do with it. "You could eat it I guess."

Joey watched with wide eyes as the men around him talked and exchanged money over him, he was a bright boy and knew exactly what was happening and more to the point he knew it was useless to try and run or fight. Juan did not even spare him a glance as he began to make his way back in the direction they had just come from. Joey felt the mule begin to move once again and turned to see the Apache leading him towards the village, he tried to fight back the fear but it was hard, he was only a child…