Leo was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth and was quite tempted to take the woman up on her offer. He looked up into the woman’s hazel eyes with the auburn hair. “Thank you very much, m’lady. I honestly won’t have time to entertain one of your ladies. I have some errands to run. I was just heading to the general store.” Leo looked at the woman who he found quite stunning and could spend some time with her. He imagined her ladies were just as attractive, although in some towns, not so much.

Finishing the last of his whiskey, John gently placed the glass down and looked up at the woman beside them. She was very pretty but dressed in a way that made it obvious that she didn’t use her looks to make her living. At least not in the more blatant way the soiled doves did. She either simply worked the bar or owned the place. John’s gut and the ladies apparent charisma told him it was the latter. She placed the bottle of shine on the table and placed her hands on both Leo and his shoulders. It was pathetic but John instinctively tensed up and had to stop his hands from balling into fists. It occurred to him that the only time he ever really got human contact was when he was in conflict and he had to stop himself from laughing out loud at his own pitiful nature. Pretty much sharing Leo’s sentiment John did his best to meet the woman's eyes but soon found himself nervously tapping his finger on his whiskey glass as he did so.

“Uh, yeah. I have a couple of things to do myself… Maybe later though. I will probably need a room tonight.” He spoke, somewhat quieter than he might usually. 

“Oh, thank you for the moonshine.” He met her eyes again suddenly remembering it was the polite thing to do, especially when showing gratitude. An inane smirk shaped the corner of his mouth as he wished deeply he could have already gulped down a good portion of the moonshine. It might have slowed the fear he felt rising in his chest. He grabbed the bottle off of the table and poured himself a glass, drinking slowly to hide what he thought was his breathing too fast.

Disappointment visibly fell over Rosalyn’s face, her lips dropping into a frown and head tilting towards one shoulder. The reaction might as well be called rehearsed as it was used frequently with visitors unable or unwilling to utilize both aspects of the woman’s business. Her ability to make those she was conversing with feel as though they owned her full attention and complete adoration was practically impeccable. 

[color=f7941d]“Oh, how unfortunate to hear. Just traveling through town, then?”[/color] Inquiring about the business of strangers was not a common practice of hers, but the tightening of one of the man’s shoulders at her touch was palpable and she was desperate to avoid addressing it. She subtly noted the man’s additional anxious movements: his finger’s twitching, chest rising rapidly, avoidance of eye contact. The surface coarseness of his appearance made it very apparent that his occupation certainly was not one that left his palms soft. She pulled her hands away from both of them and planted them on her own hips.
 
[color=f7941d]“I would have to recommend the lodging across the way for overnight stays. They seem to be better equipped for guests, but should they have no rooms available, I’m certain we can get you settled somewhere.”[/color] Roz was careful with her words and avoided offering the man a place to sleep in the business. Her stomach rolled as the thought of a particular man who overstayed his welcome invaded her mind. [color=aba000][i]I suppose he did sleep well[/i][/color] she thought, referencing his resting place only steps from her back porch. 

“Thank you ma’am,” Leo responded to her words. “I must bid adios.” With that he stood up and headed out the front of the saloon. 

He stepped into the street, while heading to the general store when he heard a familiar voice call out his name with a Mexican accent, “Cucaracha!” yelled the voice. In Spanish he continued, “we’ve been waiting for you!”

Leo turned to his right and caught the site of three members of the Del Lobos gang. “Cucaracha, I’m afraid you’ve eaten your last meal and drank your last sip of whiskey.”

“Roberto!? What are you doing here?” Leo yelled to the Del Lobos member. “You want to duel it out here in the street!? One on three? That hardly seems fair at all.”

“Fair, who wants fair?” Roberto Colon laughed at the half breed, Leo Velez, also known as La Cucaracha. The three men brushed their ponchos and coats away from their pistols revealing their sidearms for all to see. Leo swallowed realizing what was coming next. He also slowly pulled his coat tail behind his back.

The four men were no longer smiling. They stared at each other over a distance of roughly fifteen yards. The three Del Lobos members were standing more than five feet from one another. Leo counted his blessings and muttered off a quick [i]Padre Nuestro[/i] in his head. Then made up his mind. He was ready to go.

“Blam! Blam! Blam! Blam!” The shots rang out in rapid succession. Leo was able to get the drop on Roberto Colon, sending him to his grave, but three bullets also found their mark to Leo Velez allowing him to follow Senior Colon to the grave as well. Leo Velez, also known as the Cockroach fell back into the dusty road with a hole in the forehead and a widening pool of blood covering the dirt behind his head and a second hole in his chest causing a second pool of blood to form behind his torso. His marker would read, [i]R.I.P. Here lies Leo Velez, b. 1875 d. 1897 The Cockroach.”


Collaboration: [@Sad Ogo][@Berlin]