Lucinda looked at Octa and then at Juan, “Hello Juan, it’s nice to see you after so long.”
“I need to take care of this real quick,” said Octa as he broke away Juan.
Octa hurried toward the car, and called out to Juan to make himself comfortable inside till he comes back. Lucinda escorted him through the door as she told him how their dog had been killed last night by someone in the neighborhood who had threatened the dog for trespassing and attacking him at several occasions, which Lucinda could never believe. Maisey was a docile and caring animal, and she wouldn’t hurt a fly.
Juan listened carefully as he noticed the attractive young woman in front of her and responded with ‘tsk tsk’ every now and then as Lucinda told him how their little dead dog had died. ‘I hate dogs’ he thought to himself, ‘I would kill every last one of those motherfuckers’ thinking about the incident that happened to him in his childhood.
He was shaken out of his thoughts when Lucinda asked whether he would like something to drink. As she went in to the kitchen to fix him up a scotch, on the rocks, as Juan had requested, he scanned the living room. Every inch and every corner was a lot better than the kind of places Juan has spent his last 6 years in. He got up and looked at the comfortable furniture and the heavy carpeting. He had decided that when he leaves this place, he will be taking some of the goodies with him, with his brother’s consent or without it. ‘Octa would understand, and he always understands’ he thought to himself while smiling.
Lucinda came into the room to see an 8 mm caliber pistol lying flat on the sofa where Juan had been sitting. She stood there shocked and frightened as she faced the living room and saw Juan come hurrying toward her, with a menacingly devious smile on his face.