She was beautiful. She was like a sip of cool water on a hot day. I first ran into her on the beach. Romantic, huh? Damn right it was.
Her name was Maria. I flashed my killer smile, we talked for a while, and then she was mine. We made love in the sand, right there and then. I have never loved a woman as I have loved her.
There was only one problem; she belonged to another man. Not just any man, but the biggest bad-ass within a hundred miles. Hell … within a thousand miles. The asshole’s name was Jake.
Maria and I snuck around for a few weeks, but then I couldn’t take it no more. Was I a man or was I not? Fuck Jake! I told Maria that I was gonna confront him and tell him that now she was my woman.
She cried and begged me not to do it. She feared for my life. I asked her if she loved me. She said that she did. That settled it.
Jake owned a strip club down on 5th Street. I knew I could find him there on the weekends. So, it was on a hot Saturday night that I dressed in my best and took a cab to his club.
It was no problem gaining entrance to the inner sanctum once I told the bodyguard that it concerned Maria.
Jake was affable as I walked into his office. But that didn’t last once I told him why I was there.
“What makes you think you can take my woman from me?” he demanded.
“Because she loves me and not you,” I answered.
Those were the last words to pass my lips.
How was I to know he kept an old-fashioned Colt .45—the kind cowboys used to wear—in his desk? He cocked back the hammer and put a bullet into my chest.
Now I lie on a dirty floor as my life-blood pools beneath me. As I grow cold, as my vision tunnels, as I’m dying, I yearn for only one thing: A drink of cool water. And damn right, it’s a metaphor … I wanna see my Maria before I die … my drink of cool water on a hot day.