“You don’t got a gun?” Yeah, Eddie got a gun, up in the attic of his house. He never needed a freakin’ gun. “I don’t carry one.” “Well maybe you fucking should,” Chacho says. He looks around to the six or seven Los Chachos hanging around the room for agreement, then pulls his Glock. “See? I carry a gun.” All the Los Chachos show their guns. Of course they carry guns, Eddie thinks. Shit, four of them are Nuevo Laredo cops. Chacho says, “You pay me.” “For protection,” Eddie answers. “You call what just happened to me ‘protection’? Because I don’t, Chacho.” “I’ll take care of it,” Chacho says.
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