“You better let me go, if you know what’s good for you.”
“Put your arm down and I will,” Eugenio replied coolly. Menchaca did, and Eugenio let him go.
“Both of you better watch your backs. I don’t care who you are.” Menchaca walked back to his table and gathered his hat and other belongings, then banged his way out of the restaurant. A few seconds later his henchmen followed. One of them, a big bulky man, approached them but backed off when Eugenio took a step forward.
“This isn’t the time, Cortez.”
Cortez looked straight at Carlos. “Your father must be rolling in his grave right now to see his faggot son back at his ranch.” Eugenio took another step and Cortez left.
The waitress approached Carlos and Eugenio, plates in hand.
“You two okay?”
“Yeah,” Eugenio responded. “Can we have our food to go? I think we need to get out of here fast in case they come back. Don’t you think?” He asked, looking at Carlos.