Several months later

Pepelito was having a nice happy day. Rita and Dominguez were sitting on the bench Silvio used to sit on. The gate was open, and they were feeding him treats from a paper bag of vegetables they'd picked up on the village market, stuffed between them on the bench.

'I thought you'd blame me,' Rita said, as the bull took a huge courgette in his mouth from the paper bag and chewed messily. Dominguez patted him. I've taken a bit much here, Pepelito thought, trying to eat the enormous courgette and dropping it on the ground.

'Yeah. I was angry, Rita, I admit that, I did blame you a bit.' Dominguez sighed, while Pepelito swallowed most of the courgette.

'But, look. I went into this job knowing people like Castella could target those close to me. Everyone knows that. That's part of being a police officer. But I carried on. And sometimes the right thing isn't the most sensible or safest option. Is it, amigo?' Dominguez seemed relaxed enough, leaning forward to kiss his nose. If his friends were happy, so was he.

He had worried Maribel would be upset with him for leaving her alone so long, and that she wouldn't get on with Chicero. But the old girl had been accepting and kind. They still played together, but she spent a lot more time lying down than she used to on her prosthetic leg. It made him sad.

'You agree, don't you, dulcito,' Rita said, as Pepelito pulled a carrot away from the bag of vegetables, enjoying love and affection from his favourite humans. Recently, he hadn't seen them as much as normal, and he missed them. When they spent lots of time with him, they were less tense and stressed.

The feeling was mutual.

'No! I'm not a cow,' Dominguez yelled, holding his arms in front of him as Pepelito stretched out his long, black tongue. Humans never wanted to be licked. He couldn't work out why.

'What are your family going to do about the farm?'

'You interested, Rita? You're a bit late. We've got a buyer, we're selling the farm to an animal rescue charity. In the meantime, got my brother and the neighbour keeping an eye on this lot, always someone here,' Dominguez said. Pepelito turned his head towards the small, but deep lake down the bottom of the hill where Chicero was swimming, his favourite thing to do. Pepelito loved seeing his friend so happy.

Scratching Pepelito under the chin, Dominguez laughed, 'The attention my family is getting from all sorts of farmers wanting to introduce such 'well-bred bulls' to their cows. It's got well out of hand. The fucking stories I could tell you.'

'Look at Chicero, he's like a water buffalo in there,' Rita smiled.

'Yeah, that one loves it, he's always in there. We made them an obstacle course too, me and my brother, out of some old pallets and tyres. He can't get enough of that either.' Dominguez laughed. Chicero had lost so much fear, but he was still nervous of humans.

Maybe he always would be.

And that was OK.

Nobody kicked or beat the bulls here for not meeting their 'standards', and nobody ever would. They'd never be punished for the lack of bravery they showed before the twisted, baying audience, fighting for their lives in an unwinnable contest. Here, they saw nothing but kindness and love.

They were safe.

'How are you feeling about being back at work, Rita?' Dominguez asked.

'Oh, all right, you know. Alfonso's been really supportive,' she replied, feeding Pepelito a carrot. He was thinking about getting in the water himself. Chicero had told him it helped with the pain in his back. To his surprise, it had worked, although that now rarely bothered him. Pepelito had made some interesting discoveries of his own lately, like a bush of nice tasting berries the other two hadn't found.

And the weakness in the fence separating them from the neighbour's cows. They had so much space it seemed empty sometimes; Silvio once had a whole herd, and there were girls Pepelito wanted to introduce himself to. He and Chicero had set themselves the task of knocking it down altogether. They'd made progress, especially after recruiting some of the ladies to their cause.

He'd get there. He'd done something far more gruelling.

'You know, I had an email from Robyn Casey, that journalist who got kidnapped,' Rita said.

'Yeah?'

'Yeah, they're making...like, a 12-part podcast about the case, say it's helping them heal. They asked me on for an interview. I told them not right now,' Rita said, holding out another carrot.

'Here. Give us their address. Maybe I'll write to them, dunno. That profiler's report got to me, it was really something else,' Dominguez said quietly.

'Yeah. Money and power got him impunity.'

'That piece of shit killed 22 people. 22! If that expensive school he was at had paid any attention to what that psychiatrist told them, instead of covering it up and pocketing the parents' money, I reckon some of them would still be alive,' Dominguez sighed.

'Yeah, those relatives of his, wanting to 'channel his violent impulses' into killing animals, thinking that would, I don't know, dampen his cravings.' Rita rubbed under Pepelito's chin. The distress in her voice told him what they were talking about. Sometimes, the thoughts wouldn't stop; the trucks, the pens, the spectators crying out for blood and pain. Don't be sad, he told Rita, the first human he'd ever trusted.

It didn't matter that she didn't understand. She was here.

'That's the world these super rich types live in, though. Think all that wealth puts them above it all. Eh, Pepelito? You agree.' Dominguez offered the bull a pepper.

He growled, 'If that was a working-class kid, I doubt anyone would have bent over backwards to spare him the consequences of gouging out that kid's eye, let alone anything else.'

'Yeah, and if someone had taken Tegan's accusations seriously, instead of branding her an attention seeker and a slut.' Rita spoke through gritted teeth.

'Yep, then her ex-husband would be alive, and she wouldn't have spent 8 years in jail. That really got to me.' Dominguez sighed. Both he and Rita had visited on their own and told Pepelito these things; he didn't understand the words, but he sensed the sadness behind them. 

'It wasn't just him. He always had people who would cover for him or downright assist in his murders, and saw his victims as lesser, like he did.' Rita spoke bitterly. Pepelito came close enough for her to put her arms round him without catching herself on his horns.

'Yeah, just 'peasants' as his noncey sidekick put it. They were people whose lives didn't matter, didn't usually matter to us either. Look at Sonia Gutiérrez, her mother will rinse the Policia Nacional in her court case, and she's right to,' Dominguez remarked, patting him. A butterfly flitted past. Ladron told him he liked chasing butterflies. He would have liked it here.

Rita nodded. 'And animals mattered even less. That hijo de puta thought they were put there by God to be tortured by humans, and if you look around, plenty of people agree with him.'

Dominguez took a deep breath. 'You won't like this, Rita. Yesterday I had a call from a girl. Turned out, it was the daughter of the fighting bull rancher who bred him.'

Rita was unimpressed. 'After a stud service? Hope you told them where to go.'

Dominguez laughed and shook his head. 'She was very apologetic. Told me the day he escaped from Castella, her dad sent this one's mum to the slaughterhouse. Usually, that only happens when the bull kills the matador. But our Pepelito was so disgraceful...'

'Just makes me want to hug him even more, doesn't it, dulcito,' Rita said, stroking his nose gently as he blinked away flies. Seeing her sad made him sad. They'd all lost so much. His friends understood everything. It still hurt to imagine life without them.

'Exactly. After this one took out Europe's worst serial killer in decades, he now regrets it, apparently, like all the other farmers think, he was 'well bred' after all. The daughter's disgusted, she's stopped speaking to him. Can't say I blame her.' As Dominguez spoke, Pepelito sniffed at the remaining vegetables. Maybe later.

'It doesn't surprise me, this behaviour. They're making out they have nothing to do with Henry, or Castella, now he's dead and everyone knows he was a drug dealer. Or, saying this proves the spirit of the fighting bull. They're so brave, so different to other breeds,' Rita laughed without humour, scratching the bull behind the ears. Sometimes he found it hard to believe he was safe. Was it the same for her?

'That's why only a brave matador can honour him with the finale he deserves. I know just the coked up egomaniac, too bad he's dead,' Dominguez said. Rita flinched, a protective hand on Pepelito's neck.

'Jesus! Don't even joke about this.'

'Sorry. I don't like thinking of it either. See the nonsense that prick from the Association of Picadors was spouting off? Castella wasn't a real matador apparently, just an impostor. Henry – just some psycho with nothing to do with anything. We condemn crime, blah, blah...then you see this guy's own trial for selling drugs and beating up his wife starts next week,' Dominguez scoffed. Rita gave a contemptuous snort. Pepelito guessed this was something he didn't need to worry about.

Chicero had traipsed up to the fence. He was eating a tuft of long grass and staring curiously at a tiny bird scratching on the ground. He didn't walk through the gate towards the humans. But Pepelito knew his friend wasn't scared. Slowly, things were getting easier for them all.

'Hola,' Rita smiled.

'Wow, that's the closest that one's ever got to me,' Dominguez said.

'Talking of Sonia, Lucia Gutiérrez called me again yesterday, that girl's serious about joining the police, wants to try and arrange a work experience placement next year. Thinks her grandmother might be a bit more amenable,' Rita said.

'How old is that kid?'

'Just turned 15,' Rita said.

'Not starting next week, then. Good for Lucia, although no idea why she'd want to join.' Dominguez leant back on the bench, took a cigarette out of his packet and offered one to Rita.

'Go on then. Do you need a lift back to Valladolid?' Disliking the smell, Pepelito turned away and trotted out through the gate to join Chicero. Maribel was approaching from the grassy bank by the lake. For a moment the only sounds Pepelito heard were bees buzzing and grass being torn out of the ground as he ate with the two friends he loved so much.

'Thanks, Rita, but my new boyfriend is coming over in a sec, remember.'

'Oh, yeah! Tell me about this guy, Jesus. I thought you said you'd only date cops,' Pepelito heard Rita saying.

'I did yeah, but me and Roberto just...happened.'

And then, the sound of a truck approaching. Both bulls looked up, and then put their heads down, relaxed. Chicero sniffed at a daisy, and then ate it.

'Don't laugh at me, Rita.'

'Why would I do that?'

'He owns the cows down the bottom,' Dominguez chuckled. The noise of tyres against gravel grew louder. He took the buzzer out of the pocket of his now crisply ironed shirt and let Roberto in through the farm's new steel entrance gate. Pepelito sniffed deeply, inhaling the scent that drove him crazy every time he sensed it. Thinking of that scent had comforted him when he was broken.

'I don't want to cramp your style, so I'll go shortly,' Rita said.

'Oh, come on, woman, stay for half an hour,' Dominguez laughed. The truck stopped on the gravel. Roberto got out, a tall, slim man with sunglasses and jeans. In the long grass, Pepelito and Chicero looked at each other and sniffed the air, enthralled. Chicero gave a loud, excitable cry as Roberto kissed Dominguez on the lips. From inside the truck, someone responded.

'Roberto, meet Rita, she's my best friend.' Pepelito heard Dominguez making the introduction. But Pepelito wasn't interested in humans' greetings as he looked past the fence where the butterfly rested.

'I've heard so much about you. All of it good, don't worry.' The dapperly dressed farmer shook Rita's hand effusively and laughed. For a second, Pepelito wondered what he should do; he wandered close to the fence, bellowing, then, suddenly self conscious, he took a step back, as Roberto walked round to the back of the truck.

'Before we sit down for a drink, there's someone I want these guys to meet,' Roberto said, gesturing into the field. He liked to talk a lot, but Dominguez was always happy when Pepelito saw them together. And when Roberto came to check on the bulls, he always brought a nice treat.

Today, he'd brought the nicest treat of all.

'...so, I've been having a bit of a crisis, honestly. I'm not cut out for farming, and I don't want to stay in this village. It was my dad's farm, he died two years ago. I never expected to still be here. By training, I'm a hairdresser. I want to open my own salon.'

'So what does this mean?' Rita said, strolling over to the gate.

'I couldn't bear to send these five to the abattoir – any of the girls, but especially not these five,' Roberto said, as the truck door came down and a ramp slid onto the ground, just beyond the grass.

'I want these ladies, especially, to go to the people buying Silvio's farm. I mean, this one – look. I see her staring at Pepelito every day,' Roberto said in a loud, charismatic voice, as the brown and white splodged cow and four of her equally gorgeous friends trotted down the ramp into his field. 

She made her way straight towards Pepelito, licking his face and neck, mooing happily. A little smaller than him, her horns were thinner and curved upwards. He didn't look at Chicero, or the humans, or the cows trotting to greet Maribel – his focus was only on her.

'He stopped a serial killer. He's a hero. Doesn't he deserve to get the girl?' Roberto laughed, holding hands with Dominguez, who looked faintly horrified.

'Oh, that's a pretty one - she clearly likes him. What's her name?' Rita said, shutting the gate.

'Tulipan,' Roberto said. She turned around and mooed. 'She was so tiny when she was born, I had to bottle feed her. She's beautiful, right?'

'Pepelito clearly thinks so.' Rita and the others laughed.

Chicero stood beside a black cow with no horns. They tenderly brushed noses together, bees landing on the flowers around them.

Happy and free.

Pepelito shut his eyes, enjoying Tulipan's gentle licks. They had all the time in the world to get to know each other. This was all he wanted to do; enjoy fresh grass and clean water, play with his friends, meet nice cows and have a relaxing sleep. He didn't have to be brave. He didn't have to be especially friendly. He didn't have to be anything special at all.

He could just be a bull.

That was all he'd ever wanted anyway.

THE END

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