“Yo, I ain’t know we gots a gringo in here,” Sazonito said, looking at Cody with a foolish-ass grin on his wide face. His neckless body somehow managed to support a crucifix, which dangled afront his massive chest — he done took off his shirt and pants the moment he came in — musta got used to prison, Cody thought. He sat around in his too-tight prison boxers, his trunkish thighs liketa burst outta ’em. “Thought this place was all Latin Kings.”