The wop, still in a squat, tried to make her take his cock in her hand. He jerked her wrist from the floor toward his crotch. She went down on her other elbow. Landing on your elbow hurts, too. But she didn’t cry out. He rubbed her loose hand against the ringed shaft up-jutting from the fork of his jumper zipper.

Mom stopped struggling a couple of seconds, mainly to get breath.

But it gave Hogg a chance to look up. “These two must wanna get fucked real bad.” Hogg was breathing hard. “I always figure the more they fight, the more they wanna get fucked—”

“Aw, fuck you—!” Mom said without even looking at him.

Hogg chuckled, looking at me now. “Course that ain’t true. But I always tell ’em that, ’cause it gets ’em upset. And, after all, gettin’ ’em upset is the fundamental nature of the enterprize, here.” He jerked around to give her a sharp, backhanded smack. “Hey, Denny, you and the cocksucker go work on the little bitch. Do her in good.”

“Yeah, sure,” Denny said. I was standing just behind him and I could see his arm still moving. He grinned back at me. “Sure, Hogg!”

“Hey, Dago—get over here, you goddamn guinea. Give us a hand. Help me get this bitch—that’s it … On the floor!” But the woman didn’t go down yet.

The wop let go the girl, who sagged to her other elbow. He stood, sighed, zipped himself up, and went over toward Hogg and the nigger and the woman.

“That’s right, on her knees—” Hogg grunted. This time he kicked her with the back of his heel behind her shin, while the nigger yanked her sideways.

She went down.

As the wop walked toward her, one hand went back in his pocket to play.

Behind her, the nigger grabbed the woman’s brown hair, tight, on both sides of her head; which made her mouth open. I thought she was going to fall over on the floor, but the nigger kept her up on her knees. Her eyes were wide.

The wop came up, his hand in his pocket, working. He took another step. And another.

The nigger, standing behind her, hands still grappling in her hair, pushed her face toward the wop’s crotch. She tried, but couldn’t turn away.

I heard a click.

The woman froze.

The wop began to laugh.

Sticking out the thigh of his jumpsuit, tip glittering half an inch from her eye, was the blade.

She just tore her head away. And lost hair; I heard it. And saw some of it, too, in the nigger’s fist.

Hogg began to laugh. “Hey, come on. You gonna fuck the bitch, you gonna fuck her. You gonna beat up on her, you gonna beat her up. You don’t got to cut her none.” He still thought it was pretty funny.