And that was all.

Vito moaned in pain as his head hit the back of the front seat and then he cringed into the side of the truck when he saw Billy crawling toward him, murder in his eyes.

"Stop it! Stop it!" Pop yelled over the noise. "We're going to get in an accident. I can't drive this truck, you're making me so Goddamned nervous."

"I'm gonna kill you, you son of a bitch. You'll be sorry you did that, you bastard," Billy shouted at the top of his voice.

"I got more right to her. I ain't had a woman longer than you have," Vito snarled back.

"Well, you ain't gettin' nothing' from this one, that's for Goddamn sure. Nothin'. Not even when we get to the warehouse. Nothin'. Never."

Vito sank back into the corner, staring stonily out of the back of the truck, and a deathly quiet sank over the group that was broken only by the soft piteous sound of Ellen's sobbing. In the front, Cash lit a cigarette and Pop cleared his throat nervously. Billy glared around the truck and then crawled back to the girl, resuming his kneeling position over her.

Ellen's mind reeled with fear and confusion as once again she felt him pull her legs apart, breathing heavily over her. Then his hand sank onto the already finger-ravaged mound of her pussy, and she groaned a long low soul-searching groan.

Billy's nostrils flared with obvious desire as he concentrated again on the lewd task before him. Her hair had dislodged itself from its pony tail in the struggle and now it spilled over her smoothly tanned shoulders, gleaming softly in the moonlight.

"Just relax, honey. You're going to love every minute of this, I promise you," he chuckled obscenely to her, once again laying his hands on her hips, opening his palms and pressing the firm white cheeks apart, hungrily kneading them. "Just relax, baby and enjoy it."