"I said we gotta get on with it," Billy repeated viciously, reaching down and grabbing Ellen by the arm. "I don't think you heard me right."

Ellen instinctively pulled away, feeling the hand increase its grip around the slightness of her wrist. Then Billy wrenched her up from the chair, sending her head spinning in another surge of anguished fear and humiliation as he swung his arm in a wide arc and brought the palm of his hand down hard against her face.

Ellen stood and covered her tear-stained face with her hands.

"Look, we ain't just playin' at any of this," Billy said, standing back for a moment. "What we want is real sweet and simple. You start cleanin' up this old furniture and these mattresses and fixin' up the joint so that it looks nice and respectful for the gentleman comin' shortly. Now tell the boys you understand, like a good girl."

"Yes, I-I understand," she finally said quietly. She understood too well, she thought to herself, glancing fearfully across the room at Billy who stood under the overhanging light shining harshly over his fierce-looking face. Ellen was beginning to comprehend the laws that guided the band of desperate criminals. Their years of imprisonment had turned them into near-animals who worshipped the strength of the leader of the pack more than anything else. At the same time, like the snarling dogs they were, they challenged that strength and, as in Vito's case, would try to destroy the leader's prestige at any possible moment. She had become a pawn in their game, and the man who finally ended up possessing her would simply take over that position of power. Now it was Billy who ruled over her ultimate fate, but she knew that the outcome of the struggle that was developing would depend on how he dealt with their challenge to his authority.