Billy's eyes blazed and there seemed to be a madness in them. "Revenge."

"Revenge? For what?"

"Revenge for my brother, who your nigger lover murdered out there in the fields."

DesirЋe gasped. She was shocked that they knew about her and Clete, doubly shocked that he had killed someone. Out in the fields. That young man in the pasture, torn apart. But that had been the dogs, hadn't it? How…

"He killed my brother, tore him to shreds, because of you."

"Me? Why…"

"So now it's payback time."

Mr. Jones, or was it Smith, thrust the gun at her and she quailed. She hated guns, feared them worse than almost anything. DesirЋe stumbled back.

"Now get your fat ass upstairs."

She hesitated the briefest moment, then turned and hurried up the curving staircase, running away into what she thought must be a dead end. She stopped at the landing, turned and saw the two men right behind her, stopped, looking this way and that.

"There, in that bedroom."

DesirЋe gasped. "Bedroom?"

"Bedroom," averred Billy.

"Please," she whispered, her throat dry. "Not that."

"Yes," answered Billy sadistically. "That. You're going to be a movie star." He looked at Sam, but the latter wore an uncertain expression, and he hesitated as DesirЋe walked slowly through the door, her shoulders drooping as Billy followed her.

Sam was not happy with this. His suggestion to kill DesirЋe had been made under the influence of drugs and now sober and alert, he was not sure killing her would be a good idea. It was certainly not fair. The girl was innocent and would never hurt anyone, yet she was to be made to pay for Johnny's murder. Still, his first loyalty was to Billy, since high school his partner and lifelong friend.

Sam saw the girl pause in the doorway, taking in the sight of the large bedroom, more like a suite, with the fireplace and the large area covered by an Indian silk rug. And the tripods and video cameras set all around.