dough!" She took a handful of bills from her jacket pocket and flung them in Bob's face.

"What gives with you, you damn dyke?" he said furiously.

Mac ignored him and strode over and sat beside me. My Jan had always been immaculate and smelled as clean as rain. But the odor of perspiration coming from the armpits of Mac's leather jacket was unpleasant. Yet, not wanting to hurt her feelings, I didn't

move away.

Mac put her broad, coarse-skinned hand gently on my knee. "Honey," she said, the gruffness gone from her deep voice. "I'm a take-it-where-l-can-get-it, type. A rolling stone that figures a lay's a lay. I enjoy it and no strings. Sure, I agreed to have a bed romp with a doll who needed it."

I pressed my trembling hands against my reddening cheeks, and tried to concentrate on what the girl was telling me.

She jabbed a stubby thumb toward Bob. "This joker barged up to me when I was having a beer in a bar. He made his proposition. I took him up on it. And he paid me cash in advance." Her dark eyes cruised from my head to my toes. "Though after getting a gander at you, I'd have made the run, just for the fun of it." Her eyes stared boldly into mine. "Sure I'm ready and willing to lay you. But I'm not raw enough to pull a rape.

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"You're kind." I choked back a sob and relief rushed through me. "Thank you."

"Okay, Butchie," Bob snarled. "If you're not man enough to do the job-I am. I've had practice at rape. Ask Melba. She can tell you." His laughter was harsh and obscene.

I shuddered.

As Bob came toward me, I saw mingled hatred and lust firing his eyes.

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"Please," I moved closer to Mac. "Please help me get him out of here."

Bob snorted contemptuously. "That's easier said than done."

He was reaching toward me.

Mac blocked his efforts to grab my shoulders. "Hold it, guy," she said brusquely.

For a moment he folded his arms across his chest and smirked. Then he retorted, "Here's a twist to the deal, Butchie. I'll fix this gal up-and you can kibitz."

Mac looked at Bob steadily.

"I'm crude as a stinking puddle of oil," she said gruffly. "But I'm not cruel."'

"Oh, okay." Bob took off his coat and flung it across the back of a chair. "Then don't look. Because this boy's going to perform, with an audience or with-

out one.

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Bob started toward the divan again. But before he could get close enough to touch me, Mac turned and patted my shoulder.

"Sure, we'll get rid of this no good, sadistic sonof-a-bitch."

She flashed to her feet, and before I even guessed her intention, her right arm shot out and her doubled fist connected with Bob's chin. The sound of the blow was like a shot in the room. Bob stiffened, spun around and crashed to the floor.

I jumped up and ran to where he lay. He made no sound or movement.

"Don't worry, he's just knocked out," Mac said, rubbing her fist against her trouser leg, as if to wipe off some contamination picked up from touching Bob. "Where does this pile of junk live?”

My breath coming quickly I gave her Bob's address. "I'll drive him home in his own car,' " she said coolly. "And I'll deliver him to who ever comes to the

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