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was what it was all about. This was what men wanted. This was sex.
    Leroy roamed happily around the room, doing up his trousers and muttering to himself as he checked out their possessions. “Any money ’round here?” he questioned.
    She thought quickly of the few dollars she had managed to save. It was hidden in a rolled-up stocking and secreted beneath her mattress.
    “No money,” she mumbled, wishing that grandma Ella would come home and discover the unspeakable thing Leroy had done to her.
    “Shee-it!” he exclaimed. “No money, no hootch. Shee-it! Guess there ain’t nuthin’ to do ’round here ’cept frig a jig.” And then unexpectedly he was on her again, straddling her with his skinny legs, jabbing at her with his thing.
    Waves of blackness came over her; she felt herself falling, escaping from the pain….
    “Aw, c’mon, girl—enjoy it,” she heard him whining. “Ain’t no fun for me if you don’ enjoy it.”
    When she came to she heard voices, words that didn’t make any sense. She felt crushed, used, and, worst of all, totally helpless.
    It was grandma Ella talking. Thank God she was back!
    She tried to sit up, but all strength seemed to have deserted her.
    “You done us all one big favor.” She heard grandma Ella cackle. “Now you’ve put her tight little fanny in action, we can make us some
real
money. Y’know, boy, I was gonna wait till she was fourteen, but now—well, Leroy honey, I guess we done got ourselves the best little hooker in the business!”

Gino
    1921-1923
    Brother Philippe hovered on the danger list for three weeks. Gino didn’t know this. He thought he had killed him, and frankly he didn’t much care. The scissors incident had made him a hero.
    The newspapers got hold of the story while Gino was in the Bronx County Jail waiting to go before the court, JUVENILE SCANDAL , the headlines screamed, CHILDREN PROTECT CHILDREN . Brother Philippe’s victims couldn’t wait to start talking, now that he was safely out of the way.
    Costa was pictured in the newspapers, wide-eyed and appealing. His story caught the heart of the nation, and he was promptly adopted by Franklin Zennocotti, a rich lawyer in San Francisco who planned to launch him on a new life as soon as he had given evidence.
    Gino was fortunate. Public opinion was on his side. And when it came time for the judge to decide what to do with him, he was given six months’ probation and released.
    He came face to face with Costa outside the courtroom, and the small boy—who had never exchanged two words with him before—clutched him by the hand and said in a low emotional voice, “Thank you, Gino, thank you for my life. One day I hope I can repay you.”
    Gino was embarrassed. He extracted his hand and laughed in a self-conscious way. “It was nothin’ kid, forget it.”
    He watched Costa walk away with his new father and was suddenly jealous. Why wasn’t
he
being offered a brand new life? He had been in the newspapers too. How come nobody rushed forward to adopt him?
    Oh, yeh. He already had a father, didn’t he. A son-of-a-bitch who was at this very moment in jail. He glanced at the piece of paper with Paolo’s latest address written on it. Although he was in the can, he had married again, and Gino was supposed to go and live with the new wife, a woman he had seen for two minutes in the courtroom. A faded blonde with a pair of big ones.
    As soon as he thought of her breasts he got a hard-on. He had been locked up for nine months exactly, and he felt horny as hell. Jerking off had never really appealed to him, especially in a dormitory with ten other guys doing the same thing. He wanted to get laid. He wanted to get laid immediately.
    He picked up the cheap suitcase with everything he owned inside, decided to drop it off at his new home and take off in search of some prime pussy.
    As he walked his cock rubbed uncomfortably against his trousers, but he couldn’t help grinning. He was out. He was on the street