“Is this the fable you’ve been telling yourself?” Ian asked scornfully. “I have a reason for befriending the Poindexters, and that’s what we are—friends.”

“Friends with benefits,” I sneered.

“I didn’t intend for it to progress as it did, but Cricket was aggressive and I had to steer her attentions.”

“Right into your crotch,” I shouted, and stood up.

“My association with the Poindexters is more important than you, more important than my personal life.”

“But you can’t explain it. You never explain anything,” I said. “Every time I’m with you, Ian, I feel as if I’m drifting farther and farther from my moorings.” I began pacing, walking along the far wall of windows.

“Milagro, why do you grasp so desperately at those moorings? Personal happiness aside, do you really think it is even possible for you to live like others do?”

Then I asked him the question I’d always been too afraid to ask before. “Have you ever killed anyone, Ian?”

He stood and came to me. He ran his finger across my lips and even then I wanted to open my mouth and take his finger between my teeth, but I jerked my face away.

“The difference between us, darling, is that you haven’t killed yet. But, because of who you are, there will be a time when it’s necessary, when you will have to decide between something that is wrong and something that is far worse. Then you’ll understand.”

“No, because I will never ever kill another human.”

“I wish it weren’t so. I wish you could live a safe and happy life, but I don’t think it’s possible.” He stared at me with his deep brown eyes. “Did you intend for your recent antics to humiliate me publicly?”

Although he didn’t raise his voice, he was angry and for the first time, I was afraid of him. “No, my antics were to please myself, just as your antics with our neighbors were to please yourself.”

He took my wrist in his hand, turning it to show the blue veins and the pale pink scar on my arm. Then he said, “Are you coming with me to Gigi’s?”

“No.”

“Very well.” He kissed my wrist and then walked to the door. “Be assured that whatever your intention, you succeeded in enraging me.” He turned to look at me. “Milagro, when you’re finished with Spiggott and you’ve disposed of him, perhaps you’ll want to come back to me, but don’t expect me to wait for you or take you back again.”

“So that’s it then?” I said. “It’s over? Am I finally free of you?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he said. “I hope you get everything you deserve. Good-bye, Milagro.” Then Ian Ducharme walked out the door and out of my life.