“But all these guns and knives and things… they’re for hurting people!”

He nodded. “Sometimes it comes down to that.”

She had visions of him shooting someone, stabbing him, clubbing him to death. If someone else had told her this about the man she loved, she would have laughed and walked away. But the weapons lay in front of her. And Jack was telling her himself!

“Then you’re nothing but a hired thug!”

He reddened. “I work on my own terms—exclusively. And I don’t do anything to anybody that they haven’t already done to someone else. I was going to tell you when I thought—”

“But you hurt people!”

“Sometimes.”

This was becoming a nightmare! “What kind of thing is that to spend your life doing?”

“It’s what I do. More than that, it’s what I am.”

“Do you enjoy it when you hurt people?”

He looked away. And that was answer enough. It was like one of his knives thrust into her heart.

“Are the police after you?”

“No,” he said with a certain amount of pride. “They don’t even know I exist. Neither does the State of New York nor the IRS nor the entire U.S. government.”

Gia rose to her feet and hugged herself. She suddenly felt cold. She didn’t want to ask this question, but she had to. “What about killing? Have you ever killed someone?”

“Gia…” He rose and stepped toward her, but she backed away.

“Answer me, Jack! Have you ever killed someone?”

“It’s happened. But that doesn’t mean I make my living at it.”

She thought she was going to be sick. The man she loved was a murderer! “But you’ve killed!” “Only when there was no other way. Only when I had to.”

“You mean, only when they were going to kill you? Kill or be killed?” Please say yes. Please! He looked away again. “Sort of.” The world seemed to come apart at the seams. With hysteria clutching at her, Gia began running. She ran for the door, ran down the stairs, ran for a cab that took her home, where she huddled in a corner of her apartment listening to the phone ring and ring and ring. She took it off the hook when Vicky came home from school and had barely spoken to Jack since.

“Come away from the window now. I’ll tell you when he arrives.”

“No, Mommy! I want to see him!”

“All right, but when he gets here, I don’t want you running around and making a fuss. Just say hello to him nice and politely, then go out back to the playhouse. Understand?”

“Is that him?” Vicky started bouncing up and down on her toes. “Is that him?”

Gia looked, then laughed and pulled on her daughter’s pigtails. “Not even close.”

Gia walked away from the window, then came back, resigned to standing and watching behind Vicky. Jack appeared to occupy a blind spot in Vicky’s unusually incisive assessment of people. But then, Jack had fooled Gia, too.