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“They don’t. It sounds dreadful put like that, but it’s the truth. They don’t want to know anyone anymore, not after Katie’s boyfriend—” She broke off, bit down hard into her lip, astonished that she would once again say so much.
He shot her a swift glance. “What did Katie’s boyfriend do?”
Jillian closed her eyes, hating herself.
“Jill?” he demanded.
She looked at him, expression stricken. “Marco hurt her.”
“He was the one that killed her?”
“Yes.” She ducked her head, studied her laced fingers, remembered how when she and Katie were young they’d hold hands when they crossed the street. Held hands when Katie got scared. Tears burned her eyes, but they were nothing compared to the emotion tearing up her heart. “So now my parents don’t go anywhere or meet anyone. They just live in their little house in Fort Lauderdale and soak up the sun and maybe play a round of golf.”
For a moment Vittorio said nothing and then he spoke quietly, flatly. “I am not Marco. I would never hurt you, or your family—”
“That may be, but we will not call them. I will not call them.”
“Then I will.” He glanced at her. “I have their number, Jill. Home and cellular.”
She turned her face away from him, jaw set. He didn’t know. He didn’t understand. “Don’t do it, Vitt. It’s not a good idea. You have to trust me on this one.”
“Like you trust me?” he retorted.
She stiffened, her spine rigid.
“Your parents are important,” he added. “They’re not just your parents, but they’re Joseph’s grandparents and they should be part of his life.”
“But I don’t want them in Joe’s life! He’s not safe with them in his life. Leave them in Florida. It’s where they belong.”
“How can you be so bitter?”
“Because you don’t know what my father put us through!”
“What did he put you through?”
“Hell.” Then she smiled bitterly to hide the hot lance of pain. It had been hell, too. Her childhood had been so happy that she hadn’t even been prepared for the terrible things that happened when she turned twelve. Couldn’t have imagined that she’d be ripped from that idyllic, sheltered childhood and thrust into a world of constant fear. To know that your father was a hated and hunted man…to live believing your family was in constant danger…to go to bed every night thinking it might be your last…
“Your teeth are chattering,” Vitt said.
They were, too, but that’s because she was freezing. “I’m cold.”
“It’s eighty-four degrees out.”
“So?”
“You’re not cold. You’re afraid.”
“Why would I be afraid?”
Vitt abruptly pulled over to the side of the road and shifted into Park. Unbuckling his seat belt he turned all the way in his seat, his body angled forward to face her. “You’re afraid because if I call your parents, it will reveal all your secrets and all your lies—”
“I have no secrets!”
His jaw flexed. His nostrils flared. He looked as if he was barely keeping his temper in check. “You have one hour to make that call, or I will.”
Vittorio shifted into Drive and steered the Lancia Aurelia back onto the highway.
Jillian sat with her hands clenched in her lap. For a moment she felt nothing. Not even panic. And then slowly her head filled with noise, a buzzing sound that became a roar.
