have heard about him? From the police, maybe?”
Annie shook her head. “I know the people he used to work for, that’s all.”
And I approved his firing.…
“He’s not a bad man,” Paolina said. “He’s just a little wild, and he’s made some mistakes.”
“They’re after him for a drug rap, aren’t they? Does he use cocaine or other drugs?”
Paolina shook her head fiercely. “He thinks they’re foolish. They rot the brain, he says. He would never use drugs.”
But apparently he had no qualms about selling them to people who did use them. According to Barbara Rae, who had had several
run-ins with him, Vico had been a troublemaker for years. He’d run with gangs since childhood.
And now he was on the run from the law. If Paolina was sheltering him, she could become an accessory after the fact. “Paolina,
do you know where Vico is?”
She shook her head vigorously.
Annie sensed that she was lying. But when the girl broke down in sobs, Annie did the only thing that seemed appropriate—she
pulled Paolina close and hugged her.
“Come, we’ll talk to Barbara Rae. She’ll know just what to do. Barbara Rae is very persuasive—she might be able to persuade
your father to relent.”
Although Annie spoke with confidence, she was filled with trepidation. She knew Barbara Rae to be an excellent mediator, and
it was remarkable how often people changed their minds after she exercised her gentle art of moral persuasion. Butshe was not always successful. There was something strong, yet tragic, about Paolina, and Annie felt afraid for her.
They were getting up to go find Barbara Rae when, behind them, Annie heard a door slam.
“Where is she?” boomed a male voice, and Paolina’s eyes went wild. She jumped to her feet, whispering,
“Madre de Dios,”
under her breath, then, “Vico!”
A dark-haired young man came striding into the room, and for an instant all Annie could think was:
Here he is, the young Hades, dark and wild, determined to snatch away the pale Persephone and bear her away to his private
Underworld.
He was as startlingly beautiful as Paolina. But he was dark, with shiny black hair falling too long over his neck and ears,
in defiance of the latest teenage style. His face was classically Roman—a long arrogant oval with an aquiline nose and a determined
chin. His eyes were black, with pinpricks of fire in their depths. He was of medium height, stocky and muscular, and he looked
the way the still-handsome Giuseppe must have looked twenty years earlier.
Annie had seen him working on the construction site with his uncle, had overheard several of their flash-fire arguments. She
had seen him stalk off, defiant, not caring what anybody thought of him.
He was seventeen years old.
Smarter than anybody.
Braver.
He knew what he wanted.
He wasn’t going to let anything stand in his way.
Certainly not his pale, submissive girlfriend or the woman who had, along with Jack Fletcher, discharged him from theconstruction job that might have given him his one chance to make something of his life.
He walked straight up to Annie, the expression on his face coldly furious. Then he reached out for Paolina’s hand, which seemed
to be drawn to him, like iron to a powerful magnet.
“They said she was talking to a youth counselor,” he spat. “Is that what you call yourself here?”
“I work as a volunteer, yes,” Annie said.
“I’ll bet you didn’t tell her that you’re the bitch who fired me from my job.”
Paolina’s eyes flew to Annie’s face. Annie hardened herself. She knew his type, all too well. She knew intimately the extent
of the betrayal he felt.
“And did you tell Paolina why you were fired?” she countered. “Or did you lie to her about selling drugs to children?”
Something flashed in those dark, mesmerizing eyes. “I do not lie, and I wasn’t selling drugs,” he said, and jerked Paolina’s
hand. “Come. We are leaving.”
“She needs
Annie shook her head. “I know the people he used to work for, that’s all.”
And I approved his firing.…
“He’s not a bad man,” Paolina said. “He’s just a little wild, and he’s made some mistakes.”
“They’re after him for a drug rap, aren’t they? Does he use cocaine or other drugs?”
Paolina shook her head fiercely. “He thinks they’re foolish. They rot the brain, he says. He would never use drugs.”
But apparently he had no qualms about selling them to people who did use them. According to Barbara Rae, who had had several
run-ins with him, Vico had been a troublemaker for years. He’d run with gangs since childhood.
And now he was on the run from the law. If Paolina was sheltering him, she could become an accessory after the fact. “Paolina,
do you know where Vico is?”
She shook her head vigorously.
Annie sensed that she was lying. But when the girl broke down in sobs, Annie did the only thing that seemed appropriate—she
pulled Paolina close and hugged her.
“Come, we’ll talk to Barbara Rae. She’ll know just what to do. Barbara Rae is very persuasive—she might be able to persuade
your father to relent.”
Although Annie spoke with confidence, she was filled with trepidation. She knew Barbara Rae to be an excellent mediator, and
it was remarkable how often people changed their minds after she exercised her gentle art of moral persuasion. Butshe was not always successful. There was something strong, yet tragic, about Paolina, and Annie felt afraid for her.
They were getting up to go find Barbara Rae when, behind them, Annie heard a door slam.
“Where is she?” boomed a male voice, and Paolina’s eyes went wild. She jumped to her feet, whispering,
“Madre de Dios,”
under her breath, then, “Vico!”
A dark-haired young man came striding into the room, and for an instant all Annie could think was:
Here he is, the young Hades, dark and wild, determined to snatch away the pale Persephone and bear her away to his private
Underworld.
He was as startlingly beautiful as Paolina. But he was dark, with shiny black hair falling too long over his neck and ears,
in defiance of the latest teenage style. His face was classically Roman—a long arrogant oval with an aquiline nose and a determined
chin. His eyes were black, with pinpricks of fire in their depths. He was of medium height, stocky and muscular, and he looked
the way the still-handsome Giuseppe must have looked twenty years earlier.
Annie had seen him working on the construction site with his uncle, had overheard several of their flash-fire arguments. She
had seen him stalk off, defiant, not caring what anybody thought of him.
He was seventeen years old.
Smarter than anybody.
Braver.
He knew what he wanted.
He wasn’t going to let anything stand in his way.
Certainly not his pale, submissive girlfriend or the woman who had, along with Jack Fletcher, discharged him from theconstruction job that might have given him his one chance to make something of his life.
He walked straight up to Annie, the expression on his face coldly furious. Then he reached out for Paolina’s hand, which seemed
to be drawn to him, like iron to a powerful magnet.
“They said she was talking to a youth counselor,” he spat. “Is that what you call yourself here?”
“I work as a volunteer, yes,” Annie said.
“I’ll bet you didn’t tell her that you’re the bitch who fired me from my job.”
Paolina’s eyes flew to Annie’s face. Annie hardened herself. She knew his type, all too well. She knew intimately the extent
of the betrayal he felt.
“And did you tell Paolina why you were fired?” she countered. “Or did you lie to her about selling drugs to children?”
Something flashed in those dark, mesmerizing eyes. “I do not lie, and I wasn’t selling drugs,” he said, and jerked Paolina’s
hand. “Come. We are leaving.”
“She needs
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