Danielle Steel - Passion's Promise

She stood on tiptoe briefly and kissed him, and then almost blindly she let Alejandro lead her out of the court. She stood for a moment in the hall, and then as though in a distant vision far off down the hall she saw him go, a guard on either side, his hands shackled in front of him. He never looked back and it seemed as though, long after he was gone, she felt her mouth open, and a long piercing sound filled the air. A woman was screaming but she didn’t know who. It couldn’t be someone she knew. Nice people don’t scream. But the sound wouldn’t end and someone’s arms were holding her tight, as flashbulbs began to explode in her face and strange voices assailed her.

And then suddenly she was flying over the city in a glass cage, and after that she was led into a strange room and someone put her to bed and she felt very cold. Very cold. A man piled blankets on her, and another man with funny glasses and a mustache gave her a shot. She started to laugh at him because he looked so funny, but then that terrifying sound came back again. The woman was screaming. What woman? It was a long, endless howl. It filled the room until all the light was squeezed out of her eyes and everything went black.

Chapter 27

When Kezia woke up, Alejandro was sitting in the room with her, watching her. It was dark. He looked tired and rumpled and was surrounded by empty cups. He looked as though he had spent the night in the chair, and he had.

She watched him for a long time; her eyes were open and it was hard to blink. Her eyes felt bigger than they ever had before.

“You awake?” His voice was a hoarse whisper. The ashtrays were filled to the brim.

She nodded. “I can’t close my eyes.”

He smiled at her. “I think you’re still stoned. Why don’t you go back to sleep?”

She only shook her head, and then tears washed the too-open eyes. Even that didn’t help her to close them. “I want to get up.”

“And do what?” She made him very nervous.

“Go pee pee.” She giggled and choked on fresh tears.

“Oh.” The smile was brotherly and tired.

“You know something?” She looked at him curiously.

“What?”

“You look like hell. You stayed up all night, didn’t you?”

“I dozed. Don’t worry about me.”

“Why not?” She staggered out of bed and headed for the john, pausing in the doorway. “Alejandro, when can I see Luke?”

“Not fill tomorrow.” So she already remembered. He had been afraid that he would have to start from scratch after the shot they’d given her the night before. It was now six in the morning.

“You mean today or tomorrow?”

“I mean tomorrow.”

“Why can’t I see him till then?”

“County only has two visiting days. Wednesday and Sunday. Tomorrow is Wednesday. Them’s the rules.”

“Bastards.” She slammed the bathroom door and he lit another cigarette. He was into his fourth pack since the night had begun. It had been one hell of a night. And she still hadn’t seen the crap in the papers. Edward had called four times that night. He’d seen the news in New York. He was half out of his mind.

When she came back, she sat on the edge of the bed and lit a cigarette from his pack. She looked tired, haggard, and pale. The tan seemed to have instantly faded, and dark rims framed her eyes all the way around, like purple eye shadow gone wild.

“Lady, you don’t look so hot. I think you ought to stay in bed.” She didn’t answer, but only sat there, smoking and swinging her foot, her head turned away from him.

“Kezia?”

“Yeah?” She was crying again when she turned to face him, and she felt like a very small child melting into his arms. “Oh God, Alejandro. Why? How can they do this to us? To him?”

“Because sometimes it happens that way. Call it fate, if you want.”

“I’d call it fucked.” He smiled tiredly and then sighed. “Babe …” She had to know, but he hated to tell her. “Yeah?”

“I don’t know if you remember, but the newspaper boys took a bunch of pictures as they led Luke away.” He held his breath and watched the look on her face. He could see that she didn’t remember.

“Those shits, why couldn’t they leave him his last shred of dignity? Miserable, rotten …”

Alejandro shook his head. “Kezia … they took pictures of you.” The words dropped like a bomb.

“Of me?”

He nodded.

“Jesus.”

“They just thought you were his old lady, and I had Luke’s attorney call them and ask them not to run the pictures or your name. But by then, they knew who you were. Somebody spotted the pictures when they were developing them. That’s a lot of bad luck.”

“They ran the pictures?” She sat very still.

“Out here, you’re page one. Page four in New York. Edward called a few times last night.” Kezia threw back her head and started to laugh. It was a nervous, hysterical laugh, and not the reaction he had expected.

“Man, we really bought it this time, didn’t we? Edward must be dying, poor thing.” But she didn’t sound very sympathetic. She sounded distracted.

“That’s putting it mildly.” Alejandro almost felt sorry for the man. He had sounded so stricken. So betrayed.

“Well, you plays, you pays, as they say. How bad are the pictures?”

About as bad as you could get. She had been hysterical when the photographers had spotted them. Alejandro pulled the evening edition of the Examiner from under the bed and held it out to her. On the front page was a photograph of Kezia collapsing in Alejandro’s arms. She cringed as she saw it, and glanced at the text. “Socialite heiress Kezia Saint Martin, secret girlfriend of ex-con Lucas Johns, collapses outside courtroom after …” It was worse than they had feared.

“I think Edward is mainly concerned with what kind of shape you’re in now.”

“My ass, he is. He’s having a heart attack over the story. You don’t know Edward.” She sounded almost like a child afraid of her father. It seemed odd to Alejandro.

“Did he know about Luke?”

“Not like this he didn’t. Actually, he knew I had interviewed him, and he also knew there’s been someone important in my life for the last few months. Well, sooner or later, I guess it had to come out. We were lucky till now. It’s a bitch that it has to be like this though. Have the papers called since?”

“A few times. I told them there was no story, and you were flying back to New York today. I thought that might get them off your back, and they’d keep busy watching the airport.”

“And the lobby.”

He hadn’t thought about that. What an insane way to live.

“We’ll have to call the manager and arrange to get out of here. I want to move to the Ritz. They won’t find us there.”

“No, but you can count on some coverage tomorrow if you want to see Luke at the jail.”

She stood up and faced him, an icy look in her eyes. “Not ‘if,’ Alejandro, ‘when.’ And if they want to be pigs about it, fuck them.”

* * *

The day slipped by in a haze of silence and cigarette smoke. Their move to the Ritz passed uneventfully. A fifty dollar “gift” to the manager encouraged him to show them out through a back door, and keep his mouth shut about it later. Apparently, he had. There were no calls for them at the Ritz.

Kezia sat lost in her own thoughts, rarely speaking. She was thinking of Luke, and how he had looked when they led him away … and before that, how he had looked in the law library. He had been a free man then, for those last precious moments.

She called Edward from the Ritz and struggled through a brief, anguished conversation with him. They both cried. Edward kept repeating, “How could you do this?” He left the words “to me” unspoken, but they were there, nevertheless. He wanted her to fly home or let him fly out. He exploded when she refused.