Passion's Promise

by Danielle Steel

  Alejandro looked at his watch, and Luke nodded.

  “Yeah. It’s about that time.” He signaled for the check and Alejandro made a gesture to reach for his wallet. With a sharp look in his eyes, Luke shook his head. And this wasn’t a day to argue with him. He left the money on the small wicker platter the waiter had left with the bill, and they pushed the table away. Kezia felt as though she could hear a drum roll as they walked outside to the limousine. She felt like the costar in a B movie. They couldn’t be real people, this couldn’t be an hour before Luke’s hearing, it couldn’t be happening to them. None of it seemed real. And then, as the limousine rolled them inexorably away, she started to laugh, almost hysterically.

  “What’s funny?” Luke was tense, and Alejandro was silent now. Her laughter rang out jarringly. There was something shattering about it, something unbearably painful. It wasn’t real laughter.

  “Everything’s funny, Luke. All of it. It really is, it … I… it’s all so absurd.” She laughed on, until he took her hand and held it too hard. Then she stopped, fears suddenly trying to rush into the space where the laughter had been. It was all so absurd, all those ridiculous people at Trader Vic’s—they’d be going to a concert after lunch, or the hairdresser, or to board meetings, or I. Magnin’s, or to tea parties and dressmakers … leading their perfectly normal lives. But what could be normal, that, or this? None of it made any sense. The laughter tried to bubble back into her mouth, but she wouldn’t let it. She knew that if she laughed again she would cry, and maybe even howl. That was what she wanted to do. Howl like a dog.

  They drove west into the pale afternoon sun, and then south on Van Ness Avenue, past used cars and new cars and the blue plastic of the Jack Tar Hotel. The ride seemed to go on forever. People were busy, were running, were going, were living, and all too soon the dome of City Hall loomed before them. It stuck out like a proud gilded onion, a dowager’s tit, noble and overdressed in patina and gold. Terrifying. City Hall. And within so few feet, other limousines were beginning to arrive for the symphony at the Opera House. Nothing made any sense.

  Kezia felt vague and confused, almost drunk, though she’d had only coffee. And only the steadying presence of Luke on one side and Alejandro on the other kept her feet moving. Up the steps, through the doors, into the building, past the people … oh God … oh God, no!

  “I need a pack of smokes.” Luke strode away from them and they followed, through the vast marble halls and under the dome. He walked with the determined rolling gait she knew so well, and silently she reached for Alejandro’s hand.

  “You okay, Kezia?”

  She answered with a question in her eyes: I don’t know. Am I?

  “Yes,” She gave him a small wintry smile and looked up at the dome. How could ugly things happen here? It looked like Vienna or Paris or Rome, the columns and friezes and arches, the lofty swoop of the dome, the echo, the gold leaf. The day was really here. January eighth. The hearing. She was nose to nose with it now. Brutal reality.

  She held tight to Luke’s hand as they rode up in the elevator, and she stood as close to him as she could … closer … tighter … nearer … more…. She wanted to slip inside his skin, bury herself in his heart.

  The elevator stopped on four, and they followed the corridors to the law library where the attorney had said he would meet them. They passed a courtroom, and suddenly Luke pushed her aside, almost thrusting her at Alejandro.

  “What …”

  “Fucking bastards.” Luke’s face was suddenly angry and red, and Alejandro understood before she did. They quickened their pace, and he put an arm around her shoulders.

  “Alejandro, what…”

  “Come on, babe, we’ll talk about it later.” The two men exchanged a look over her head, and when she saw the television cameras waiting, she knew. So that was it. Lucas was going to make news. Either way.

  They detoured the reporters unnoticed, and slipped into the law library to wait. The attorney joined them after a few minutes, a thick file in his hand, a tense look on his face. But something about his demeanor impressed Kezia more than it had at the hotel.

  “Everyone ready?” He tried to look jovial and failed dismally.

  “Now? Already?” It wasn’t two o’clock yet, and Kezia was beginning to panic, but Alejandro still had a tight grip on her shoulders. Luke was pacing in front of a book-lined wall.

  “No. It’ll be a few minutes. I’ll meet you back here, and let you know when the judge is in court.”

  “Is there any other way into the courtroom?” Alejandro was troubled.

  “I … is … why?” The attorney looked puzzled.

  “Have you walked past the courtroom yet?”

  “No. Not yet.”

  “It’s crawling with reporters. Television cameras, the works.”

  “The judge won’t let them inside. Not to worry.”

  “Yeah. But we’ll still have to walk through them.”

  “No, we won’t.” Luke was back in their midst. “Or Kezia won’t in any case, if that’s what you’re worried about, Al.”

  “Lucas, I most certainly will!” Small as she was, she looked as though in the heat of the moment she might hit him.

  “You will not. And that’s that.” This was no time to argue with him. The look on his face made that much clear. “I want you here. I’ll come and get you when it’s over.”

  “But I want to be in there with you.”

  “On TV?” His voice dripped irony, not kindness.

  “You heard what he said. They won’t be in court.”

  “They don’t need to be. They’ll get you coming and going. And you don’t need that. And neither do I. I am not going to argue with you, Kezia. You’re staying here in the library, or you can go back to the hotel. Now. Is that clear?”

  “All right.”

  The attorney left them, and Luke began to pace again, and suddenly he stopped and walked slowly toward her, his eyes fixed on hers, everything about him familiar and dear. It was as though the barbed wire had gone from his spine. Alejandro sensed the mood and moved slowly toward a distant row of maroon and gold books.

  “Baby …” Luke was only a foot away from her, but he didn’t reach out to touch her, he only looked, watching her, as though counting every hair on her head, every thread in her dress. He took in all of her, and his eyes bore through to her soul.

  “Lucas, I love you.”

  “Mama, I have never ever loved you more. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Yes. And you know how much I love you?”

  He nodded, his eyes still digging deep.

  “Why are they doing this to us?”

  “Because I decided to take my chances a long time ago, before I knew you. I think I’d have done it differently if I’d known you all along. Maybe not. I’m a shitkicker, Kezia. You know it. I know it. They know it. It’s for a good cause, but I’m a thorn in their side. I’ve always thought it was worth it, if I could change something for the better … but I didn’t know then that I’d be doing this to you.”

  “Is it still worth it, for you, not counting me?” Even without considering her, how could it have been now? But his answer surprised her.

  “Yes.” His eyes didn’t waver, but there was something sad and old about them that she had never seen before. He was a man paying a heavy price, even if they didn’t revoke him. It had already cost him a great deal.

  “It’s worth it even now, Lucas?”

  “Yes. Even now. The only thing I feel like shit about is you. I should never have dragged you through it. I knew better right at the start.”

  “Lucas, you’re the only man I’ve ever loved, maybe the only human being I’ve ever loved. If you hadn’t ‘dragged me through this,’ my life would never have been worth a good goddamn. And I can live with what’s happening. Either way.” For a moment she was as powerful as he; it was as though his strength had filled her to catalyze her own.

  “And what if I go?”

 
; “You won’t.” I won’t let you….

  “I might.” He seemed almost detached, as if he was ready to go if he had to.

  “Then I’ll handle that too.”

  “Just handle yourself, little lady. You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved like this. I won’t let anything destroy you. Not even me. Remember that. And whatever I do, you’ve got to know that I know what’s best. For both of us.”

  “Darling, what do you mean?” Her voice was a whisper. She was afraid.

  “Just trust me.” And then, without another word, he bridged the last foot between them, pulled her into his arms and held her breathlessly close. “Kezia, right now I feel like the luckiest man in the world. Even here.”

  “Just the most loved.” There were tears brushing her lashes, as she buried her face in his chest. Alejandro was forgotten, the law library had faded around them. The only thing they had that mattered and was real was each other.

  “Ready?” The lawyer’s face looked like a vision from a bad dream. Neither of them had heard him coming. Nor had they seen Alejandro watching them with tears streaming down his face. He wiped them away as he walked toward them.

  “Yeah. I’m ready.”

  “Lucas …” She clung to him for a moment, and he pushed her ever so gently away.

  “Take it easy, Mama. I’ll be back in a minute.” He gave her a lopsided smile and squeezed her hand tight. She wanted so desperately to reach out to him, to keep him from going, to stop it, to hold him close and never let him go….

  “We’d best be …” The attorney looked pointedly at his watch.

  “We’re going.” He signaled to Alejandro, gave Kezia a last ferocious squeeze, and strode to the door, his attorney and his friend right behind him. Kezia was standing where he had left her.

  “Lucas!” He turned at the door as her voice echoed in the silent rows of books. “God be with you!”

  “I love you.” His three words rang in her ears as the door whooshed slowly closed.

  There was no sound, not even that of a clock ticking. Nothing. Silence. Kezia sat in a straight-backed chair and watched a sliver of sunlight asleep on the floor. She didn’t smoke. She didn’t cry. She only waited. It was the longest half hour of her life. Her mind seemed to doze like the sun on the floor. The chair was uncomfortable but she didn’t feel it. She didn’t think, didn’t feel, didn’t see, didn’t hear. Not even the footsteps that finally came. She was numb.

  She saw his feet pointing at hers before she saw his face. But they were the wrong feet, the wrong shoes, a different color and too small. Boots … Alejandro … where was Luke?

  Her eyes ran up the legs until they reached his face. His eyes were dark and hard. He said nothing, only stood there.

  “Where is Lucas?” The words were small and precise. Her whole body had stopped. And he answered all in one breath.

  “Kezia, they revoked him. He’s in custody.”

  “What?” She flew to her feet. Everything had started again, only now it was all going too fast instead of too slowly. “My God, Alejandro! Where is he?”

  “He’s still in the courtroom. Kezia, no … don’t go …” She was on her way to the door, her feet racing over the gray marble floor. “Kezia!”

  “Go to hell!” She flew out the door just as he caught her arm. “Stop it, damn you! I have to see him!”

  “Okay. Then let’s go.” He held her hand tightly in his, and hand in hand they ran down the hall. “He may be gone now.”

  She didn’t answer, she only ran faster, her shoes beating like her heart, pounding the floor as they ran. The reporters had already thinned out. They had their story. Lucas Johns was on his way back to Quentin. So it goes. Poor sonofabitch.

  Kezia shoved her way past two men blocking the door of the courtroom, and Alejandro slipped in beside her. The judge was leaving the bench, and all she could see was one man, sitting quietly, alone, his back to her, facing straight ahead.

  “Lucas?” She slowed to a walk and approached him slowly. He turned his head toward her, and there was nothing on his face. It was a mask. A different man than she knew. An iron wall with two eyes. Two eyes that held tears, but said nothing.

  “Darling, I love you.” She had her arms around him then, and he leaned slowly against her, letting his head rest on her chest, letting his weight go, his whole body seeming to sag. But his arms never moved to go around her, and then she saw why. He was already in handcuffs. They hadn’t wasted much time. His wallet and change lay on the table before him, and among them were the keys to the New York apartment, and his ring, the one she had given him for Christmas. “Lucas, why did they do it?”

  “They had to. Now you go home.”

  “No. I’ll stay till you go. Don’t talk. Oh Christ, Lucas … I love you.” She fought back the tears. He would not see her cry. He was strong, so was she. But she was dying inside.

  “I love you too, so do me a favor and go. Get the hell out of here, will you?” The tears had gone from his eyes and she covered his mouth with her own as her answer. She was bending toward him, her thin arms and small hands trying to envelop the whole of his body, as though he were a child and had grown too big for her lap. Why had they done it? Why couldn’t she take this away from him? Why couldn’t she have bought them? Why? All this pain and the ugliness and the handcuffs … why was there nothing she could do? Fucking goddamn parole board, and the judge and …

  “Okay, Mr. Johns.” There was a nasty inflection on the “Mr.,” and the voice came from right behind her.

  “Kezia, go!” It was the command of a general, not a plea from the defeated.

  “Where are they taking you?” As her eyes flew open wide with anger and fear, she felt Alejandro’s hands on her shoulders, pulling her back.

  “To county jail. Alejandro knows. Then to Quentin. Now get the fuck out of here. Now!” He rose to his full height and faced the guard who was about to lead him away.

  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.

  “Y
ou 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.”