Darkness Past

by Sherryl Hancock

  Standing in the doorway, Sierra saw Kashena at the window, smoking a cigar and blowing the smoke outside. It was a concession to the fact that there was now a child in her house. It warmed Sierra’s heart. She walked over and wrapped her arms around Kashena’s waist.

  “Thank you,” she said softly.

  “For what?” Kashena stubbed out her cigar and turned around to face Sierra, leaning back against the window ledge.

  “For everything,” Sierra said, looking up at her.

  “You mean like letting Jason nail you while I was standing right there?” Kashena said, her tone self-castigating.

  Sierra’s mouth opened in shock at what Kashena had just said. She reached up to touch the light bruises on Kashena’s neck. “You had no way of knowing he’d get violent so quickly. God, even I didn’t think he would ever out-and-out hit me, especially in front of Colby.”

  “What made you think that?” Kashena asked.

  “When I was pregnant, he used to talk about how his father always beat his mother in front of him. That he’d never to do that to his child.”

  “Guess he changed his mind,” Kashena said wryly.

  Sierra shook her head. “I think he just knows he’s losing control of me, and that’s making him crazy.”

  Kashena still looked unhappy.

  “Kashena, you stopped him,” Sierra said, touching her cheek. “He would have done a lot worse if you hadn’t been there. I’m afraid he would have turned on Colby too, because Colby would have defended me.”

  Kashena narrowed her eyes at the thought of Jason hitting a defenseless child.

  “So thank you for being there,” Sierra said, “and thank you for letting us stay here, and—”

  Kashena’s lips on hers stopped her litany.

  “I got it,” Kashena said, smiling when their lips parted.

  “Good,” Sierra said, smiling back.

  Later, after they’d showered and had gone to bed, Kashena wearing her usual sweat pants and a tank top and Sierra wearing her silk pajama shirt and shorts, Sierra lay on her back, Kashena on her stomach. They were close together on the bed, but their only contact was Kashena’s arm across Sierra’s stomach. Their faces were turned toward each other.

  It was something Colby noticed that night when he creeped into the bedroom. He stood staring down at his mother and her bodyguard. Tilting his head, he looked at the tattoo on Kashena’s upper arm. He touched it lightly with his forefinger. His eyes widened as he realized it was a Marine tattoo like his father’s. When he glanced at Kashena, amazement still written on his face, he saw that her eyes were open.

  “You’re a Marine like my dad?” Colby asked, unabashed.

  Kashena nodded. “Honorably discharged, but I was a Marine, yes,” she whispered.

  Colby took in that piece of information, then he looked at Kashena again.

  “Why did my dad hit my mother?” he asked, his voice tremulous.

  Kashena didn’t answer for a moment, then gave Colby a sympathetic look. “He was angry that your mother was leaving and taking you.”

  Colby nodded.

  “He shouldn’t have hit her,” he said a few moments later.

  “No, he shouldn’t have.”

  “I’m glad you stopped him,” he said, his voice tinged with anger.

  Kashena nodded.

  “Does he love my mother?” Colby asked, his expression almost concerned.

  Kashena wasn’t sure how to answer that. “I don’t know, Colby. I assume he does—that’s why he was angry that she was leaving him.”

  Colby looked directly at Kashena. “Do you love my mother?”

  Kashena stared back at him. This child was very perceptive. There really was no point in lying to him, and the fact was, Kashena didn’t want to.

  “Yes, I do,” Kashena said softly.

  “And you’ll protect her?”

  “With my life.”

  Colby nodded. Kashena could see his mind was churning over everything. It amazed her that someone so young could assimilate so much, and still take in more.

  Sierra stirred then, glancing up at Kashena and seeing that she was looking at something else. Turning her head, Sierra saw Colby standing next to the bed.

  “Colby, are you okay?” she asked, turning over to face him. “Did you have a bad dream?”

  “Mom, she’s a Marine too,” Colby told Sierra.

  “I know, honey,” Sierra said, smiling and glancing back at Kashena, who was grinning.

  “So she can protect you,” Colby said, his tone satisfied.

  “And she has,” Sierra said, nodding.

  Colby’s look slid between his mother and Kashena, and then back to Sierra.

  “I like it here,” he announced.

  Sierra smiled at him; Kashena chuckled. This was an easy transition.

  ***

  At San Francisco International Airport, Sable, Cat, and the rest of Sable’s entourage were whisked through customs in no time. Cat shook her head. She’d ceased to be amazed at how Sable was treated. The woman wanted something, she got it, no questions asked. That was why Cat wasn’t surprised to see a brand-new SUV parked curbside with a man standing next to it holding a sign with Sable’s name on it.

  Amidst the paparazzi taking picture after picture, Sable walked over to the man next to the vehicle. He pulled out a clipboard and had her sign in a few places. Then he handed her the keys. Cat watched it all with amusement written on her face. She watched as the rest of the group climbed into a black SUV that was at the curb as well. The black SUV pulled away, and Cat looked at Sable again.

  “Don’t tell me you just bought an SUV to drive around San Francisco in,” Cat said, as Sable handed the porter the keys so he could load their luggage in the back. “You know they have rental agencies that rent out luxury cars?”

  Sable only shrugged, smiling at Cat. Cat rolled her eyes. Even so, she checked out the vehicle, while studiously ignoring the men with the cameras behind her. It was habit now.

  The SUV was a Porsche Cayenne, their answer to the sports utility vehicle trend. It was nice, Cat had to say that—Sable had excellent taste. Naturally, Sable had gotten top of the line, the Turbo model, which held a 4.5-liter, 8-cylinder engine that put out 450 horsepower. A very powerful engine indeed. Starting at $90,000, it should be. Sable had chosen the blue with the steel-gray leather interior.

  When the porter had finished putting the bags in the vehicle, he went to hand the keys back to Sable. Sable shook her head.

  “Give them to my girlfriend, please,” she said, handing the man a hundred-dollar bill.

  The porter tipped his hat to her, and then walked around the vehicle and handed Cat the keys.

  Cat looked around the vehicle at Sable.

  “It’s your town,” Sable said, smiling. “You drive.”

  Cat got in on the driver’s side, and the porter opened the door for Sable.

  Cat looked around the interior of the vehicle. It had everything, including a Bose surround stereo system. Top of the line all the way, that was Sable. The woman was no slouch.

  Starting the vehicle, Cat closed her eyes for a moment. It definitely had a powerful engine. She breathed in the scent of the rich leather, combined with that new-car smell—it was heaven.

  Sable watched Cat, smiling. The woman could definitely appreciate quality. She’d spared no expense for this vehicle. Everything was perfect; she was very happy with it.

  Once they were on the 101 headed for San Francisco, Cat glanced at Sable.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked, not for the first time.

  “Yes, I want to meet your mother,” Sable said, her tone flabbergasted.

  Cat grinned. “You’re probably going to give her a heart attack, you know.”

  “Why?” Sable asked, looking worried.

  “Ah.” Cat looked a bit contrite. “Because she happens to be a major fan of yours.”

  Sable stared open-mouthed at Cat. “You little brat, why did
n’t you tell me that?”

  “Because I didn’t want to pressure you into meeting my mother,” Cat said, rolling her eyes.

  “Well, now I really want to meet her,” Sable said. “Someone who appreciates good music.”

  “Hey now,” Cat said. “I have some of your albums.”

  “Some,” Sable repeated, pressing her lips together as she shook her head.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Cat said. “You like that I’m not a slobbering fan.”

  “I like that you’re beautiful, sexy, smart, and exciting as hell,” Sable said. “Being a fan would only be a plus.”

  “I’ll work on becoming a fan.” Cat smiled.

  “That’s what I like to hear,” Sable said, chuckling.

  Cat was set to meet her mother in a popular restaurant/bar in the Castro, as it was called. The bar was called The Café. Cat figured that if Sable changed her mind, she could drop Sable at the hotel, and her mother wouldn’t know that Cat was in San Francisco with Sable Sands until hopefully it was too late. Of course, Cat would never hear the end of it from her mother.

  “So, you haven’t told your mother that you’re dating me?” Sable asked as Cat exited the freeway onto Mission Street.

  “Uh, no.”

  “Why not?” Sable asked.

  “Trust me,” Cat said as she took a quick left onto Market. “You’ll understand when you meet her.”

  Sable narrowed her eyes, then looked around her. “Well, you definitely know your way around,” she said. “I’d have been hopelessly lost by now.”

  Cat smiled. “This is where I learned to drive, babe.”

  Sable gave Cat a sidelong glance. “So, how does the Cayenne handle?”

  “It’s nice,” Cat said, grinning.

  “You like it?” Sable asked pointedly.

  Cat glanced over at Sable, and saw it in her look.

  “You didn’t…” Cat said in disbelief.

  “Guilty,” Sable said unapologetically.

  “Sable, no.”

  “Cat, yes,” Sable countered, shrugging delicately. “I bought it for you. It’s in your name, and it’s yours. Do with it what you want.”

  “Sable, it’s a ninety-thousand-dollar vehicle!” Cat exclaimed.

  “Actually it was one hundred and ten, but who’s counting?” Sable grinned.

  Cat stared at her for a moment, then sighed, shaking her head.

  “You spoil me way too much,” Cat said as they arrived at the Castro and she found a parking space, thankfully close to The Café.

  Leaning across the seat, she touched Sable on the cheek, then kissed her lips. “Thank you.”

  Sable smiled brilliantly. “You’re welcome.”

  Cat got out of the vehicle, glancing over at Sable as she got out. There could be no missing Sable Sands, even if she weren’t extremely famous. She wore skintight black leather pants with high-heeled black leather boots. She also wore a black lace bra with a sheer leopard-print blouse over it, and a gold chain belt that looped around her tiny waist and slim hips. Her rich brown hair, shot through with blond highlights, was a long silky mane down to her waist. No, no one could miss Sable Sands—that’s how she wanted it.

  Naturally people started to stop and stare, simply because Sable was a beautiful woman. Then they realized who she was. Cat leaned against the driver’s side fender of the Cayenne, watching people coming up to Sable, staring at her reverently. She was used to people’s reactions to Sable and knew that it was best to stay back, lest she get between fans and their idol.

  Oddly enough, people were very respectful of Sable. They didn’t grab at her, or try to maul her in any way. Some would reverently reach out to touch her hair, but not to pull any out or anything so violent. Cat wondered at that—was it because Sable was one of their kind? She was a goddess to the gay masses.

  After about five minutes, people started to back off. Sable looked over at Cat, who walked around the front of the vehicle to extend her hand to Sable. Sable took it, and they walked toward The Café together. A number of the older men and women in the community recognized Cat, calling hellos to her. Cat waved, smiling over her shoulder at them.

  Cat had dressed more retro and conservative for this trip, in a jean miniskirt, beige calfskin ankle boots, and a paisley-print blouse of blues, browns, and beige with long flowing sleeves. Two small braids held the front of her hair off her face, while the rest hung loose around her shoulders. She was the classic beautiful hippy chick.

  At the door to The Café, Sable was asked for her autograph by a few people who’d walked up. Cat glanced back at her.

  “Go on ahead. I’ll catch up,” Sable said.

  “Okay,” Cat said, grinning and shaking her head.

  Cat walked upstairs, looking for her mother, who was, predictably, parked at the bar. Walking up behind her, Cat put her hand on her mother’s shoulder.

  “Ms. Roché, I presume,” Cat said.

  Melanie Roché turned around, beaming at her daughter. Melanie was an older version of Cat with slightly darker blond hair. She had the same sparkling blue eyes, although she’d gained some weight over the years, so she wasn’t quite as slim and lithe as Catalina was.

  “Catalina!” Melanie exclaimed. She threw her arms around her daughter, then held her at arm’s length, looking her over. “You’re alright, aren’t you?” she asked, motherly concern on for the moment.

  “Yes, Mom, I’m fine,” Cat said, smiling.

  “Well, where have you been?” Melanie patted the barstool next to her for Cat to sit down

  “Around,” Cat said, nodding toward a table.

  “Well, you haven’t been at your apartment,” Melanie said, getting up from the bar and following Cat to a table. She sat down across from her daughter. “I called over and over and finally got Elizabeth, who told me you no longer lived there.”

  Cat looked annoyed. “I don’t live there anymore, Mom. We broke up.”

  “Why?” Melanie asked. “I thought you two were—”

  “Yeah, so did I,” Cat interrupted, “but I was wrong, and it’s over.”

  Melanie looked at her daughter. Catalina had always been a free spirit when it came to romance. So much like Melanie herself. It was for that reason that she’d been surprised when Catalina had brought Elizabeth to meet her almost a year ago. Cat had told her that Elizabeth was her girlfriend, even showing Melanie the ring Elizabeth had given her.

  Melanie looked for the ring on Cat’s hand and saw it wasn’t there.

  “You gave back that beautiful ring?” Melanie asked.

  “I left it behind, yes,” Cat said. “It didn’t mean what I thought it did.”

  “What happened?” Melanie asked, not understanding this. Catalina had seemed so happy with Elizabeth, and the young Englishwoman had certainly been besotted with Cat.

  There was a ruckus behind them. Cat was saved from answering her mother’s question as Sable walked up the stairs, people trailing behind her, still asking for autographs. Melanie looked to see what all the noise was about. Her eyes widened dramatically.

  “My God, that’s Sable Sands…” Melanie began. As she started to stand up, Cat’s hand on hers stopped her. “For God’s sake, Catalina, that’s—”

  “I know, Mom,” Cat said. “Just wait.”

  As Sable managed to disengage herself from the crowd, she started walking toward the table Cat and her mother sat at. Every eye in the place was on her.

  Cat stood, smiling slyly. Sable walked right up to her, and, taking Cat’s face gently in her hands, she kissed her on the lips. Their intimacy was obvious to everyone.

  Melanie could have been knocked over with a feather.

  When their lips parted, Cat looked at her mother.

  “Mom,” she said, knowing what a shock she was giving her poor mother, “this is Sable. Sable Sands, this is my mother, Melanie Roché.”

  Sable was, as always, gracious and genuine in her greeting. Putting her hands out, she took both of Melanie’s.

&nb
sp; “It’s great to meet the mother of such a fantastic woman. I can see where Cat gets her looks,” she said with a wink and a sly smile.

  Melanie was speechless, probably for the first time in her life. Her eyes jumped between Sable and Cat and then back to Sable again.

  “I—” she stammered. “Thank you. Won’t you please sit down?”

  “Thank you,” Sable said, smiling.

  Cat stepped back, gesturing for Sable to sit next to her. Sable slid into the booth, smiling again at the still shell-shocked Melanie. Cat sat back down, glancing at Sable, then looking at her mother again.

  “Mom?” Cat said. “You coming back down to Earth anytime soon?”

  Melanie snapped out of her trance, giving her daughter a dirty look. “Shut up, you little sneak. You know you just shocked the hell out of your poor mother.”

  Cat grinned, rolling her eyes.

  “So, is this where you’ve been?” Melanie asked, gesturing to Sable.

  “Yes,” Cat said. “I’ve been in Europe with Sable.”

  Melanie nodded, looking perplexed. “How and when did you two meet? I mean, a month ago you’re in San Diego and get attacked and nearly killed. Now I find out you’ve been in Europe? For how long?”

  “I was in Europe with Sable for three weeks, Mom,” Cat said, glancing at Sable, who took her hand. “She kind of rescued me.”

  “Rescued you?” Melanie queried.

  “What she means,” Sable put in, “is that I showed up where she was staying and dragged her back to Europe with me.”

  “Dragged?” Melanie asked, raising an eyebrow at her daughter. Leave it to her ever difficult child to fight going to Europe with a world-famous rock star.

  “She talked me into it,” Cat said, smiling.

  “Begged, is more like it,” Sable interjected.

  “Did not,” Cat said, narrowing her eyes at Sable.

  “Did so,” Sable countered, narrowing her eyes too.

  They both grinned.

  “Okay, so she told me she wanted to take me to Europe and had to do a little wrangling to get me to go,” Cat conceded.