Lightning (48 page)

“I know how frightened you were,” she said, forgiving him for the pain he had caused her. He really did sound as though he'd learned something from it.

“You can't even begin to know how frightened I was. I was crazed. I couldn't even see you. All I saw was my mother. I was such a damn fool,” he said, holding her, as she tried not to remember.

“I know,” she said softly. “Things work out strangely sometimes,” she said philosophically, willing to accept what was, rather than what had been. She knew he was sorry. There was no point tormenting him over what had happened, though Brock would have been incensed that she forgave him. He would have been incensed over many things. But this wasn't his night, it was hers and Sam's, and it was very precious.

He walked her slowly home after that. They lingered, with his arm around her shoulders. And then he kissed her again. They stood that way for ages outside his old house, and she wanted to ask him up, but she knew she couldn't. They couldn't go on clinging to the past. They had to let go now. At least they were leaving each other something warm to remember.

“Thank you,” she whispered, as she kissed him for the last time. “I'll see you tomorrow.” He was coming to say good-bye to Annabelle, which was going to be ghastly. Alex had taken his check for their daughter with her, but she had left his check for her on the table at the Carlyle, but he hadn't seen it.

“I love you,” he said for a last time, overwhelmed with how beautiful she was, and how much he loved her. He watched her go inside, and as he walked back to the hotel, there were tears running down his cheeks as he wondered how he could have been so stupid. He had blown his entire life and now he had nothing. No future, and no Alex. It was hardly worth living.

And alone in her bed, Alex remembered what it had been like making love to him. It was just like old times, she thought with a smile, only better. They had both learned a lot in the last year, about loving, and forgiveness. She only prayed that, wherever he went, he would be safe, and find something worthwhile to keep him going. She couldn't be there for him now. She owed too much to Brock. And no matter how much she still loved Sam, she knew she had to leave him. But Lord, how she would miss him.

Chapter 23

W
hen Sam came to say good-bye to Annabelle, it almost killed all of them. Sam was fobbing when he left, and Annabelle, and Alex and Carmen were crying. All he had been able to explain to her was that he had worked with some men who had done bad things, and he hadn't paid attention to what they were doing. They had taken people's money, which was wrong, and now he and the bad men had to go to jail to make up for taking the money.

He could have told her that he was going on a long trip. But he didn't. He said that one day she could come to see him, but it wasn't a nice place, and he'd like her to be a little older. He told her to be a good girl, take care of Mommy, and always, always remember how much he loved her. He held her tightly in his arms while they all cried, but no one more than Sam or Alex. Annabelle was confused by what was happening, and she was upset that he was going, and that bad men had taken money. But she had no concept of twenty or thirty years. None of them did. It was beyond them. It simply felt like forever.

Alex walked out to the elevator with him, and clung to him. She had asked Brock not to come until later that evening. And just after he left, she called Sam at the Carlyle.

“Are you all right?” She was worried about him. This was too much for anyone, especially given the minor degree of his involvement. His main sin had been letting it happen.

“I'm okay. I didn't think I could ever leave her. I didn't think I could leave you either.” But he had, and now he knew what it was like to die. He felt like he'd already done it. He had nothing else to lose now.

“I'll be there tomorrow,” she said, wishing she could be there that night. But it didn't seem wise to do that again. After one night together, they both already felt as though they were still married and belonged together. And that would only complicate things for both of them. She had Brock, and he had to go away. There was no point dragging it out now.

But she still felt as though she belonged to Sam, as she talked to him, or stood next to him. All the old bonds had been re-formed in a single moment, and it wasn't fair to either of them. It would just make it harder for both of them when he left tomorrow. And he knew it too. He didn't ask her to come over. Making love to her again had reminded him of how much he loved her, and wanted to protect her. And leaving her now was going to be even more painful.

“I'll see you in court,” he said lightly, elegant to the end, Alex thought as she hung up, thinking about him again. And by the time Brock came by that night, they were all still very upset, even Carmen. Annabelle had cried herself to sleep, despite all of Alex's efforts to console her. And Alex didn't feel like eating dinner or talking.

“Christ, I'll be glad when this is over with,” Brock said tartly, and his tone annoyed her. It was like waiting for an execution and it seemed ghoulish to Alex.

“So will I. I don't think any of us are enjoying it, not even Sam,” Alex said curtly. Why couldn't he be more understanding? He had nothing to fear from Sam now.

“He's the one who created this mess,” Brock pointed out tersely, “let's not forget that.”

“I don't think that's entirely true. Aren't you overlooking the facts here?”

“Oh give it up, Alex. The guy's a crook, whether or not he's your husband.” He made her want to scream as she listened to him. He was so worried he was going to lose Alex to Sam, all he wanted was for the guy to go to jail as soon as possible. For Brock, it was the best news of the year, and there were times when she hated him for it.

Eventually, they argued for so long, that he decided not to spend the night with her again, but before he left, they got into another argument over her going to court with Sam the next morning.

“I want to be there when they sentence him,” she explained as though he were retarded.

“Is that like going to the guillotine with someone?” he said nastily, and he set her off again. But the real heart of it came up a few minutes later. “What if he doesn't go, Alex? Then what? Is he back in the picture?”

“Why do you hound me about this all the time? You're obsessed with him. What do I know what would happen?”

“You're still in love with him,” he accused.

“I'm in love with you,” she tried to reason with him, but he didn't want to hear it.

“But you're in love with him too, aren't you?”

“Brock, stop it!” she screamed, no longer caring if she woke Annabelle or Carmen. “I love you. You've been there for me when no one else was. If you got me through the last year. I would have died without you. Isn't that enough for you? Do you have to wipe out my whole past just to prove I love you? He's the father of my child. He's the man I married. He hurt me terribly. It's over. And he's going away now. That's the best I can do. I can't tell you what would happen if he stayed. But it doesn't matter anyway, he's not staying.”

“I can tell you what would happen if he did,” he said darkly, and she shook her head in despair. This was gruesome.

“You're destroying us while you're trying to destroy him. Stop, before you kill us, Brock. Please …don't do this.” She was crying then, for him, for herself, for Sam, for Annabelle, for all of them, all those who had suffered, even his sister.

“If he stays, I'm going back to Illinois.” It was the first she had heard of it, but she suddenly realized how tormented he must have been to make plans like that without her.

“Why?”

“Because I don't belong here. If you belong with him. I know that. No matter how lousy he's been, or how badly he's hurt you, you still belong to him. I know that in my gut.” He was crying as he said it to her, but she couldn't deny the truth of what he was saying. “If he goes, then you'd be alone anyway. You'd be free. But if he doesn't, I'm going home, Alex. I think I'm ready to go back now. I left because of my sister, but you helped me heal those wounds. I always felt responsible because she quit taking her chemo. I always felt I should have made her do it. I know now that I couldn't have changed anything. She did what she wanted.” He Sounded peaceful and more mature than she had ever heard him. It was hard growing up. It was always so damn painful.

“You saved my life, Brock.” She said it without reservation.

“You'd have done it anyway, because you're that kind of woman. You're not a quitter. That's why you still love him. You just won't give up, will you?” There was more truth to it than she'd ever realized, but Brock had made a difference in her chemo, and her survival. He had kept her at it.

“I think you made the difference,” she said, giving him the credit he deserved.

“That's nice to hear, but you never know.” He looked at her with a sad smile then, “I'll always love you, you know.”

“You make it sound like you're leaving, and not Sam,” she said with tears in her eyes, and he shrugged.

“Maybe I should anyway,” he said sadly. The last three months had taken a terrible toll on them. Oddly enough, it had been better between them when he was helping her get through chemo.

“Don't go, Brock. He doesn't have a chance of getting off now.” She was trying to reassure him, but it only saddened her more.

“Even if he goes, you'll always love him.”

“That's true,” she admitted, “I will. But he's the past, and you're the future. You have to decide if you can face that. If you can live with knowing that I loved him.” He nodded, but he didn't answer, and when he left the apartment, she had a strange feeling that he wasn't coming back, that he would never be able to accept the relationship she'd had with Sam, and the fact that she'd really loved him. He wanted her to hate him, but she didn't. He wanted her not to have a history with anyone, no bond to a man she still cared about so deeply. But life was never that simple. It never dealt the easy hands. The quick wins. There were always the difficult combinations, the tough choices, to deal with. But there were no choices for her now. Sam was going. And Brock would either grow up or he wouldn't. He would either live with her past or he'd leave her. She had a feeling, though, that in the long run, the ten years between them was a chasm beyond bridging, and that Brock knew it too. He seemed ready to go now. In a way, they had healed each other, and perhaps their time together was over. It was sad even thinking of that, but she had learned a lot in the past year about acceptance. And she knew that if she had to be, she could be alone now. But it was odd feeling that she was about to lose both of the men in her life. Maybe it was time for her to be on her own.

And as she lay in bed that night, she thought of Brock and all he'd done for her, but it was Sam she thought of constantly until morning, Sam who needed her thoughts and her strength now. Sam who seemed to be woven into her very soul, who seemed to be a part of her forever. And as she realized that, she felt strangely peaceful. There was no fighting it, he had become an unalterable part of her long since, and she had never even noticed.

She was up at six o'clock, and dressed in a black suit at seven. She didn't tell Annabelle where she was going, but Carmen knew. And Alex looked serious at breakfast and she left for the courthouse early so she would be there when Sam arrived. She wanted to be there for him.

The courthouse was already full when she got there, and she didn't want to crowd the counsel's table, although she could have. There was a huge row going on, because Simon Barrymore had fled the country the night before, and jumped bail, and the judge was in a furor. But once that was taken care of, and a warrant issued for Simon's arrest for jumping bail, the judge was prepared to deal with the others.

Once again, Larry and Tom went first. And each was sentenced to ten years in prison, with a million-dollar fine each. There was a gasp in the courtroom, and as usual, the reporters went wild and had to be reprimanded.

The judge was frantically pounding his gavel, and then he asked Sam to stand up. He looked very serious and very calm, and there was a stir in the courtroom. There had always been recognition that Sam's case was different from the others. He had maintained till the end that he hadn't known what they were doing, and due to the extenuating circumstances of his wife's illness, and his own stupidity, not to mention his affair with Daphne, he had been temporarily lulled into paying far too little attention to the practices of his partners. The jury had recognized the merit of that too, which was why they had cleared him of the embezzlement charges, but the charges of fraud had stood and he had been found guilty.

The judge looked at him long and hard. And then with a slow, deliberate voice he spoke Sam's sentence. “Samuel Livingston Parker, I hereby sentence you to a fine, paid out of your personal funds, of five hundred thousand dollars, and ten years in prison.” The crowd roared, and every photographer in the place pressed toward him, as the judge shouted and continued to rap his gavel. Sam closed his eyes, but only for a split second, and Alex felt so nauseous suddenly it almost felt like chemo. “Ten years in prison,” he repeated, glaring at the crowd and then at Sam, for silence, “with your sentence to be reduced as of this date to ten years probation, and the court recommends that you find some other line of work, Mr. Parker. Dog-catching, if you like, but stay out of the venture capital business, and stay off Wall Street.” Sam stood staring at the judge, as did everyone in the courtroom. For an instant there was silence. Ten years probation. He was free, or as good as. Alex couldn't believe it.

And then pandemonium broke loose in the courtroom.

The lawyers were all shaking hands as Larry and Tom were led away, and Sam stood looking dazed while court was adjourned and photographers from every paper in the country took his picture. Alex couldn't even get to him for the next twenty minutes, and she just stood staring at him in amazement. Phillip Smith had done an incredible job, but so had the judge, and the probation office itself had recommended for probation. They had concluded that Sam was a fool, but not a criminal, and no real purpose would be served by sending him to prison. And as she thought of it, she remembered the five-hundred-thousand-dollar check she had refused to take from him two days before. He was going to find it very useful.