Commitments (10 page)

head shot around. One of the guards had taken off after a prisoner who'd left in a fury. ' wasthat about?' Sabrina whispered, shaken. Derek, too, was shaken. He thought he was used to the sudden spurts of violence, but he was wrong. Vho knows/he muttered, then cleared his throat and forced a look around. ', want to sit down?' She nodded. He led the way, to a pair of chairs, let her choose one and sit before following suit. This time he sat closer, facing her with his chair turned only enough to allow for leg room. And Sabrina didn't mind. She wanted the closeness. Derek was her buffer from the prison's darkest sides. @Are you okay?' he asked, searching her face for the kind of momentary panic that he knew from experience could hit when the prison air closed in. '-huh.' ' look tired.' ''m always tired.' He gave her a very slow, very thorough once-over in an attempt to lighten the mood. ' you do look springlike.' The once-over had been nice - not lecherous or suggestive but cognizant of her femininity. It wasn't often nowadays that Sabrina felt feminine. A shrew wasn't feminine. Nor was a diaper changer or a strained-beef feeder or a mini-limb exerciser. She liked feeling feminine. It relaxed her. It brought a flush to her cheeks and made her feel a little less tired and, yes, even a little springlike. She plucked at her sweater. It was a cotton knit, white with splashes of pale blue and peach, and it fen low over a long, peach skirt. ' time my sweater was mohair, and I thought I'd melt. This Page 34

Barbara Delinsky - Commitments

one's cooler.' 99 She tucked in her chin and studied the sweater. '

March I'm sick of winter. I need a pick-me-up. A new sweater does the trick every time., She cleared her throat. ''s another of my faults.

"What is? Suying.' ' like to spend?' She raised her eyes to his and announced, ', not spend. Buy.' ' buying requires spending.' '

the spending is incidental to the buyin& which is the part I enjoy. When I get upset, I buy. It's not boredom, because God knows I have enough to do when I'm free without running over to Third Avenue. And it's not to spite Nicholas, because I support the habit myself. And it's not because I need anything ...' She didn't have to finish. ' pamper myself, I guess. I keep looking for a deep psychological meanin& but I can't find one. When I get upset, I buy.' Derek was thinking that if Nicholas Stone pampered her, she wouldn't have to pamper herself. He was thinking, that Nicholas Stone was a fool, but it wasn't a new thought. ' do you buy?' '.' He waited for her to go on, arched both brows, even opened a palm in invitation. When she said nothing more, he coaxed,

"That's all? just sweaters? ''s enough.' ' quite a collection, do you?' ''ve been upset a lot, lately.' He studied the sweater from hem to collar, making careful note of the curves along the way. '/

he murmured, then quickly raised his eyes. ' sweater ... it's perky., And you're right about March. Manhattan always was pretty dreary this time of year.' 100 ' -hasn't changed.' She paused, took a breath. '

-bout it much? ot when I can help it.' ' time, you mentioned reading the paper ... No/ e corrected herself, ' said you'd seen recent es of my husband, so I assumed you read the paper.' , do., ' that bother you?' ' rubbing salt on the wound?' She nodded. , bothers me, but it serves a purpose. Prison life is totally regulated. It's monotonous and boring. It's marking time, going nowhere, doing nothing.' He stopped speaking. His. eyes clouded. Sabrina could see him begin to turn off his thoughts and tune out the world. But she didn't want him to do that. '

on/ she coaxed. He held, her with a blank stare, for the space of several breaths, before chasing off the cloudiness and resuming. '

are days when I feel like I'm suspended in time, like my mind is on hold. Reading the paper helps. It's frustrating to see the rest of the world pass me by, but at least I won't be emerging from a total vacuum when I'm released.' Vhen will that be? Three to seven isn't really three to seven, is it?' ''ll be up for parole after serving two-thirds of the mimmum.1 ''s two years. Do they credit you with the time you spent awaiting trial?' ' right.' ' you could be out in eight months."

"Seven and a half.' ' think about it a lot/ she said unnecessarily. 101 I think about it a lot.' She let her own mind wander seven and a half months ahead and couldn't imagine what her life would ' like then. She couldn't go on as she was now; she knew that. There was Nicky and Nick and the matter of her own identity ... loose pieces that didn't fit into the puzzle, and until they did, she could only plod on. Vhat do you want to do when you get out?, she asked, then sat helplessly by while his features hardened. The hardening took nothing from his handsomeness, but it distanced him from her. ' I want to do is very different from what I will do., ' with what you want.' ' want to go back to doing what I did before., ' Insight was canceled." Abruptly he grinned, that same heart-stopping, halfmischievous grin that brought a dimplelike slash to his cheek, and this time she felt it full force. ''t that greatv he asked. It was a minute before she could rebound enough to gather her wits. She was a yo-yo and Derek held the string; he tossed her away, then brought her close, tossed her away, brought her close. He set her off balance, but she didn't mind as long as he flashed that grin from time to time. Tm, uh, is it ... great? If it's been canceled,'it isn't there for you to go back to.' His grin persisted. ' do you know why it was canceled?' His self-satisfaction was a dead giveaway. She said, '/ and gave a sage nod. ' ratings plummeted/ he went on, savoring the explanation, however superfluous. Page 35

Barbara Delinsky - Commitments

"Mind you, I didn't 102 t gobs of supporting mail when I was on trial, but after I was gone, something must have been missing from the show." The grin faded. His voice dropped, and though his words were innocent enough, his tone had an edge. ' stole hot shots from other shows, but it made no difference. The mix wasn't right anymore. It was poetic justice.' ' do you mean?' He shrugged. ' was working on a story for the show when the shit hit the fan. It's kind of nice to know I wasn't the only one soiled.' ' personal revenge?' He looked off, pushed out his lips in contemplative hion, wanted to say, ' yet, baby, not yet, I but '&'t. Particularly in its planning stages, revenge was private and very, vezy personal. Sabrina saw the look in his eye and wanted to get away from the topic of revenge as quickly as possible. It was dangerous and ugly and frightening. ' what you meant/ she said, '

that you want to return to investigative reporting.' ''s right."

"And the discrepancy between want and will?' '.' it took her a minute to follow, and when she did she was skeptical. ' one will hire you? I don't believe that, You have the talent. You have the name. You obviously have the following, if what happened to Outside Insight accounts for anything. Fame, notoriety - both work in the field of entertainment.' ' killed a man, Sabrina/he said tightly. She didn't blink. ' know.' ' may not bother you, but it sure as hell may bother Ms. and Mr. Middle America out there.' 103 q was under the impression that your audience was a little more savvy than the average.' ', not all; and besides, before I get to the audience, I have to pass through the producers and the network. If they think that potential sponsors will shy away from a murderer, I'm sunk.' ' you acted in self-defense.' q was convicted.'He could feel the agitation growing, as it always did, at the injustice of it. The day-to-day hell of prison We was controllable through carefully constructed defenses and mind-numbing techniques; the mental anguish wasn't. The agony held felt when the jury's verdict had been returned had long since become a visceral thing. Frustration spread through every muscle in his body like a noxious gas, making him wire-tight and clammy. if held been in his cell, he'd have dropped to the floor and done push-ups to oblivion. Now, though, all he could do was to tap his foot, clench his jaw and say, ' was found guilty.' '

jury doesn't have the final say. Not in this day and age./ ', I'm doing time! How much more final a say - I '!' came a sharp bark from one of the nearby guards. Derek whipped his head around in time to see the guard arch a brow and aim a rigid thumb toward the door. ''s cool, I he said, holding up both hands. ''m cool.' With carefully measured movements that belied the pounding in his chest, he turned back to Sabrina. She was staring at his neck. Her fingers flexed, then left her lap. Derek was caught in a crossfire. He wanted her touch. He wanted, no, needed, no, was desperate for something soft and warm and caring. But he was . 104 "--,1tpmted His skin was infused with prison air and prison grime, and if she touched him, she'd feel it and be repulsed. indecision held him immobile for seconds too long or perhaps it wasn't indecision at all, but the reverse. Held be touched. He'd see what she felt. Feather-light, her fingers probed the ridged scar. This is new/ she said with unnatural calm. Vhat happened?' Her fingers remained on his skin. Not repulsion. Oh God. in the space of a blink, he tuned out the guard and his threat, the jury and its verdict, the future and _its haze. He concentrated on those small spots of heat where Sabrina's fingers gently touched his skin. Re didn't want to move, didn't want to rock the -boat, scare her away, unintentionally dislodge her fingers, lose her touch for any reason. Breathing as shallowly as possible, he said, ' was cut.' She gave him a do-tell look, then whispered, '?' "A razor.' ' you're going to tell me you were shaving '/ he murmured back, still barely moving, barely breathing, ' of the other guys was shaving. Two of them started to fight. I got in the middle.' The words echoed in his mind, reverberating Page 36

Barbara Delinsky - Commitments

in and around other words spoken years before and worlds away. He was ten. He was trying to worm his way out of a beating. His mother had him by the scruff of the neck and was shaking him ... But it wasn't his mother's hand on his neck. It was Sabrina's, and the only shaking going on was something akin to a tremor deep in his belly. She moved her palm to cover the scar, letting her fingers curve gently around the back of his neck. His muscles were drawn tight, but his skin was warm. Her 105

forefinger tangled readily with the hair that fell over his nape. ' it had been a little more to the front - 11 know, I he bit off. Vhy can't they protect you?' ' can't be everywhere at once. They can't see everything. Anyway, it was my fault. If I'd kept to myself - ' ' this one?' she asked in the same whisper. She splayed her fingers so that her thumb grazed the scar by his eye. He swallowed hard. ' small price for preserving my chastity.' ' God.' Her eyes enlarged, filled with the same kind of horrible images he still saw too often himself. He hadn't wanted to taint her, but he was doing it. Her hands wouldn't show the stain, but it would linger in her mind like black ink spattered on fine white silk. Forgetting everything but the need to undo the damage, he covered her hand, pressed it to his neck. ''s okay, Sabrina. It's okay. A scar isn't so bad.' ' you could have been - ' ' wasn't.' He smiled crookedly. ' into a humdinger of a fight, though. You should've seen the other guys when I was done.' ' plural?' She choked out another, ' God/ more high-pitched this time. ', it's okay. I got all of them - a punch here, a kick there. Bam, wop, splat I was a regular Batman and Robin rolled into one.' Her whisper jumped an octave. ' can you joke about it?' ''s either that or go crazy.' He lowered her hand, but he wasn't letting go. Instead, he propped his elbows on his thighs and held her hand between his knees. He liked the feel of her skin, which was smooth, and the 106 1 '40 her bones, which were delicate, and the feel of '1W fingernails, which were neatly trimmed, wore a Wat of clear polish and looked eminently feminine. ' did it happen?' she asked. ' long time ago.' She tightened her fingers around his. '?' Miree weeks after the trial."

"You were in another prison then.' He nodded. ' security. Ironic, isn't it?' ''s disgusting! I she said in an angry whisper, then

,:forced herself to take a calming breath. ' don't under-why you were there in the first place.' . -'Classification. It's routine.' Her gaze fell to where their hands were joined. His ,,fingers were as long and strong as the rest of him, and they-retamied. a gentleness while his voice had grown )iarder. ' happens during classification?' He slid his thumb up and down her forefinger and found a small, lightly scabbed nick. ' cut?' WO, I misjudged a diaper pin. What does classification entail?' The scab was a point of reference on her hand; he Itraced it again, then again. ' tests, psychological evaluation, medical workup, analysis of the record - crime, sentence, criminal history, aptitude for violence. They decide where to send you based on the results.' ' you were transferred after that. Was it very different there from here?' ' some ways.' When he didn't go on, she squeezed his fingers. fwhat ways? I ' don't want to hear.' ' you don't tell me, I'll imagine.' 107 He stared stonily at the faint pencil pad on her middle finger. ' really don't want to hear.' ''ll imagine the worst.' Vhy should you imagine anything?' he asked. ' have enough grief of your own. You don't need mine.' ''m tired of my grief. Give me a diversion.' He grew very still. His eyes were focused on the meeting of their hands. His hair tumbled over his forehead. The wind kiss on his cheeks had long since faded, leaving the shadow of his beard darker than ever against his prison pallor. Though he'd argued that she didn't want to hear, there was more. He didn't know if he wanted to tell her about what it had been like in maximum. Prison was little more than an animal cage, and he was one of the animals. It was degrading. He ran his thumb over the ridge of her knuckles, then slowly dropped her hand, straightened and said the only thing he could think of to avoid the discussion she wanted. ' don't think I like being Page 37

Barbara Delinsky - Commitments

a diversion.' Sabrina's hand felt naked. She buried it in her lap, curling her fingers under the low ribbing of her sweater. ' few minutes ago, you told me that you asked me to come because my being here would get you out of work. Did I get offended? '.' ', you have no right to get offended now.' ' take whatever rights I can get, because there aren't a helluva lot that come my way.' ''ll rephrase that, then. You shouldn't have been offended, because I didn't mean it derogatorily. A diversion can be good and positive. I meant it that way. You give me something else to think about.' Taken in its broadest sense, the statement was 108 Derek's eyes reflected the revelation, but he ' sn" d noth sabrina wondered if she'd overstepped her bounds. ' knew that she was being a little foolish, a little shortsighted and more than a little unfair to Derek. To --cover up her faults, she raced on with perhaps a little pore spirit than she normally would have. ', my whole world revolves around Nicky. I've become a very boring, one-dimensional character. You're not the .,only one who feels penned in, you know. Maybe it's a matter of misery liking company.' I ' pen has doors. You can walk out anytime you want.' ' like a man who has never been a mother.' He had no proper retort for that and could only offer a begrudging, '.' ' it's also true that you relax more when I talk about Nicky. I've seen it, Derek. Six weeks ago ... today .