“She offered me your money, Lassiter.”
“And you didn’t take it? Just for that reason?”
“Fuck you. I don’t need your money. You can’t buy me.”
“You know, I didn’t buy Joelle either. She said the same words to me on about a dozen occasions.”
“So?”
“So. Thought it might make you feel better. My money was nothing to her. To us.”
“What are you saying? You want me to do this? Take your money? Hang out with your sister? That’s something you want?”
“No. But she won’t listen to me. I control two things in this world, Rob: my company and my money. I don’t control my sisters. I can’t stop her.”
“Your wife agreed to this?”
Nick nodded. “So what do you want me to do? Forbid her? Yeah, that’d get me a week on the couch. No, thanks. Joelle likes you. She forgives you for everything, and always wants me to do the same, which I say fuck no to. But there it is.”
Rob stared in surprise. He was sure Lassiter could persuade his wife and sister to stop and this would be over. He eyed Nick. “I could fuck her, you know, just to get back at you.”
Nick bristled just as Rob intended. Then he shook his head and laughed. “Good luck with that. Really, you don’t know my sister. Look, I don’t like you. But Joelle does, and she’d never let you near one of my sisters if she thought you’d do that. Rebecca’s been through some stuff lately, so please, don’t fuck with her, Rob. I mean it. I won’t interfere on her books, or her ideas; any of that is her business. But you mess with her, Rob, and I’ll fucking bury you. And don’t, not even for a moment, think that I can’t do it.”
“What more could you do to me?”
Nick shook his head. “This about Joelle? I don’t believe you. Not anymore. You’re over her. I saw you at the wedding. You don’t want her anymore. You want to sing. You want to resurrect Zenith. You might even want another marriage. But you don’t want her anymore.”
“Don’t tell me what I want, Lassiter! What I really don’t want is your sister, writing about me.”
“Agreed. I agree. But again… what do you expect me to do?”
He frowned at Nick and finally fell into a chair. “I had no idea you were such a pansy with women.”
He leaned forward. “You’re here asking me to save you from my sister and your ex-wife. And you think I’m the only pansy when it comes to them?”
Rob didn’t like that. Maybe he had it coming by running there to get Nick to stop them. He sat up straighter. “If you don’t do something, I’ll tell her that her writing sucks and I don’t trust her to write about me.”
Nick lifted up an eyebrow. “But you don’t think that?”
“No. But I’ll do it anyway.”
“She doesn’t deserve that.”
“Not my problem.”
Nick nodded. “No. It’s not. I’ll talk to her.”
Rob let out a breath and nodded. “Good. That’s all I wanted.”
“You could have just called me.”
“You wouldn’t have taken my call.”
“Probably right about that.”
Rob got up and Nick stood up too before coming around his desk. He stopped and asked Rob, “You ever wonder why we can’t ever get away from each other, no matter how hard we try?”
He nodded. “Between Spencer, Erica, and Joelle’s friendship, it seems like we can’t, or won’t.”
The door swung open suddenly and Joelle came in. “What’s going on? Bev called me and said some angry-looking guy with lots of tattoos came barging in. Figured it had to be you, Rob.” Joelle looked from her ex to her current husband.
“You still work here?” Rob asked, surprised. He assumed that after marrying a guy with millions, she would have quit long ago.
“Yes. I still work here. Part-time,” Joelle said, her tone annoyed. “What’s going on?”
“Something about a book my sister wants to write. Know anything about that, Joelle?”
Joelle leveled a gaze at Nick. “Don’t use that Nick Lassiter, Ruler of the Empire-voice on me. Sure, I know. Rebecca wanted Rob’s address. She came to me, and for once, was actually nice.”
“Yeah, she only used you to get to me,” Rob added.
“She admitted that without any hesitation. But I think it was more than that. She seemed to take another look at me… finally.”
Rob didn’t know this Joelle. When she was married to him, Joelle was quiet, contained, and almost silent around him. She never would have talked to him in such an annoyed tone. She never shared how she felt with Rob, not when she was angry, or annoyed or anything. And that was half the problem with them, which existed long before his drinking became the issue. Joelle could never feel comfortable being herself with him. Not like she did with Nick Lassiter. They, Rob and Joelle, were so young when they got married, she at nineteen, and he at twenty-three. They jumped right into it, fast and furious, and perhaps skipped a few essential steps, like first creating an honest, open companionship based on trust. He loved Joelle, but never took the time to listen to her.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Nick asked Joelle.
“Because it has nothing to do with us. You’d probably tell Rebecca not to do it. But that isn’t your choice. It’s between them, Rob and Rebecca.”
“And I’ve been pretty clear to her that I don’t want to do it.”
Joelle turned towards him. She still wore the lip ring they got together when she was twenty and he was twenty-five. She had the tattoo on her arm that matched his, however, removed. The one that was their wedding gift to each another: a long script of their initials. He still kept his and chose not to remove anything, since all of it symbolized a part of him, no matter how painful. “Why not, Rob? I think it would be good for you. It would let you put it all to rest. You’re still moping around, afraid to do anything important. Afraid of becoming the monster again. Maybe letting it go would free you up to start over completely.”
“You don’t get to comment on my life anymore, Joelle Lassiter,” Rob said snidely.
“Why do you want to comment on him? Why do you still care?” Nick asked from behind Joelle.
“Oh, for God sake! Both of you, grow up! Did you know my best friend, Erica Mattox, used to have sex with Nick before I met him? And I used to with you, Rob, before I met Nick. Erica and I are still best friends despite all that. Why can’t you two get over it? You know why I care, Nick Lassiter, and you also know that you have no reason to ever be threatened by it!”
Get over it. Rob knew there was a lot he should get over, and a lot more he had to be sorry about. And that’s what kept him so frozen, so paralyzed in life. At least, he wasn’t hurting anyone and that counted a lot to him. He was terrified of reliving his past mistakes. How could Joelle, his most precious victim, tell him to just get over it?
Nick didn’t look any happier with Joelle than Rob did. But Rob knew that he and Nick would never get past it or be able to tolerate each other. That was about the only thing they could agree on.
“Because we’re not you and Erica,” Nick said, his voice tightly controlled.
“Well, because of me and Erica, now Erica Mattox, you two will have to learn to tolerate each other since you do occupy the same planet.”
Rob looked from one Lassiter to the other. “Not going to happen. Look, just get your sister off my back, and we’ll leave it at that.”
Turning on his heel, Rob ignored the large, panoramic views of Nick’s office. He couldn’t wait to get out of the place that clearly, and rather harshly, showed what a success, class act, and a powerhouse Nick Lassiter was; while he, a lowly, construction worker, and manual laborer, wearing sweat-stained, sawdust-sprinkled clothes, was nothing.
Rob stopped before the desk where Bev, the assistant, stood glaring at him.
“Sorry about barging past you.” Rob stuck out a hand. “I’m Rob Williams.”
“Ah. As in Joelle Williams.”
“Yeah.
As in.”
“Well, next time, please stop.”
“There won’t be a next time, Bev, the assistant. Just wanted to say sorry. Sometimes, I forget my manners. Bad temper, especially around Nick Lassiter. Although I’m trying, albeit sometimes in vain, to stop.”
Bev nodded. “Yes, I see. Layers of history there.”
Rob nodded. “Yeah, multiple layers.”
Rob exited the office, the building, and the empire now belonging to his ex-wife. He made his way through Downtown Seattle. It was already evening and the setting sun’s rays streaked over the waters of Elliot Bay, reflecting off the windows of high-rise offices and condos that occupied the hill over the wharf. Rob started walking aimlessly with nowhere to go and plenty of time to get there.
He walked past the Seattle Aquarium, then along the docks, up the hills, finally joining the crowds at Pike Place market. The strong smell of fish filled his nostrils as various trinkets and flowers caught his eye. He wandered through the crowds; then to a park that was small and grassy, where homeless people milled about, resting in the rare warmth of the dying day. Finally, he was looking over a concrete ledge, where he observed the cars on I-5 as they zipped by. He raised his eyes past the city, looking beyond and towards the water and sky, while listening to the city noise all around him.
He had no reason to leave. No one to go home to. Nothing to do. He looked around. Thought. Walked. What might his life have been? What could it have been if he never allowed alcohol to touch his lips? Why did he become an alcoholic? How could Spencer drink and party right alongside him, but stop the moment he wanted to without craving it? Rob couldn’t. He could never stop himself. Nor could he stop destroying himself, Spencer, Joelle, and his entire life.
Why? Because he was an alcoholic.
Rob kicked a loose pebble on the sidewalk in frustration. He blamed Rebecca Randall for his current bout of self-hatred. Like he didn’t experience it often enough already. Or think about it enough. And now Rebecca managed to put it all sharply back into focus, begging him to confront his past, and encounter, once again, Nick and Joelle Lassiter.
This had become his life now. Post-Zenith.
Zenith was Rob’s dream. His creation. After Spencer and he found a following right on these very streets, and the wharf filled with tourists, they realized they were really good. Together. And once they could afford a place to live, it was as natural as breathing for them to start a band. Zenith. The highest point in the sky, as high as their dreams. Why not?
They were twenty and sixteen. Why not? Why couldn’t they reach for the sky? They started practicing seriously. They met Mitch and Kenny, a guitarist and drummer respectively. They were a band. And a good one too, which was mostly because of Rob’s incredible voice.
His voice was the only valuable thing he ever had. He failed in every way as a human being, both as a child, and an adult, but he could sing like nobody else. He was always the soloist in the school choir. It was the only class he attended regularly, despite the ribbing he got from the rebellious friends he always attracted. Friends who were like him: lacking in parental supervision, as well as parental love. That, of course, gave them all a good reason to pretend they didn’t give a shit about anything. They prowled around their Edmonds neighborhoods, looking for trouble, spraying graffiti, trespassing, vandalizing, smashing mailboxes, and racing too fast on the back roads. It was just a big show, devised to make them appear like they didn’t give a damn, when actually, the pain of caring too much and being hurt too often was the real reason for acting out.
As a teen, there was no one that Rob especially cared about, and no one he felt loyal to. But one day, he came across Spencer Mattox in the woods. Spencer had just been raped by his older, much bigger stepbrother. Rob pulled a knife on Barry, the attacker, just to protect Spencer, who was then thirteen years old. From that day on, Spencer shadowed him like a lost puppy. Everywhere Rob went, Spencer followed. They were an odd team, but became inseparable ever since. When Spencer asked Rob to run away with him to escape Barry’s incessant assaults, there were no adults who cared for or offered to help them, so they disappeared together.
On the streets, they fully expected a life much worse than their own homes. Statistics claimed they would end up as drug dealers, junkies, or wind up in jail. But instead, life for them actually improved. It was never easy, but it got much better.
After running away, there was no drunken father to beat Rob. And the pain he regularly endured by watching his mother getting beaten also vanished. There was no one to disappoint or be disappointed in. There was just Spencer. And Spencer and he remained loyal to each other. It was that simple, easy, and guileless; and managed to last for all those years.
However, Spencer finally found someone else. That’s where all this was coming from. All of his pointless self-doubt, increased loneliness, and virtual unhappiness with living. He and Spencer were together almost fifteen years. And now he was alone again. It was time, of course. And as it should be. But he still missed Spencer.
And now someone wanted to write a book about all that? What point could there possibly be? It could only magnify the volume of his mistakes, screw-ups, and history of doing everything possible to prove his father was right: he would never amount to anything. He might have been able to sing, but as his father often said, so what? What could it ever do for him? Nothing. Because you had to first be something in order to do something.
Chapter Five
“You didn’t think it sucked?”
Rob paused before opening his front door. The voice struck him, without even glancing outside to see who stood there. Rebecca, of course. He jerked the door open the rest of the way and stared with visible irritation at the red-headed, persistent woman who obviously didn’t understand the meaning of the word no. Rebecca was dressed similar to the other day, except with a different top. Her hair was swept back and stray curls were bouncing around her forehead.
“Don’t you have a passel of kids to tend to?”
“They’re with my mother.”
“So you thought you’d come here and bug me?”
“You told me you didn’t read it.”
“I didn’t want to tell you that it sucked.”
“That’s not what you told Nick. You did read it. You liked it.”
Rob sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Nick talked to you? So you should listen to what he tells you.”
“I did listen. I listened that you read it and thought it was well written. You liked it.”
“So I like lots of things; it doesn’t mean I want them singing, writing or even mentioning me.”
“Don’t you owe Spencer some money for when he helped you with rehab? You know, I could pay you enough to get you out of debt.”
Rob’s eyes widened as his hand tightened on the door. “How the hell do you know that? You have balls, sweetheart, I’ll give you that. Bringing that up!”
Rebecca flushed, but retained his gaze. “I heard Joelle talking to Nick a few months ago. That’s when I first thought of you as my subject. I was brainstorming for my second book. And after I heard that, I thought, I could pay you, even make you come out ahead, and get a great story for my project.”
“The debt I owed Spencer for rehab is already paid,” Rob said while glaring at her. “But I still owe Spencer money for helping me pay off the local drug dealer for me. Did you know that too, Mrs. Know-It-All?”
Rebecca looked away. “No.”
He gripped the door tightly with his fingers. “Did you also know that it was the same drug dealer, who broke into my house and found Joelle and beat her up? Did you know that part? Or that I came home, high as a kite that night, and do you know what I did to my injured wife, do you, little mommy? I pinned my wounded wife to the wall and demanded to know why she gave our money to him. After that, she ran away from this house, all beaten up, straight to your brother. And do you know the saddest part of this story, Nick’s-sister? I was too wasted to even notice she left! I p
assed out. Until, low and behold, your brother showed up here the next day, and pinned me against this very same wall, and almost choked me to death. So you see, sweetheart, you really don’t have a fucking clue about anything. About me. Or about what I’ve done or who I used to be. You don’t even really know why your brother hates me so much. And you know what, little sis? Nick is justified in hating me as much as he does. Did you ever wonder why he nearly has convulsions whenever I’m near his wife? It’s because I hurt her. Bad. For a number of years. Do you think I want you to write about that? And make me sound… what? Noble? For sobering up? You’re years too late to do anyone any good, especially me. So get off my porch, get out of my face, and stay out of my life, and please do it now.”
Rob slammed the door in Rebecca’s face. He was breathing hard and couldn’t stop clenching and unclenching his fists. His stomach roiled with acid when he thought about his own life. With disgust. He hadn’t thought about his spiraling failures for years. Not to the full extent. Not so honestly. And now he felt shaken. For admitting the truth of who and what he was.
He shut his eyes and slumped against the door. His hands shook involuntarily. A drink would have been perfect right now. It would soothe his guilt, calm his nerves, and change his life. He wouldn’t have to think about or feel his pain. It would all simply go away. His mouth watered at the thought of it. It would calm the churning in his guts, the edginess in his nerves, and let him temporarily forget the self hatred. It would—
Someone knocked. Rob stood up straight. Unfucking believable! She was knocking again! She was what? Still going to bother him? Even after that? Seriously, what the hell was wrong with her?
He jerked open the door. “What will it take for you to leave me alone?”
“I knew about all that, Mr. Williams. Joelle already told me.”
He laughed bitterly. “Oh, well, if Joelle told you, then you came prepared, your homework’s done. Good, little girl that you are.”
“You’re missing my point.”
Zenith Fulfilled (Zenith Trilogy, #3) Page 6