Zenith Rising (Zenith Trilogy, #2)

by Leanne Davis

  Erica let a long breath out. “I’m just… I’m so tired. All that I wanted is for Spencer to love me back. Now I don’t think I’m strong enough to survive whatever it takes to get past his impenetrable armor. I just don’t think I have it in me.”

  “Bullshit. You’re running scared now. You’re mad at him, and justifiably so, but you’re stronger than anyone I know! You’re just scared of not knowing the outcome and being able to control what happens, like you do with everything else.”

  “I’m afraid it takes more than just loving someone to make him want you. To make him even capable of returning the emotion. Maybe he’s just not emotionally capable.”

  “Oh, Erica. That’s not true! And you, me, Nick and Rob are the only human beings on this earth who actually know. Don’t discount that. His history. His pain. Don’t discount him like everyone else does.”

  Erica looked away. “You’re asking too much of me.”

  “No, someone’s finally asking you for something and you know you have it and you can’t just dump him without another thought. Because this time, you love him back. Talk to him, Erica, before you decide what really happened with your little sister.”

  Erica frowned as she gulped down the rest of her wine. “I thought you’d cuss him out, and hold my hand.”

  Joelle came over and gave Erica’s hand with a squeeze. “Maybe you can see now why I ran back to Rob before finally committing to Nick. It’s scary. Putting yourself out there, when it’s so real, and you feel like you’ll die if it doesn’t work out. That ring a bell?”

  “Yes,” Erica said quietly.

  “Yeah. Just what I thought. Give him a chance. For yourself more than anyone else. Not every man will cheat on you.”

  “When the hell did you become the stable one?”

  “About the time you finally fell in love. It makes you crazy, doesn’t it?”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Erica kept mentally ordering herself to call Spencer. Just pick up the phone and call him. But she didn’t. She couldn’t force herself to do it. She kept finding little distractions, and telling herself she’d call later. She tried to ignore the anger that simmered inside her, causing her to wonder why she always had to be the calm one? The sane one? Spencer, as always, assumed the worst of her when he saw his mother. Why couldn’t he seek her out? And for once, act like the adult? Just once, why couldn’t he ask her why his biological mother, whom he hadn’t seen in thirteen years, was sitting in her office?

  Spencer wasn’t at work, but Erica was. Spencer didn’t call her; and Erica didn’t call him. She was tired by now. So tired, she couldn’t find the motivation to fix it anymore. Why did she have to fix everything? Maybe she didn’t want to play that role every single time, with every single problem that arose between them.

  Why couldn’t Spencer just come to work? Or better yet, her condo? Or simply pick up the phone? He owed it to her, this time. Not only for having her sister at his house, but also for assuming Erica would go behind his back and contact his mother. Why couldn’t he be the mature one for once?

  She knew deep down it wouldn’t happen. She’d have to call him eventually. She’d have to fix it again. He’d avoid her, and run away, and ignore her, while pretending he didn’t care. He would convince himself this was the way it was always destined to be for them.

  Thoughts swirled around her head as she shook her purse around, listening for the jingling of her keys. Finally, she heard them. Digging into her big, messy purse, she had to pull out her wallet, and other miscellaneous items before she found her keys at the bottom. Scraping the black, silk lining of her purse, she finally managed to grab them. She cursed at herself, her wallet in her mouth, and dropped half the items in her left hand. Sighing, she bent over to start picking everything up. She was in the parking lot at work. It was dark, and she worked late again, trying to keep her personal life and wandering thoughts at bay.

  She muttered to herself how Spencer would have had a fit if he could see her right now, crawling on the pavement in the dark, utterly disorganized, her phone turned off, and in fact, scattered with her other things over the pavement and under her car. Spencer would have scolded her by saying she should have had her keys out in her hand before she stepped away from the illuminated lobby area. Or better yet, she should have left during the daylight hours, when there were still other people and cars nearby. As it was now, she was alone, her car standing solitary in the lot. She didn’t care, and was probably doing it for revenge, or as some kind of “screw you” to Spencer. But suddenly, now, with her stuff spilled everywhere, she felt a chill. She knew she shouldn’t have been so careless. And to never assume that she was fine, especially when she was alone. She vowed not to be so stupid or careless again with herself.

  Just at that moment of epiphany, she felt cold steel on her neck, as two arms came around her from behind, pulling her up and back. Erica’s garbled brain tried to catch up before a rush of fear slammed through her. She pulled on the arm around her neck, now holding a knife to her throat. Tears filled her eyes and she pressed her lips shut. She could not scream. The knife was too close for that. Too real.

  “Say a word and I’ll slice you wide open.”

  She jerked her head in a small nod.

  “Get into your car. Driver seat. Now.”

  She did as she was told, her body shaking and trembling.

  The back door opened, and the masked stranger got in. She didn’t turn her head, but tried to strain her eyes to see who was attacking her with her peripheral vision. She could only see black. A black mask, just like last time, just like in the stairwell.

  “Both hands on the steering wheel.”

  She obeyed his command, tears falling uselessly over her face. She couldn’t help how scared and cold she felt, almost a feverish feeling. Dizzy. She was sick with fear.

  Her purse, wallet, and money all lay on the pavement beneath her car. The man didn’t want any of that obviously. So what did he want? That’s what really made her so scared, she trembled with the looming terror.

  “Drive.”

  She couldn’t. The voice commanded, but she was shaking so badly, she didn’t know how to make her body move. Or follow simple instructions. She was gripping the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles were white and drained of color.

  “I said drive, bitch.” The knife came back towards her head. Erica suddenly became galvanized, and slammed her car into reverse. Then, backing up with a screech groaning from her tires, she nearly rocketed out of the parking lot.

  “Turn left.”

  She did. She followed each cryptic direction from the assailant. Her stomach turned as soon as she realized where she was being ordered to drive. They were within a mile of Spencer and Rob’s house.

  “That’s right. Your boyfriend’s house. Stop right across from it.”

  She was shaking, with her guts churning and twisting. She thought she might be sick. She could taste the metallic flavor of fear coating her tongue. This attack was personal. The attacker knew Spencer was her boyfriend and even where he lived. This was eerily personal. For reasons she could not fathom, someone really had it in for her.

  “Stop here.” She pulled over next to a sidewalk several houses before Spencer’s. There were lights on inside, and a silhouette of a person crossed in front of the closed drapes. Her heart twisted, wanting to fling the door open and run across the road into Spencer’s house. She wanted Spencer so badly it physically tormented her.

  The man said nothing more as they sat there, in the dark, just looking at the house. At least, she assumed the attacker was looking since she couldn’t see him. She could feel him, and each casual move of his wrist, as the knife hung near her head, his arm resting alongside her headrest. What did he want? What? She felt like screaming at him. Get on with it. Whatever it was. This slow waiting was like torture.

  “You don’t have a clue who I am, do you?”

  “No.”

  “Funny, how someone can ruin you
r life, without ever even knowing you.”

  What the hell? How did she ruin anyone’s life? What had she done to anyone? What did Spencer have to do with any of this?

  “I’ve been watching you two. Seeing you two always together and happy, while the people you’ve destroyed and ruined, are right in front of you. And you don’t notice, do you? It never bothers you, does it, Dr. Heathersby? What you destroy? The people you destroy?”

  “Who are you?” Erica started to turn to look.

  “Keep your head facing forward,” the man snapped.

  “Why are we here? What does Spencer have to do with anything?”

  “Everything. He has everything to do with it. You stole my life and I should steal yours. You wanna watch as I knock on his door and shoot him in the face when he answers it?”

  Chills of terror crept up her back and into her scalp as goose bumps broke out on her skin. Oh God, no, this couldn’t be happening. He intended to shoot Spencer right in front of her? But why? Why?

  Erica licked her dry, cracked lips. “No, I don’t want to watch you kill my boyfriend.”

  The man laughed with a weird cackle. “I could always rape you instead. That’s always a fitting punishment for a woman, isn’t it?”

  “Why do you want to punish me?”

  “You ruined my life. I lost my job. I lost my wife. And my daughter. She won’t even see me anymore. Isn’t that enough reason to punish you? And that doesn’t include the public reputation I lost. I can’t go anywhere I used to anymore. Everyone hates me and acts repulsed by the sight of me. All because of what you made so public.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Erica said honestly, her voice cracking.

  Suddenly, that fast, her head was jerked back and her neck was encircled by his two hands. He was choking her from behind. He intended to kill her. She pulled at his wrists and gasped for breath, as she clawed at his hands and arms. The world started to spin and go blurry. Oh God, she was going to die, here, now, only a few driveways down from Spencer’s house.

  Then suddenly, the hands let go. She gasped for air, her throat hurting so badly, tears leaked over her eyelids. She coughed and sputtered.

  “I’m talking about the lies you let my daughter spread. The lies that you fed my daughter and she told to everyone.”

  “I don’t understand,” Erica sputtered out, her voice nearly a croak. “I’m sorry, I just don’t know you. What daughter?”

  “Tamira.”

  Erica froze. Tamira’s father. “You’re Tamira’s father?”

  The strange pieces finally connected: the bloody dolls, the fury aimed at her. Erica was instrumental in Tamira’s escape from her abusive father. She provided counseling, guidance, and an abortion. She even gave Tamira a job just to help her move out.

  “You and that freak turned my daughter against me.”

  God, Spencer. He must have known Spencer dated Tamira. Recently. That explained why he brought her there.

  It didn’t, however, explain what the crazy stalker who raped his own daughter intended to do about any of it.

  They sat there longer. Staring. Doing nothing. Erica hoped someone might notice them. Then, she watched the garage door open at Spencer’s house, as his red car backed up and started down the street. It drove right past them. She willed him to look over, and notice her car even though it was parked in a dark spot. She willed him to feel her physical presence.

  But he just cruised by, leaning down to turn up the car stereo, which became loud and was bumping by the time he passed her. She felt hot tears starting again. She swallowed the lump that was lodged in her throat. Her heart dropped as she watched him passing her. Her last glimpses of hope seemed to cruise away with him. Her only relief was that at least Spencer got away from the fiendish man behind her.

  “Makes you wonder where he’s going, doesn’t it? Put the car into gear. Let’s follow him. But don’t even think of making yourself noticeable, or I’ll slit your throat.”

  The crazed lunatic couldn’t be telling her to follow her own boyfriend? What did he want? What would he do?

  “He knows my car,” she said finally.

  “Just drive.”

  Erica was shaking so hard, she found following another car was much more difficult when you couldn’t see through the tears in your eyes or control the shaking in your limbs. She followed Spencer’s red car, as in and out of traffic they went. Eventually, he pulled into a parking garage downtown. She parked where the man behind her pointed and her heart dipped. No, not a parking garage. It was dark, cold cement; they could get trapped. She didn’t know or care what Spencer was doing, she only wanted to fling open her car door and yell his name. And run to him. And fall into his arms. Instead, she sat perfectly still. Quiet. Both hands still squeezing the steering wheel.

  “Does he love you?”

  “What?” Erica was shocked out of her own fear by the question. It was so completely unexpected.

  “Does that man love you? You know, he defiled my daughter. He conceived a baby with her. And never loved her. So I ask, does he love you?”

  Erica didn’t know what the right answer was. If Spencer did love Erica, would the man consider it a personal affront to his daughter? Or some kind of insult to him? Or would he hate Spencer more because he thought Spencer was just using her too? She didn’t know what to answer.

  “I don’t know,” she said finally. “I hope so.”

  “So did my daughter. Look at what it got her. She lost another baby.”

  “She was never pregnant by Spencer,” Erica said softly.

  “She was. She told me so.”

  “She was wrong.”

  “Maybe you were wrong. You ever think of that?”

  Erica heard anger rising in his tone. “You’re right. Sure. I could easily be wrong.”

  Still they sat. Finally, Erica couldn’t take it anymore. She watched Spencer crossing the parking lot before he disappeared into an elevator, but now it seemed like a long time ago. She had no idea where they were, or what Spencer was doing there. She just wished she could run after him. Her body ached to do that.

  “What do you want, Mr. Tobison? Please I don’t know what you want from me.”

  “What do I want? I want my little girl back. And my wife back. And my job back. Most of all, I want my reputation back. Tell me how do I get any of those things back?”

  “I don’t know,” Erica said, her heart heavy with fear.

  “I do. By discrediting you. You need to tell the truth about Tamira and me. You need to explain to the world how wrong you were and give up your practice as a doctor. You resign or give up your license or whatever you do to permanently quit doctoring.”

  “Gladly, if you’ll just let me out of this car. All I have to do is quit. No resistance. It’s over.”

  “I’m not stupid. You aren’t going to keep your word.”

  “I will. Now that you’ve made it clear how serious you are.”

  “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

  The knife was back on her arm as his arm came around her neck and squeezed her head into the headrest. She struggled and kicked, with the tears streaming down her face, as she begged him not to let her die like this.

  ****

  Spencer felt his cell phone vibrating and almost ignored it, but since he was on a break, he answered.

  “Spencer? It’s Joelle.”

  Spencer sighed. Of course, it was Joelle. Joelle was probably calling to lecture him for what happened with Erica. She hadn’t yet commented about it to him or tried to interfere, but finally, she was.

  “What do you want? Look, I didn’t sleep with Erica’s sister, no matter what she thinks she saw.”

  Joelle’s sigh was frustrated. “Well, God, tell her that at least. But that’s not what I called about.”

  “It’s not?”

  Joelle’s long exhale echoed over the phone line. “No. Look, Spence, something’s happened to Erica.”

  “Happened?
” His blood froze.

  “She’s in the hospital. Someone attacked her. You need to get here now.”

  Spencer didn’t answer, but dropped the phone, and had his keys and wallet in his hand before he was out the door. He broke every traffic law there was, hoping a cop would notice and escort him faster to the hospital. Finally, minutes later he parked before sprinting across the parking lot, and up the stairs, two at a time. He knew exactly where to go. The second floor again, no doubt. He was finally at the front desk, asking for Erica’s room. The nurse refused his request. Erica was under police protection. Frustrated, he ran down the hallway, until he bumped into Joelle.

  “Where is she?”

  “Follow me.” Joelle, thank God, was smarter than most women. She never felt the need to waste precious time on hugs or idle chit-chat.

  Nick was seated outside the room. So was a large-looking man with his arms crossed over his chest.

  “What is this?” Spencer asked Nick, nodding at the men littering the hallway and waiting room.

  “Bodyguards. I hired them.”

  Spencer nodded, wishing he had the money and idea to do that weeks ago. But instead of being there with Erica, he let things go lax with them, especially, her security. And she ended up here because he was mad at her. He didn’t know what to say that could describe how much he repented and what a selfish bastard he was.

  “What happened?”

  Nick’s mouth was pressed in a hard line. He shook his head. “Looks like someone got her outside her office building. We found half her purse in the parking lot, phone included. He forced her into her own car and she was found dumped in a parking garage.”

  “A parking garage? Which one?”

  “Under the Indo Tower.”

  Spencer started. He’d been there. Right fucking there. In the restaurant up top, playing background ambiance music to a bunch of business professionals. Why was Erica there? Why was she driven there? What the hell happened?