Zenith Rising (Zenith Trilogy, #2)

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Zenith Rising (Zenith Trilogy, #2) Page 31

by Leanne Davis


  “Dumped how?” The words felt awkward and thick as they came through his lips.

  “Sorry, man. I don’t know yet. She was unconscious. Roy Bennett recognized her when she was brought in. He called me. I don’t know what happened to her.”

  It could be really bad. It could be rape. What was done to her? Bile filled his throat. He staggered at the thought of what might have happened to Erica. Erica Heathersby who never harmed anyone in her life. Who did everything in the world she could to help everyone around her. To the point where she sacrificed her own personal life. Who could have hurt her?

  Spencer noticed Joelle was as pale and bilious as he felt. She grabbed onto Nick for support and Spencer turned away.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Erica eventually came around and squinted her eyes to focus. She was in a hospital room bed and her body felt heavy and achy. She lifted her left hand because her right arm was bandaged up. So was her torso. A flood of memories came rushing back to her. Tamira’s dad. Choking her, stabbing her. Then nothing.

  She’d been stabbed. The knowledge of that made her sick inside. Cold. It felt surreal. The sickening knowledge that she was stabbed. For the rest of her life, she’d know what it felt like to be stabbed, the victim of violence and it was shocking.

  Tobison had choked her, and stabbed her arm, as well as her chest. He threw her from her car and took off. He drove away in her car and her naive, innocent perception of daily life was carried off with it. She remembered seeing the taillights of her car fading as he sped away and disappeared. She remembered lying on the cold, hard cement. She remembered all the blood oozing through her fingers when she clutched her chest. Then she passed out.

  She heard the nurse in her room moving around. There was only the glow of the bathroom light to illuminate her room. She slowly turned her head, trying to get her bearings, as a wave of vertigo, then confusion, filled her head. She stopped.

  Spencer!

  Spencer was sitting as quiet and still as an inanimate object, in the corner of her room, in a chair, watching her. His gaze was dark and intent. He jumped to his feet and came towards her.

  He was okay! Spencer was just fine. Her eyes ran the length of him to check him out and make sure she wasn’t seeing things. No, he was perfectly fine. Tall, long and muscular. Healthy and whole. She felt her breath exhale, as her eyes closed in relief. She feared Tobison had left her to go find Spencer and follow through with his vengeful threats.

  “Erica?”

  She opened her eyes at hearing Spencer’s voice. It was raw, and hoarse, like nothing she’d ever heard from him before. It was… emotional.

  “You’re okay?” she managed to utter finally. Just opening her mouth, she had to lick her lips and force out her breath in order to make any sounds. Her chest felt heavy and very painful.

  “Me?”

  “He said he’d shoot you and he made me follow you.”

  Spencer’s eyes sharpened on her face. His eyes looked hot, even scorching, as he looked over her with sudden comprehension.

  “That’s how you ended up in the parking garage? You were ordered to follow me? Who, Erica? Who did this? What did he do to you?”

  “Later. Too tired.” She lifted her hand towards his and he caught hers and held it tightly. His long fingers, strong and smooth, covered hers. He looked down at their joined hands, then up into Erica’s face. “How did you know to come here?”

  “Someone recognized you in the ER when you were brought in. Nick was called. Joelle called me.”

  She nodded and her eyes fluttered shut. She was so tired. Too tired to think. To feel. To analyze. To even be glad she was still alive. There was so much she and Spencer needed to talk about and figure out. But none of it mattered anymore. What mattered was that he was right there beside her, alive and well. And so was she.

  “What happened? Who did this to you?”

  Erica opened her eyes again. “I was stabbed.”

  She said it out loud because she still couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t fathom it. But it did happen and she needed to acknowledge that. That was more important than trying to answer everyone else’s questions.

  Spencer’s eyes went to her arm and her chest, his gaze darkening. “Were you raped?”

  She saw the look on his face. The clipped tone in his voice, which others assumed meant Spencer did not care, but Erica knew Spencer cared too much. So much, he couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t stand seeing her so hurt from being stabbed. And he sure as hell couldn’t stand hearing that she’d been raped.

  “No, I wasn’t raped.”

  His shoulders seemed to drop and ease slightly. Erica smiled softly, and added, “Just stabbed.”

  He finally looked at her face and smiled at her too, but only barely. There was no one else who could have gotten her, and understood her then. A look and a statement were enough; Spencer understood.

  Spencer’s other hand came up to her face, lifting her chin so gently, it made Erica’s heart ache. He was looking at the bruises all over her neck. Where she was choked. She had to tell him everything. How it happened, how long it went on, where they went. That she watched him. But not yet. She still couldn’t find the words to describe it, and was still in shock. It all felt surreal.

  His fingers softly caressed her neck and she closed her eyes. She tried to suppress the tears gathering behind her eyelids. She couldn’t believe she was a victim or that such an act of violence could have happened to her. Or the gentleness and caring of Spencer’s touch. She knew what this event would do to him, and prove to him about life: that he was always right. Everything always went bad and turned to shit. Life hurts, no matter what.

  “It shouldn’t have happened.”

  She grabbed his wrist and clasped his hand. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “Wasn’t it? If I hadn’t been mad at you, and trying to punish you, I would have been there like usual. I was there. I saw you after the last attack. I knew, if there was a next time, it would be worse. And what did I do? I left you alone.”

  “You and I were avoiding each other. I wanted to be left alone, just as much as you wanted to leave me. You didn’t do this. I didn’t do this.” Tamira did. She didn’t say it out loud. Not yet. Not now.

  Spencer looked down at their joined hands. “I didn’t sleep with your sister.”

  “I didn’t contact your mother.”

  Spencer’s eyes shot up. Erica’s were already on him. She smiled weakly and he finally, smiled back. “It doesn’t matter right now, does it?”

  “No. You being all right is all that matters.”

  He shook his head.“You not being all right is what really matters.”

  She started to speak but there was quick knock at the door, and the door opened. In walked four doctors, all of whom Erica had worked or consulted with in some capacity or another, including Roy Bennett. Spencer immediately straightened, and dropped Erica’s hand, as he stepped back, almost in deference to the group of doctors who gathered around her hospital bed. Erica hated to see how Spencer stepped back, instantly moving out of the way whenever people, doctors, or anyone in authority entered whom he considered more important than himself.

  “Dr. Heathersby! Oh, look at you. I heard you were attacked. I came as soon as they told me. I’m so sorry.” Dr. Carrie Holdens spoke first, smiling kindly at Erica. Erica knew that look and voice. She often used the same bedside manner herself with many sick patients, or when conveying bad news to the family. Erica hated being on this side of her business: being the patient, the victim, the recipient of the doctors’ bedside manners.

  Erica smiled as much as she could, but her voice was raw, and her throat hurt. She didn’t want to talk to anyone, or see anyone. Except Spencer. She wanted him, and the significance of that wasn’t lost on her.

  Tonight, things became clear to her, what she wanted and didn’t want, more than any other single event in her life.

  “It was a random mugging,” Erica said in a weak tone.
>
  The other doctors talked and clucked over her. She appreciated their concern, and taking time to see her out of mutual respect. She knew she was well respected among the other doctors; but right then, she didn’t care. She didn’t want to be a doctor, or be polite or respected. She wanted to be left alone. Alone so she could feel whatever she should have felt right now. Whatever one should feel after being stabbed.

  Finally the doctors left, except for Roy. He waited until they exited, lingering near her feet. Glancing up at Spencer, his look was clear that he wanted Spencer to leave. Spencer was quiet, looming in the corner of the room, his arms crossed over his chest, his gaze mean, with one hip resting against the windowsill.

  Roy cleared his throat. “Do you mind if I have a minute alone with Erica?”

  “Yeah, I actually do mind,” Spencer said, without another word. Or moving. His gaze just narrowing.

  “Erica?” Roy looked pleadingly into her eyes.

  “Uh, Roy, I don’t think he’s going to leave me alone.”

  “He still work for you?”

  Erica looked over at Spencer and smiled. Then she looked back at Roy. “No. He’s my boyfriend. And someone stabbed me, so he’s not going to leave me alone anytime soon. And by the way, you’re the jerk who cheated on me, so from now on, you’re going to have to be more polite to him.”

  “He’s your boyfriend?” It was the same shrill tone used by everyone else who heard about it. Erica wondered why it was so shocking. What was shocking about their relationship? Her? Or him?

  “Yes.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Roy frowned. Spencer was in a mood and she swallowed and hoped Roy didn’t do anything to offend her or piss him off because she feared what his reaction might be.

  “I just wanted to say I was sorry for getting mad about the police last time you were attacked. When I saw you in here with stab wounds, I felt just awful. I had no idea things would escalate so badly.”

  “No one did.”

  “I did,” Spencer said from the corner.

  “Spencer did.” Erica corrected herself.

  “Who is doing this to you? And why?”

  Erica shrugged, looking away. “Don’t know, Roy. But I appreciate the apology.”

  “I hope you know this wasn’t me. I was here all night. More than one person can vouch for my whereabouts.”

  “I know it wasn’t you,” Erica said, feeling Spencer’s gaze sharpening on her face at the confidence in her tone.

  Silence descended, but Erica wasn’t in the mood to make Roy feel better, or for idle chit-chat. She was exhausted. And stabbed. She was stabbed and in the hospital.

  “Okay then, I’ll let you get some rest. I’m sorry, Erica… for everything.”

  Together, they watched Roy leave and Spencer’s gaze came right back to her. She closed her eyes.

  “Who was it?”

  His voice was deadpan and calm. As if Spencer was asking her what her favorite TV show was. He knew now, she could identify her attacker. He already picked that up, as he did everything with her. And he was pissed off that she wasn’t saying. Pissed she waited so long. And scared. He was deathly scared about what happened to her and what could’ve happened to her. And he couldn’t tolerate feeling scared for her.

  She opened her eyes. “You don’t have to back away from me when my colleagues or nurses, or even the freaking mailman comes near us. Stay with me, stay next to me. You have every right to be here, with me.”

  “Who did it?”

  She heard the steely edge of rage. She laid her head back, closed her eyes, clenched her fists and said softly, “I’m not going to tell you.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because you’ll find him and kill him, and wind up in prison for the rest of your life. I’m not stupid enough to tell you. Not right now. Not when your enraged enough to do something terrible.”

  He stepped closer to her and she felt his anger, emanating off him in waves of heat. He gritted his teeth and ground out in a slow enunciations, “Erica… who did this to you?”

  “I don’t know. That’s what I told the police. And it’s what I’m telling you.”

  “You’ll risk letting the perp get away because you’re afraid of how I’ll react?”

  “Yes.”

  “Erica, you can’t do this.”

  “Yes, I can. It was my attack. Mine. I get to decide what I say and to whom. I get that much control. I also get to prevent you from ruining the rest of your life over it.”

  “Erica…”

  “I want you to get Nick for me.”

  “What? Nick? What the hell are you doing?”

  “I want you to get Nick for me.”

  She finally turned her face and saw his dark, fierce eyes. If he could have breathed fire, she was sure he would have. Erica added softly, “Please. I’m too tired to argue. Do what I ask.”

  That got him, she saw the conflict: his anger at her, but not being able to refuse her when she lay there with two stab wounds. He spun around on his heel and left her room. Erica’s body wilted. It took all her strength to do that. But she had no choice. Spencer wasn’t thinking right and wouldn’t act properly. Nick would. She had to trust Nick right now, and hope Spencer understood later.

  Nick came in a few moments later with Spencer and Joelle.

  “You know who did this?”

  “I know. I’m going to tell you. But first, I want you to call Rob Williams.”

  Everyone looked at her as if she’d suddenly grown two heads.

  “Rob? Why the hell should I call Rob?” Nick was angry with her now too.

  “Because I can’t. And Spencer won’t. And I need to tell someone who did this. So I need Rob here.”

  No one understood, until Erica nodded at Joelle. She got it. She stepped forward and put a hand on Nick’s arm. “Rob can deal with Spencer. No one else can.”

  Spencer bristled. “I don’t need to be fucking dealt with.”

  Nick turned and glanced at Spencer, then Erica. “No. But she doesn’t want you killing whoever did this. Because she must already know that you could. And would.”

  Erica nodded. “So, I need you or Joelle to call Rob.”

  “Why me? I mean Rob and I aren’t exactly friendly. Me being married to his ex-wife and all.”

  “Because I’m going to tell you, and only you, who did this, and you’re going to pay one of your numerous PIs to prove it, and deal with the police. Because I can’t. But I also doubt this will be the last of it either.”

  Nick looked down at her, then up at Spencer. “Okay, Erica, whatever you need.”

  Nick turned and left. Joelle and Spencer stayed.

  “I’m not your child. I don’t need protecting.”

  “I need you though. I need you here for me. Not protecting me. Just be here for me.”

  Joelle stood close and took Erica’s hand. “I know, Spencer. I do. What you feel. But you need to be here for her. Your rage is for yourself, and doesn’t help her. And one thing I do know about you, you want to do what’s best for Erica.”

  Spencer glared at Joelle and turned on his heel and walked out of her room. Erica felt fresh tears stinging her eyes. Joelle squeezed her hand. “He’ll be back. Men can’t handle this stuff. Remember Nick when I was beaten up? They can’t stand just being there for us. Being like girlfriends to us. They want to do something. Fix it. Fix us. Just to avoid feeling so impotent.”

  Erica nodded. “Just stay with me. Talk to me. About anything else.” Erica closed her eyes and fell asleep to the sound of Joelle’s melodious voice, and the blurry images of a hooded man choking her in the dark.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Rob strode purposefully down the hospital corridor, his face determined and his jaw clenched. He stopped in front of Erica’s room to talk to Nick. The two stood five feet apart, glaring at each other, speaking in clipped, terse sentences. Nick nodded down the hallway, and Rob spotted Spencer sitting in a chair, alone, in the waiting room. Spencer was slouched,
his shoulders hunched forward, his long legs stretched out before him. Rob stopped and kicked a booted toe into his leg. Spencer moved his leg, but continued staring at the floor.

  “Why didn’t you call me?”

  Spencer shrugged, and didn’t look up. “What are you supposed to do? Take care of me?”

  “Don’t be such a selfish bastard. Erica was stabbed? And you think I wouldn’t want to know? I freaking care about her too, you know. Was she raped?”

  Spencer flinched. “No.”

  “And you! I care about you too. Why do you have to make it so hard for me? For Erica? For even Joelle? Why do you have to keep making everything so fucking hard?”

  “Erica wants her ex-boyfriend to find the guy who did this to her.”

  “I told you she was smart. You’d kill the guy if you found him. Nick, much as I hate to admit, won’t; he’ll do the right thing. Police, lawyers, the long hand of the law, justice and all that.”

  “Yeah, because he’s got the money to afford those things and I don’t. So she obviously needs his help.”

  “She’s smart, and practical. You don’t have the money, or the connections. He does. Get over it, Spencer. This has nothing to do with you, or what you lack. Quit making this about you! Do whatever she needs! For once, put someone else ahead of yourself.”

  Spencer looked up at Rob. “You make me sound like I’ve always been a selfish prick.”

  “Not always. But you can be. Until you met Erica, that is. There was no woman you cared about, wanted, thought about, or even remotely treated decently. All those girls, totally clueless, but united in their efforts to try and save you, were either ignored or stomped on until they left. Until Erica. She’s not clueless, but smart and kind, and you respect her. You want her. And you’d be crazy not to. If you still feel unworthy of her, then fix it. Do whatever it takes to make yourself worthy. But start with handling this, her stabbing, and do it however she wants.”

 

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