Zenith Falling (Zenith Trilogy, #1)

by Leanne Davis

  His hands stayed firmly on her waist, doing nothing. Just holding her. She stood there, unmoving, her head bent into his. Their combined confusion filled the air as they both wondered, what exactly was happening? And why? Why now?

  The moment was hot, deep and intense as nothing he’d ever experienced. He could feel her breathing hard, with nerves, excitement, albeit confusion. She was that complicated, perplexed, and naive. Suddenly, he heard the door. Joelle stiffened, and stepped back before running down the hall as Nick stood up to go after her. She was gone. He turned towards Erica as she came through the front door, calling out, “Hi. I brought home take-out.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Joelle’s heart was hammering as she leaned against the door she just slammed shut. How could she and Nick do that? After all this time, with both of them involved in other relationships, everything already messy and complicated, how could they just kiss and make things even worse? Especially since to date, they’d done so well maintaining the invisible line between them. The physical line they couldn’t cross that involved things like sex and intimacy, things they weren’t allowed to feel or share with each other. Why now? Why when she was more confused, and emotional than ever before, did they cross the line?

  And now she’d hurt Erica. Erica who was turning out to be the one person getting her through this mess. Erica who was uncomplicated, kind, wonderful, caring and nice to her. There were no undercurrents, no messiness, and no judgments in her demeanor. But now, of course, there would be; she had betrayed Erica. She slumped her shoulders dejectedly. Was there any relationship in her life she wasn’t destined to betray? Or destroy? Or just mess up?

  And why was Nick’s kiss so soft and intense, so perfect as no one ever kissed her? She was scared, fragile, and hurt. And he knew that, he didn’t maul her, tongue her, or kiss her as if he was about to throw her down to have sex. No, Nick was tender and gentle, as if easing her into her own feelings, and into intimacy. It was like nothing Joelle had ever experienced.

  She was honest with Nick on a level she never dared to be with Rob. She could get as angry, as upset, as defensive and as rude as she felt like being, and Nick let her. He argued back. He let her have her say, but voiced his opinions as well. He didn’t coddle her. And there was no pretending with them. There was no ego boosting, or lying as she always did with Rob.

  Nick’s hands on her legs stirred up far more then she could let on. It left shivers running through her, twinges in her stomach, and a sense of tugging even lower. It set off sexual longing in her, anticipation, something she hadn’t felt in a long, long time. And now she didn’t know what to do with it, or about it.

  There was a soft tapping on her door. “Joelle? Open the door, it’s Erica.”

  Shit. Did Nick already tell her? She took a deep breath and opened the door.

  “There’s someone at the door for you.”

  “For me?”

  “Yes. It’s him; your husband. Nick answered it and asked me to get you. I think you should let Nick send him away.”

  Not now. Joelle turned and leaned against the bedpost, feeling the gravity of unsaid things, and unsaid decisions that now weighed her down. She wasn’t ready. There was so much confusion, guilt, and hurt. And on top of all that, now there was Nick.

  “How did Rob find me?”

  “I don’t know. You don’t have to see him. You’re under no obligation. Let Nick handle it. Please.”

  As Nick handled everything for her. No. At some point, she had to start handling things herself. Doing what was best for her. Figuring out what she wanted and how to get it.

  “I’ll be out,” she said finally, her back still to Erica. Erica came forward and touched a hand to her shoulder.

  “We’ll be right there with you. You’re not alone this time. You don’t have to go back to him. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes. Thank you,” Joelle said, her voice full of emotion. Erica squeezed her shoulder as she left.

  Joelle glanced in the mirror over the dresser, and saw a small, pathetic girl. There was nothing to her, nothing special or particularly pretty. There was nothing to warrant Rob’s needy love, or to justify allowing Nick Lassiter, one of the most successful people she knew, to kiss her or worry about her. But he did. And she did. And now Rob was here. Why? How could she face her own husband?

  She wasn’t alone this time. Erica’s words drifted through her self-doubts. She wasn’t alone. Erica and Nick were the two most decent people she’d ever met, or been around, and they both saw something salvageable in her. Something they both advocated for and encouraged her to see in herself. They saw something that mattered in her. Maybe she mattered, enough at least to them, to deserve rescuing and a better life than what Rob could offer her.

  Joelle opened the door, and came down the hallway towards the large living room. There, looking oddly wrong in that pristine, clean space, were Rob and Spike. They looked so stupid in Nick’s beautiful, classy, grown-up penthouse, it almost made Joelle laugh out loud.

  As Rob and Spike stood awkwardly in the entryway, with Nick beside them, obviously just having let them in, and still holding the door, Joelle could only stare at their blatant disparity. Nick was wearing his immaculate tie and button-down shirt, with short, curly hair next to the harshness of Rob and Spike. The men were such a study of contrasts, so oddly paired standing there before her that Joelle was almost embarrassed. Embarrassed for Nick to see them, and embarrassed for them to see Nick.

  She was also confused about where she fit in, or whom she belonged with.

  Nick passed by them, without saying a word, and his jerky movements were evidence of his anger, and festering, deep-seated hatred for Rob. Erica looked as if she’d just run into a brick wall. She had no idea what Joelle’s husband was like. What she saw clearly wasn’t what she imagined. She kept eyeing Spike as if she thought he might pull a knife on her.

  Then they all turned towards her, and Joelle felt like the entire room was focused on her, demanding answers, reasons, and actions. The tension grew so thick between the five of them, it almost made Joelle dizzy from the pressure she felt. Her gaze finally lifted and met Rob’s. She licked her lips and asked simply, “How did you find me?”

  “I followed him here.”

  Nick stiffened and Rob flicked his hand in Nick’s general direction.

  “What were you doing? Stalking him?”

  “I didn’t know how else to find you.”

  “Well, now you found me.”

  Rob stepped closer, coming more into the light. Joelle’s eyes widened when she caught a glimpse of Rob’s throat. There was a nasty ring around his neck of dark, ugly bruises.

  Joelle’s eyes rounded in horror. “Oh my God, what happened to you? Who did that?”

  “He did,” Rob said, stopping and glancing over at Nick.

  Nick was leaning back against the couch, his stance rather stiff, and his arms across his chest. His eyes flickered at her. Her mouth came open as she met his blank, almost passive stare. Nick acted as if choking Rob was nothing. There was hardly even a hint of acknowledgment.

  “You didn’t tell me that part.”

  “No. I didn’t,” Nick said, staring at her, his expression flat. She dropped her head, and pressed a hand to her temples, suddenly dizzy from the magnitude of Nick’s admission. She swung her gaze back to Rob. Why did Nick do this to Rob and not tell her? What exactly happened between them? She didn’t know what to do, or say. Finally, she looked at Spike, who gave her a small, sympathetic smile.

  Rob broke through her escalating anxiety. “Can we go somewhere to talk? You owe me that much.”

  Nick stiffened and pushed away from the couch. “She doesn’t owe you shit.”

  Joelle watched Nick before glancing at Erica, who was nervously folding her hands back and forth. Rob was staring at Joelle, waiting expectantly for her to leave with him. The pressure in her temples was blinding, they all wanted so much
from her. But then… what did she want?

  “Here. You can talk to me here.”

  Rob glanced in Nick’s direction. “Here? In his house?”

  She nodded. “Yes, in his house,” she said, ignoring all the eyes staring at her and walking around the couch to sit down.

  Erica turned to Nick. “Let’s leave them alone. You too, Spike? Wasn’t it? We’ll be in the dining room if you need us, Joelle.”

  Nick stood there with his legs planted wide and his arms crossed over his chest, unmoving. Joelle finally caught his eye. How could the last thing they shared be that kiss, and now this? Her husband, right in the middle of everything, there at Nick’s house.

  “Nick?”

  “You don’t have to talk to him.”

  “Yes, I do. And I want to talk to him here. But if you won’t let me, then I’ll leave with him and talk to him outside. You decide. ”

  Nick stiffened. He didn’t like her ultimatum, and his jaw muscles were working furiously.

  Rob’s mouth dropped open and his eyebrows shot up. Was it the tone of her voice? Probably, for she had never raised her voice like that to Rob. She had also never voiced an ultimatum to Rob. She never trusted Rob enough to do either.

  Rob’s shoulders were tense as he prepared to say something to Nick. Something nasty. But he held his tongue. His eyes were red-rimmed and his face was covered in days of stubble.

  Nick’s jaw looked ready to break with the continuous clenching. He glared first at Rob, and then Joelle, before finally turning to leave.

  Rob watched Nick retreat, and his sneer was fierce. “What does he think? He owns you?”

  “We’re not talking about Nick.”

  “We need to talk about Nick.”

  “No,” she said, her tone final. “I will not discuss him with you. I will discuss us. If you can’t accept that, then leave.”

  Rob looked at her, hard, long, and searching. His eyebrows lowered, and he had a perplexed expression. Another first: she had never set down the rules of what they were or were not allowed to discuss. She sat up straighter when she realized she could. She finally had some power. She could say and do whatever she chose. And if Rob didn’t like that, he could just as well leave. She no longer had to fear his response, because, well, Nick was a mere twenty feet away.

  Rob asked gently, “Are you coming home?”

  “No,” Joelle said, with more self-assurance than Rob ever saw in her before. “I can promise you one thing; I’m never living in that house again.”

  Rob let out a long breath. “Are you sleeping with him?”

  “No. I’m not sleeping with Nick.”

  “Then what are you doing here?”

  “What am I doing here? Didn’t you wonder that night I ran from the house, where I’d gone? Did you even bother to care I had no money, not even a coat? I came here because I had nowhere else to go. But I knew I could come to Nick, and he’d help me, no matter what.”

  Rob jerked back, stunned.

  “Why are you here?” she asked feeling already tired from the conversation.

  “You’re my wife. I love you. I want you back.”

  “Back? Back to what? Do you realize what happened to me? Are you even sorry?”

  “I was messed up that night.”

  “You’re messed up every night.”

  “I was out of my mind. I’m sorry. I mean it this time, I’m going to stop.”

  “It doesn’t even faze you, does it? My face. You’ve seen it before. A woman beaten up. Sure. You’re sorry, but not that shocked by it, or that upset, are you? All week long, every time Nick or Erica looked at me, they flinched, they worried, they were so uncomfortable with how my face looked, they could hardly stand it. They are also so shocked by my condition, they can hardly see straight. And yet, you didn’t even flinch.”

  “Nick and Erica,” Rob sneered. “What do they know about this shit? You’re right, I’m not shocked. I’ve seen it. Hell, I was nearly weaned on it. My mother, me, Spike. So I come home, and there you were, looking like my mother, cowering from my old man, and I was so jacked up, I thought for a crazy second, Joelle’s afraid of me. She’s cowering from me. I got angry. It wasn’t right, but that’s where it came from.”

  Joelle looked away and swallowed the lump in her throat. He was doing it. Rob was breaking down her defenses. He came up with an explanation that justified his action, and made her heart tug for him again. Both his parents were alcoholics, and regularly beat the shit out of him. More than once, his father nearly killed his mother right in front of him. Of course, none of what happened to Joelle was new for him. Of course, her injuries weren’t that shocking. Rob had suffered far worse as a child. Finally, after a long, drawn-out moment, with Rob sitting there, his head hanging, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands dangling with defeated, Joelle found the words that she dreaded saying the most. “Doesn’t it ever scare you? We both came from shit, and now we’re becoming it.”

  He raised his head to her and his eyes looked tired, depressed, and achingly sad. “Yes. It scares me. It scares me what I did to you that night. It scares me who I am. It scares me I’m exactly like them.”

  His parents. He was scared he was turning into his awful parents. She touched his hand and shook her head. “You’re not like them.”

  He snorted. “I’m an alcoholic. I let you get beat up. I lost you, for God’s sake. How do you figure I’m not like them?”

  She shook her head harder as tears filled her eyes. She couldn’t bear seeing the pain he was in. She could not tolerate him being like his parents. She’d been bolstering him for years, claiming he wasn’t like them. But now? Maybe… maybe he had good reason to be scared. The problem was, she couldn’t fight his demons. Not anymore. She had her own to contend with now, and most of them were caused by him.

  She stiffened her back. “What happened? Who attacked me?”

  “You know Cyres Morris? Well, the cops were looking closely at him for selling drugs. He split up his merchandise and asked some of us to hold it for him. He paid me for doing it. The cash I had recently came from that.”

  “You were dealing drugs?”

  “I was… just holding them. Anyways, I figure it was one of Morris’s handlers who heard about our revolving door policy and came after it.”

  “Do you know who it was?”

  “I have an idea. If I ever find out who did it, I swear to God, I’ll kill him.”

  Joelle shook her head. Rob didn’t know it, but he was standing on his own personal precipice. Dealing drugs? Thugs stealing from their own house? He was right on the verge of becoming everything he claimed he would never be.

  But… Joelle suddenly realized it wasn’t her fault. She couldn’t stop him. She couldn’t save him. She couldn’t complete him. Right now, she could only save herself.

  “No, no you won’t. You’ll grant me one request: you won’t hurt anyone. It’s done. It’s over. I don’t want you doing anything else stupid, to make things worse,” she took in a shuddering breath. “What happened to you? God… holding drugs in our house?! What happened to your dreams? To singing? To music? To Zenith?”

  He shook his head, staring at the carpet. “I expected the cops to come to the house at any time. Why didn’t you call them? It’s nothing I didn’t deserve.”

  “Because I wasn’t ready to.”

  “Surprised he didn’t do it for you,” Rob said, his voice sounding snide as he jerked his head towards the door Nick went through.

  “Not without my consent,” Joelle said. “So now what, Rob? Now, what will you do to stop all this?”

  Rob looked up. “I finally told Spike what I’ve been up to. I’m going back to singing. I mean it, I promise. No more bullshit, no more crap.”

  “You’re a drunk. You had drugs in my room. I got beat up in our house. And you dare to come here wanting… what from me exactly? To come back to that?”

  “I can change it all. I swear I can. With you, for you, I can. Just come ba
ck to me.”

  He scooted closer to her, wrapping his arms around her, his face resting on the crook of her shoulder; as damp tears fell on her bare neck. “I love you. Just tell me you’re not leaving me for Nick Lassiter.”

  “I’m not leaving you for Nick Lassiter. But I’m not coming back to you right now either,” she said quietly. She was close to him, and twisting her head, she saw the thick bruises on his neck. They must have hurt like hell. She touched them softly. “How did he do this? Why did he do this?”

  “Who? Your boss? He pinned me to the wall. I deserved it, I let him.”

  “He could have killed you.”

  “I think that was the point.”

  “And you let him?”

  “I couldn’t blame him. I know what I did, baby. I really do.”

  She let out a long breath. “I need more time.”

  He sighed as he straightened his body. “I know. I just needed you to know, that I know.”

  “Well, I don’t know,” she said, a cloud of confusion addling her mind. “These people, Nick and Erica, they live differently, Rob. It’s not the money. It’s the way they are. They don’t get it: the drugs, slums, drug dealers, hurt women, assaults; it’s all shocking to them. And you know what? I like that. I don’t know. I just need to see and figure it out.”

  “Who is Erica?”

  “Nick’s girlfriend.”

  “And what is Nick Lassiter to you?”

  “The only person I could go to that night. That’s all you need to know. Make of that what you will.”

  ****

  Erica couldn’t stop staring as covertly as possible at the man named Spike. Nick had to agree it was the most uncomfortable half hour he’d ever spent with anyone. Nick often entertained powerful men: senators, CEOs, foreign and domestic, with no problem, but this man, with his lethal-looking hair and vampire-like countenance was something he didn’t know what to make of.

  Finally, after watching Spike sit down, Nick asked, “So why are you here?”

  “I didn’t know what happened to Joelle, until you told me. It never would have happened if I’d been at home.”