Zenith Rising (Zenith Trilogy, #2)

by Leanne Davis

  “If it weren’t for you, Joelle wouldna left Rob. Way I see it, if Rob didn’t get jilted by that bitch, Spike never woulda broken up the group, and thrown Rob’s ass in rehab. That’s the way I see it,” Kenny slurred behind Erica.

  Erica tugged her arm. Mitch was like a rock, but he let go. They blamed Spencer for Zenith’s break-up as well as their lack of jobs. Their anger at Spencer was evident in their voices.

  “Are you why we don’t have a band anymore?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. And neither do you,” Erica said, the disdain oozing in her voice. They didn’t like her tone, and scowled at her. Then, without warning, Kenny’s arms came forward and he pushed her. Erica fell down with a rather unladylike drop, and her glasses were knocked off by the sheer force of her near faceplant. Pain shot up from her arm at having the wind knocked out of her. She stayed there a moment, surprised, and shocked that she was on the ground. She couldn’t believe that a grown man actually pushed her down to the ground. He dared push her to the ground!

  She sat up, groping around for her glasses, but couldn’t find them. Through her blurry vision, she saw a figure bending over and picking them up before throwing them outside into the front yard. Erica stood up. Why did Mitch do that? She was almost legally blind without her glasses. She had to have them; otherwise, she was helpless. Instantly, she felt as feeble as a newborn kitten.

  She backed up, following the wall with her hands, then, as fast as she could, she stumbled out the front door, onto the grass and began looking for her precious glasses. Looking hard. She felt very intimidated. Seriously intimidated now. They were watching her through the open front door. She could hear them laughing as she scrambled around the front yard on her hands and knees. She felt all around, pleading with God to let her please stumble over them. She needed them so desperately, or she would be stuck there, and at their mercy.

  “What in the hell are you two laughing at?”

  Erica heard the voice and looked towards the front door. Still, she couldn’t see exactly who it was.

  “Where is she?” Rob’s voice followed closely afterwards.

  “Pussy doc’s out there. Crawling around on her hands and knees, like she oughta be for messin’ up our band.” Four blurry figures now stood in the doorway. Her humiliation was instantaneous and real, making her almost glad she couldn’t see them watching her.

  “What the hell?”

  Spencer’s voice sounded closer before he was sprinting across the lawn, just then seeming to realize she was really out there. He was immediately next to her, and squatting down. She felt his hands on her shoulders as he pulled her up with him. Gently. Carefully. His arms held her shoulders. She could feel the strength of his grip, and the flexing of his arm muscles.

  “What’s going on?”

  “They threw my glasses out here. I can’t see a thing without them,” she said, as if to excuse why she would crawl around his front yard like a crazed woman.

  “They what?”

  “They threw my glasses out here.”

  “How did they get them?”

  “Kenny pushed me down in the house.”

  “Pushed you down? As in, on purpose?”

  “Yes.”

  Spencer let her go, spewing a string of curses that left Erica’s ears burning. Then he spun around and came back a few seconds later, holding her glasses. “Stupid, little prick broke them.”

  Erica took them. They were demolished and her heart sank.

  Spencer, however, wasn’t finished. He ran across the yard in three seconds. “What the hell is the matter with you two? Five minutes alone and you throw her to the ground? Why? Why would you do anything at all to her? Even talk to her?” Rob came out and Erica stayed back.

  “Bitch had it coming. Calm down, Spike, man. We just brought her down a notch. Rich bitch gave Joelle money to get out of here, and ditch Rob. Ditch Zenith. She had it coming! She’s the reason why I don’t have a job,” Kenny said as he stepped out.

  Erica wanted to slither away. No, evaporate. She didn’t know what to do, what to say, or where to look. Spencer’s posture was rigid, jerky in movement and his unrepressed anger seemed to radiate off him. In the next moment, Spencer had Kenny’s shirt in his hands, as he nearly body-slammed him against the house, and held him there. Kenny was fat and much smaller. He squirmed and squealed against Spencer’s grasp.

  “How many times have I told you to quit calling me Spike? And to quit coming around here drunk? Stay away from Rob, and me, and this house! Get it? And if you want to live to see another day, you slimy little dipshit, don’t ever even look at Joelle or Dr. Heathersby again! I’ll kill you if you do. I swear to God, I will.”

  “Sorry, man, I didn’t know. Thought the stuck-up bitch was, you know, causing trouble. Let go, Spence. I won’t do nothin’ again. I swear.”

  Spencer only pushed harder, until Kenny’s eyes popped. Mitch came out of the house and Erica’s heart plummeted. Oh God, what now? What was that steroid giant planning to do? Spencer was taller, but no one could even remotely contend with Mitch’s bulging muscles. Then again, Spencer’s violent rage was terrifying all on its own. Erica was speechless at the swiftness and the depth of the almost uncontrollable fury lying inside him.

  Rob came up behind Spencer, and waved Mitch back. “Get out of here, Mitch, and take the little piece of shit with you before Spencer kills him.”

  “What does that mean? You do this, kick us out now, and the band’s done. For good. We won’t be back. We ain’t waitin’ around anymore for your stupid shit to get worked out.”

  “Are you seriously asking if I’d take Spence over you two? The band, as far as you two are concerned, is done. Zenith, though, lives on as me and Spencer. Always.”

  “Get the fuck off my lawn you stupid pieces of shit,” Spencer said as he pushed Kenny harder towards Mitch. They sneered and grumbled. Erica deftly moved out of their lines of vision. She was scared of what she witnessed, but mostly afraid of Spencer’s unbridled wrath. She was shocked how quickly the violence erupted from him. Spencer was breathing very hard, almost furiously so, even now. He pushed at Rob suddenly.

  “That is exactly what I kept telling you about those two. They were only too happy to see you drive Joelle away from here. They were only too happy to see our lives become cesspools, and yet, you insist on bringing them back here? I told you we were done with them. I meant it. I’ve put up with a lot of crap from you for the last few years, but this crosses the line. Maybe this is all okay with you, but it’s not with me.”

  Rob shook his head. “It’s not okay with me. Jesus, Spence, you know that. I hang out with them off and on. I wasn’t even thinking about Zenith. I didn’t expect any trouble.”

  “That’s the point. They always bring trouble, expected or not.”

  Rob turned towards Erica, who was trying to make herself as small as possible.

  “Doc, I’m sorry. Genuinely, sorry. I didn’t think they’d do anything, especially not like that.”

  “I believe you. I mean, it surprised me too.”

  Spencer glared at Rob, then walked around him. He put his hand on Erica’s wrist, his large hand now gentle, and surprisingly soft when compared to the angry expression on his face. “Come on. I’ll get you home, and out of this stinking neighborhood. It’s not like you can drive now. Turns out that giving me a lift, and trying to be nice, was a total mistake and a waste of everyone’s time.”

  Chapter Four

  Erica followed Spencer’s long-legged gait across his yard. The world was fuzzy and unclear to her eyes, despite wearing the shattered glasses. Spencer’s anger followed him to the car. He opened her car door, and waited for her to get in before slamming the door and getting into the driver’s side. He shifted and squealed out of the driveway, spinning her tires. Erica gripped the door handle, and took her glasses off as they made her feel seasick.

  After a moment, Spencer asked, “Did you get hurt?”

  “No. I’
m fine.”

  Spencer glanced at her and she saw his head move, but had no clue of his expression. “I doubt you’re fine. You were just attacked, and in my house, no less.”

  “Not attacked, so much as annoyed. I’m okay though. Really, Spencer.”

  “I’m sorry. For them. And that. I should never have left the room. I should have sent you home, then and there. I knew the undertones. Rob didn’t like you being there and Kenny and Mitch are stupid pigs, but managed to pick up on that. And I should never have left you with such morons.”

  “It’s certainly not your fault, or even Rob’s. He seemed genuinely shocked at their behavior. And sorry.”

  “Yeah, Rob’s a champ at being sorry. He should try not screwing around so much and maybe he wouldn’t have to be so sorry.”

  Erica was quiet. She was unsure of Spencer’s mood or how much anger he harbored towards the friend he so loved. She’d never been bullied before and it shook her up. A lot. It happened so fast, so easily. She became a victim in the blink of an eye.

  “I’ll replace your glasses.”

  “No. You won’t. You didn’t do anything. Kenny did. And Mitch did. Not your fault. I’m not stupid, Spencer, I know the difference. I see how different you are from them.”

  “Different? How’s that possible?”

  “Because you are.”

  “I was them. I was Spike. I was everything you saw.”

  “But you’re not now. I mean, even Rob’s not. I can see that. Even his ex-wife could see that about him and you.”

  “Thank you. And thanks for being so gracious about it. Not a surprise, though; look at everything you’ve done for Joelle.”

  He slowly and expertly turned into the parking garage of her building, sliding her car into a spot with startling grace and ease. He again came around and opened her door before she got out.

  “You can’t even see your own feet without your glasses, can you?”

  “Unfortunately, no.”

  “Carry a spare pair from now on. It’s not safe, and puts you at the mercy of others. Don’t do that. Don’t ever put yourself at the mercy of others. No matter what.”

  Undertones again. God, what could have happened to Spencer? Why did he so distrust people in general? Even himself, it seemed.

  They waited for the elevator, standing apart with a good two feet between them. They rode in silence. Erica took the key chain he handed her when they got to her front door. She squinted, but finally managed to insert the key, and open the door.

  She turned the lights on, placing her stuff by the front door. Then she rummaged around her desk until she found her spare pair of glasses. She nearly sighed with pleasure when the world came back into perfectly clear focus.

  Spencer stood in the doorway, waiting, and looking around her living room.

  “Better?”

  “Than being blind? Yes.”

  “Again, I’m sorry they went after you. It was about me. I really didn’t think they’d bother you.”

  “What about you? What are they so angry about?”

  “They didn’t like Spike disappearing and they don’t like Rob being sober, but they really don’t like me keeping Rob sober. Because I won’t let them or Rob do anything. Nothing in the house, or together. I’ve been Rob’s jailer for the past two years. Rob thinks I saved his life. They think I ruined it, as well as theirs. That’s what you saw. That’s what you were being victimized over tonight. Zenith. Another victim of Zenith.”

  “It almost sounds like you hate Zenith.”

  He looked her in the eye. “I wish we’d never created Zenith. I wish we’d never ruined our lives over such a stupid dream. So yeah, that is why I sound like I dislike the one thing that almost destroyed the few people I actually care about.”

  Erica was startled by the vehemence in his tone. So far, he showed only two emotions: anger and hatred. He was a startling man to behold. Intense. Unsmiling. Yet, also compelling and somehow, deep.

  And sad. Extremely sad. She was sure he would cringe if he knew that’s what she was thinking about him. He was sad and troubled, not only for things in his present life, but also for things in his past. For Zenith. But Erica didn’t believe he hated Zenith. How could he hate his God-given talent? He was an incredible musician. She preferred to believe that someday, he’d want to play again. Try again. Dream again.

  He turned, and started out her door to leave.

  “Spencer?”

  He looked back to acknowledge her.

  “How will you get home?”

  “Bus.”

  She shook her head and went over to her purse. He noticed what she was doing.

  “I don’t need your money, Doc.”

  “Don’t take it as an insult. It’s the middle of the night, and we just got through a crappy two hours, and you don’t have a job. So take it and call a cab.”

  He eyed her and stiffened. “Fine. I’ll call a cab, but I don’t need your money.”

  “I wish you would take it, but I see you won’t. Are you looking for another job?”

  He shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. “Guess so. Have to work.”

  “I could easily get you on at my practice. Until you find something better, that is. It won’t be glamorous, but it could pay your bills until things improve. I own the building the practice is in. I have several tenants, and there is lots of work around the building and grounds that needs to be done.”

  “You own the whole building?”

  “Yes. So are you interested?”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “I guess because I can.”

  “You don’t have to feel sorry for me. I’ve been getting jobs, on and off, all my adult life.”

  “I didn’t mean it as an insult. The building has work that needs to be done. The job is yours if you want it.”

  He glared at her and she almost apologized for the offer. Then, he suddenly nodded, and in a curt tone, said, “Fine. I’ll take it.”

  “Again, I’m not trying to insult you.”

  He was silent, but finally nodded. “I’m sorry for being a jerk about it. In my world, people don’t do nice things without being asked for near strangers. Not so in your world though, is it?”

  She didn’t know what to say to that. “So is that a yes?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay.” She grabbed her purse, dug out her business card and handed it to him. “Eight o’clock Monday. Here’s our address.”

  He hesitated and stared at her. His gaze slid from her hair, and down her body. Finally, he nodded. “Okay, Doc. See you at eight o’clock Monday morning.”

  ****

  Spencer thought about calling Rob and insisting that he pick him up at Erica’s condo. Instead, he called a cab. Rob, who was still broke, often borrowed his car, leaving him to ride the city bus half the time. Tonight, however, he didn’t feel like riding it or calling Rob. He was so pissed off still, and primed that he didn’t know what to do. Go out? Get drunk? Get laid? Get high? All seemed like equally good choices. He sighed, and ultimately decided to go home even though there wasn’t a single reason to do that.

  He slammed the door when he walked in and stomped through the house. He went to the fridge and grabbed a beer, popping the top and drinking liberally. All the while, Rob watched him from the couch. Spencer did it to say screw you, I can drink this. You can’t. Fuck you, Rob. Especially tonight. He knew he shouldn’t keep alcohol in the house. He hadn’t for the first year after Rob’s recovery, but decided recently he wasn’t a recovering drunk. Rob was. Rob had to handle it. Even in their house. Especially tonight.

  Finally, Spencer’s anger cooled down. He came around the couch and sat at the opposite end.

  “I didn’t do it this time, Spence. I know everything lately is my fault. But not this one.”

  “I know. It’s mine. For even bringing someone like that here.”

  “Dr. Erica Heathersby. I always assumed that was as in Heathersby Shipping? The big carg
o ships with their labels on them any relation to her?”

  Spencer shrugged. “Don’t know. I’d assume so. I know she owns a building. And you know where she lives.”

  Rob sat back and glanced at Spencer. “So what was she doing here? I mean, how could I have known that Erica Heathersby, of all the women in the city, would be here?”

  “She felt sorry that I had to take the bus tonight. That was, of course, after she just delivered a baby, for God’s sake.”

  “Joelle’s baby.”

  “Two years, Rob. It’s been over two years. You don’t get to be the angry ex just because she moved on. It’s not about you anymore.”

  Rob paused as he let out a breath. “You’re right. It’s not. So the doc drove you home. Why’d she come in? You and her...”

  “No. Her and I nothing. Ever. You’ve seen her. We barely get past a few conversations. Even that was strained for her. Anyway, she fell asleep on the way home. Turns out she delivered another baby last night, and was up for almost two days. I was getting her a simple, uncomplicated, cup of coffee when you barged in.”

  “And complicated everything, as usual.”

  “Fuck you, Rob. Sometimes, I don’t need it.”

  “I agree. Except tonight wasn’t me. Besides, Erica handled it pretty well. She didn’t go running or screaming, and she didn’t blame you. She was pretty cool about the whole thing.”

  “So quit being such a dick about her,” Spencer said, turning towards the TV. He was quiet for a long while. Finally, he mumbled, “She offered me a job.”

  Rob turned, and muted the sound. “Who did? Erica?”

  “Yeah. Doing maintenance at her office, on the building she owns. Whatever. It’s bullshit.”

  “She offered you a job after what happened here tonight?”

  “Yeah, right after it.”

  “Take it. Why not?”

  “I’m tired of bullshit jobs.”

  “So do something, Spence. Do the fuck something. Forget me. Forget Zenith. Forget all this, and do something else.”

  “Yeah. Sure. I’ll do that. Right now though? We have bills. So I took her job.”