by Leanne Davis
“It’s not part of your job description to baby sit me.”
He leveled his gaze at her. “You’re not paying me for this.”
“Thank you,” Erica said finally. Gravely. “You might as well keep my car for awhile. It’s not like I can drive it. Besides, it will save you time.”
“You’re not serious.”
She shrugged. “I am.”
“Doc, your car is…”
“My car. And I can loan it to whomever I want, and trust. And I trust you.”
He stared at her before turning forwards. “Looks to me like you should quit trusting everyone.”
“No, I won’t. I can’t. Besides, your way too tall to be the guy that attacked me. And if I quit trusting everyone, the perp wins. It’s not my way.”
“Not like my way, you mean?”
“Exactly. Perhaps having a little more faith wouldn’t kill you.”
He glanced at her. “I don’t know; in my experience, it just might.” He got out and slammed the car door, censoring any further comment Erica might have made.
****
Erica suffered through the day with annoyance. She couldn’t walk on the crutches easily. She never realized how often she was up and down throughout the day, and on her feet. Her usual mood of kindness, caring, and patience had long evaporated. The incessant headache and throbbing ankle kept her from being her normal self.
The days passed by without much change. Spencer chauffeured her everywhere, and she hobbled about, trying to keep her frustration at bay. She felt less annoyed, but grew more confused as the days went by. Who would have done this to her? The question often arose during the oddest moments, and at the oddest times.
A week later, she looked up after hearing loud voices that shattered her curious thoughts as she filled in a patient’s chart. Puzzled by the disturbance, Erica hobbled out of her office, only to find Roy Bennett in the waiting room. He was the source of the loud talking and his arms were moving vigorously about.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Bennett, Dr. Heathersby is with a patient, and she can’t see you right now.”
“I don’t care if she’s up the Queen of England’s pants, I want to see her at once.”
Erica hobbled forward. “Roy, calm down. What’s going on?”
Roy turned around. His face was flushed, and his eyes flashed in anger at her. Erica stepped back, rather surprised. She’d never seen Roy so furious before. His fists were clenched tightly, and his mouth was contorted into a weird expression.
“What’s going on!? I just returned from the police station after being interrogated about you!”
Erica’s eyes widened. “What?”
“You heard me. You must have told them about me or why else would they think I attacked you?”
“I didn’t tell them about you, Roy. And I had no idea you would be questioned.”
“Questioned? Try accused, Erica. I was accused, apparently because I saw that pamphlet about you. What better way to get back at me than fuck me over as you seem to think I did to you?”
Erica breathed slowly, in and out, as she stood up straighter. Everyone’s eyes were fastened on them. She felt the heat of her cheeks reddening and could not believe Roy would act like that. She opened her mouth to answer him, but Spencer unexpectedly came from behind her without a word. He took Roy’s arm and said in a low tone, “I suggest you come into the doc’s office, and shut the fuck up. This is her place of business.”
Roy looked up as he shoved Spencer away, pulling his arm from his grasp. But Roy complied with Spencer’s command after a moment or two when he lost their stare-down contest. Roy always was a wimp, Erica concluded. He almost knocked her down when he passed by her and Spencer followed, however he put his elbow out for her, and she smiled appreciatively. She took it and hobbled after Roy into her office before collapsing onto her desk chair.
Spencer shut the door, and stepped into the office, standing before her desk with his arms crossed. Erica was startled when he stayed, and surprised at his stance. He almost looked like her body guard.
“You can leave now,” Roy said, glaring.
“No. I don’t think so.”
“What are you? Her trained pit bull?”
Spencer’s jaw clenched. Shut up, Roy. Didn’t he see the fury in Spencer’s eyes? She did. And she’d seen it before. She knew what he could do when he got mad. And he was well beyond mad right now.
“Fuck you,” Spencer finally said, lowering his arms and clenching his fists.
“Both of you, knock it off. Roy, particularly you. Now, if you’re ready to talk to me like an adult, I’ll listen.”
Roy took a breath, and finally assessed Erica’s appearance, starting with her head, and traveling down to her bandaged leg. The color in Roy’s face began to fade. “You were actually attacked?”
“Yes, I was.”
Roy fidgeted and ran a hand restlessly through his hair. “I’m sorry. I was angry. I guess, I thought you made the whole thing up.”
“No. Someone knocked me down the stairs.”
“I’m sorry. But it sure as hell wasn’t me.”
“I never said it was. Not once. The police asked all kinds of questions about my life, including boyfriends, recent break-ups, and all my patients… everything. I answered their questions. I never once pointed a finger at you. In fact, it never even crossed my mind that it might have been you.”
“Well, the cops came to the hospital, and almost strong-armed me to leave right then to discuss a private matter. The nosy onlookers thought I’d done something wrong.”
“I appreciate that, but I didn’t tell them to. I’m sorry.”
Spencer suddenly moved forward, and sat on the edge of her desk. She glanced his way. He kept so silent, she almost forgot he was there.
“Grow up, asshole. They questioned every man with access to the doc’s life, especially you, me, and the preacher, because we had firsthand knowledge of that crappy pamphlet.”
She glanced swiftly at Spencer. “They questioned you? You never mentioned that.”
Spencer shrugged. “It wasn’t a big deal. Just routine. I’d have been angry if they hadn’t bothered to question me; they have a job to do.” Then, addressing Roy, he added, “I certainly saw no need for you to yell at the victim in her place of work.”
Roy squirmed. “I didn’t know she was a victim.”
Spencer leveled a look at him and Erica shivered. She hoped to never be on the business side of Spencer’s wrath. “Yes, you did. They told you. Just look at her hobble around and you can see for yourself. Unless, of course, you’re just angry because they’re sniffing a little too close to you.”
“How dare you accuse me!”
Spencer shifted his eyes from Roy, as if dismissing him. “I remember now why I never liked you.”
“You low-class, spic. I knew all the while I dated her, you were sniffing around. I always knew. But you know what? No matter what you do, you’ll never be good enough for her, will you? You’ll always be her errand boy.”
Spencer sat there, and his expression seemed lazy. He didn’t react, but Erica did. She stood up on one foot.
“That’s enough! You’ve been the source of too much drama in my life today. I was sorry you were embarrassed by the police investigation, but now, I hope you were humiliated! And in front of every other doctor you know. Just get out of my office, you two-timing, piece of shit.”
Roy stood up and his expression darkened as he turned on his heel and exited Erica’s office, leaving Erica standing, staring, and fuming. Only after the door slammed did she glance over at Spencer.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. Calling Spencer a low-class spic was about as tasteless as Roy could get.
“You should be. Sorry that you ever dated such an overbearing, conceited asshole.”
“Yes, well, I think I’ve paid for that in spades.” Erica sat back down, and glanced at Spencer again. “They really questioned you about the attack?”
“
Sure. It’s standard. I knew about the pamphlet. I was here at the office. Stands to reason I’d be questioned.”
“You should have told me. I’d have explained how ridiculous it was. For one, the assailant wasn’t nearly as tall as you.”
Spencer slid off her desk and shrugged. “It wasn’t that big of a deal. I would wonder though, why old Roy got so upset, that he would vocalize his displeasure so loudly over the incident. He did know about the pamphlet, and he is shorter than me.”
Erica stared at him, her mind now reeling. “You can’t be serious. You don’t really think that Roy could have done this to me? He cheated on me, not vice versa. He couldn’t have been that heartbroken over my dumping him.”
“Maybe. But you did dump him. His ego probably couldn’t accept that. He thought he could eat his cake, and date you too. Losing you wasn’t something he ever envisioned.”
“Still... to attack me? No, I can’t believe that.”
Spencer turned to leave. “Yeah, I know you can’t. But someone attacked you. It had to be someone. Don’t forget that for a second.”
Erica stared after the door closed. Why did Roy react so violently over being questioned by the police? Could he have hurt her? No… she couldn’t see Roy doing that to her. Spencer’s parting words rang through her head: Someone attacked her and inflicted bodily harm. But who? And, more importantly, why?
Chapter Eleven
Monday, two weeks after the attack, there were still no leads, much less, a viable suspect responsible for attacking her in the stairwell. Her ankle was practically healed, although she hobbled around a little still, and it ached after spending all day on it.
The morning started off routine enough. There was nothing beyond the norm. She dealt with a urinary tract infection, a pre-natal visit, a six-week post C-section follow-up, and miscellaneous paperwork.
When the phone rang at one o’clock with an emergency call from Seattle City Hospital, it was about Erica’s favorite patient, Beth Carson.
Beth had been trying for ten years to get pregnant. Her husband, Quinn, and she took every fertility test available. They even consulted multiple fertility specialists, many of whom were referred by Erica. They even tried not to get pregnant, and just move forward, childless. But eventually, the urge for a baby resurfaced and they tried again. There was no medical explanation or diagnosis any doctor could suggest as to why they couldn’t conceive, so they continued trying, despite the preceding decade without any success.
Then one day, Beth came into Erica’s office pregnant! Erica bumped her previously scheduled patients to squeeze Beth in. Sure enough, she was pregnant, and doing quite well for the five-week-old fetus. Nothing indicated that she would have any problem carrying the baby to term. Beth wasn’t even high-risk, now that she was pregnant. All went well right into Beth’s eighth month of pregnancy. Until nine o’clock on Monday morning.
Erica gripped the phone tighter when she heard that Beth was in the ICU. Beth’s car got T-boned on her way to work, and Beth was brain dead. She was being kept alive strictly by machines and there was no hope for her recovery.
Miraculously, however, the baby was uninjured. That’s all Erica heard, although the nurse told her Beth’s husband was out of town, and en route. She inquired if Erica could come to the hospital immediately after he arrived, as decisions had to be made regarding the baby.
Erica hung up slowly and her fingertips went numb. Her heart began fluttering erratically and her mind spun with so many thoughts and images, she felt like she might fall over. Oh God! No! Fate couldn’t be that cruel to such a lovely couple. They did everything right. They didn’t cheat on each other, drink, or do drugs. They just wanted to have a healthy baby. And now? Now, Beth was virtually gone without ever knowing the joys of childbirth. Erica knew Beth well, and held her hand while trying to encourage her throughout the ten long, torturous years of trying to have this child.
She sat down on her office couch, now feeling completely numb. She ignored the phone beeping at her as well as the knocking on her office door. She was utterly frozen in grief. Not just because she was Beth’s doctor, but also her friend.
And now she was being asked to physically remove Beth’s baby from her comatose body. Erica shivered. God, this day was one when she hated, loathed, and despised her job. When her days were good, they were the best. When they were bad, nothing could be worse. She dealt with life and death on a regular basis. She’d seen cancer in young women, and wonderfully healthy babies, along with stillborns, and deformed or brain-damaged newborns. If she focused on the magnitude of grief that she felt on the bad days, it could have almost kept her from coming in at all.
But she did come in. Every day. And faced it. She hardly ever lost her cool, or her ability to separate her emotions from common sense. Except now. Right now, she couldn’t. But she had to and tonight.
She huddled on the couch, curling her legs up under her arms. She laid her head on her arms, until she was a tight ball and cried long and hard.
She asked herself once more why she chose to dedicate her entire life to a profession that so often dealt with heartbreak.
“Doc?”
Erica jerked her head up at hearing Spencer’s voice. It was spoken very quietly and so kind. The tone was different from any he used before with her. She wiped her eyes with both hands, and sniffed. He was standing right there before her. How did he get into her locked office? And how did she not hear him?
“What is it, Spencer?”
“You didn’t hear the knocking? Or your name? Or the phone? Everyone’s concerned about you. They had me pry the door open, because only you have a key, it seems. You didn’t hear any of that?”
She actually hadn’t heard any of the commotion. “No.”
“They were worried something must’ve happened to you. You missed one of your appointments already. You never do that. Not even after you were attacked. What’s going on?”
“Just leave me alone.”
Her head dropped back onto her knees. She felt too exhausted to keep up the façade, and too tired to pretend she was okay. He stood over her and she sensed the tension in his body. He didn’t know what to do with her. She was never like this. So naturally, she didn’t know what to do either.
Finally, she looked up, anger simmering in her eyes. “Look, I get what you meant about me not leaving you alone about your choices in life. You don’t have to reciprocate. I get it now. Please, just leave.”
“Seems to me that being alone won’t help you now.”
“It’s exactly what will help me now. There’s nothing you can do. Or say. Not that you would anyway. You don’t have the first idea of how to be sympathetic or show compassion. So, please, get out.”
Erica got up and stomped towards the door to open it.
He followed her and stared at her hard. His gaze started at her forehead and traveled down her entire body, with no detail overlooked. She turned away and her shoulders dropped in defeat. She finally whispered, “Please, just leave.”
He nodded. “You’re right. I don’t have a clue of what to say to make you feel better.”
He stepped nearer her, and she turned towards him. She glanced up, feeling tired, heartsick, and rather surprised when she found him so close to her. Suddenly, Spencer was all around her, as he shut the office door with one hand, pushing her against it. His body blocked her. Then his hand touched her shoulder and brushed her hair back.
“Lock the door, Doc,” he said softly. His voice was in her ear, and his tone very low and gentle as he whispered. She could have done anything she wanted. She could open the door and order him to leave; but instead, she swallowed, and held his gaze. He pinned her with his dark, insolent stare. Fumbling her fingers as she groped for the doorknob behind her back, she did lock it. The click of the lock seemed to echo through the room, lingering in her brain, and moving through her entire body.
He ran his hand down her arm, gripping hers and pushing it against the door. His other hand
ran up her torso, slowly and with surprising warmth. She could feel the heat of his hand radiating through the silk of her blouse. He found the hem of her mint green blouse and slid the button out slowly, then the next, and so on, until he finally placed his hand through the open gap of her blouse and cupped her breast. His callused hand caught on the synthetic fabric of her bra and grazed her erect nipple. The effect was shocking and the electric jolts suddenly shot down into her stomach. His large, warm hand was surprisingly gentle. His fingertips tenderly tugged on her hard nipple again. Back and forth, he rubbed and tugged. His gentle caress seemed tentative, as if he were waiting to see her reaction. She froze and her breath soon became short, hot, pants for air. He moved his fingers harder and faster in response and her breath caught. Then her legs shifted and her whole body became alive.
Releasing her hand, his fingers descended her body to the hemline of her skirt. Of all days, she chose a skirt to wear today. Who knew? Certainly not she. Never. Not like this. Not in her office. But God help her, she was powerless to stop him. She couldn’t imagine wanting to stop him.
His hand was on the outside of her bare thigh, slowly sliding toward her inner thigh. His fingers traveled up one side and down the next. He was exciting her skin’s cells, bringing a flurry of pleasurable sensations. She was blushing and tingling everywhere. Even aching in some places. Suddenly, his hand moved upwards, nestling between her thighs, and stopping at her panties. He rubbed his fingers against them and the heat he kindled inside her moistened his fingertips. He rubbed back and forth faster, with feather-light pressure, driving her crazy with anticipation. His fingers made her even hotter, and she felt a hardness pressing into her gut.
His other hand circled her waist, and turned her around, pulling her backwards until she was flush to his body. Her back against his front, her butt resting between his muscular thighs. She could feel him getting longer and hotter as he pressed himself against her.
His hand returned to her other breast, and he pushed her bra out of the way, suddenly touching her bare skin. Her nerve endings went wild and exploded as he pulled and pushed against her. His other hand returned to the edge of her panties, before he finally dipped two fingers inside her. She was burning hot and slick with wetness. Practically pulsating. Never having felt so hot, or turned on, in her entire life, she could hardly stand it.
