Zenith Rising (Zenith Trilogy, #2)

by Leanne Davis

  Preacher swallowed a gulp, but hastily started speaking. “About a year or so ago, we had a young lady join our prayer group on Thursdays. She seemed quite broken and racked with guilt. She was a mess, because she’d had an abortion. I, of course, counseled her, while trying to convince her that if she confessed her sins, God would forgive her. She only had to accept the light of Jesus into her heart.”

  Spencer let out an audible sigh. “Get on with it, Preacher. We don’t believe you care that much about your congregation, beyond, of course, what you get from them in donations,” Spencer said rudely.

  Preacher glared back at Spencer before returning his attention to Erica as if Spencer had never spoken. “So, as I was saying, I counseled her and we prayed together for her soul. And in time, I got to know her fairly well. We became close. She finally told me about you. She’s the one who gave me your name, and knew all about you.”

  “Who was it?”

  “Tamira Tobison.”

  Spencer reacted visibly and so did Erica. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

  “I didn’t realize that she worked for you until recently. She came in, looking again for guidance, as I’m sure you heard about her latest tragedy. Anyway, she mentioned you, and I finally figured out she works for you. I thought she was long over you. When she first started telling me about her problems, all she could focus on was you. And how angry she was at you for insisting she get the abortion.”

  “I didn’t force her. I didn’t even try to convince her to have it.”

  “Well, whatever took place, I think it’s now quite clear, she blamed you. That’s why she wanted me to try and show you the light.”

  Puzzle pieces started to line up in Erica’s mind. “She directed you to me? She wanted you to save me?”

  “Yes. And then I met you, and I thought I could.”

  Spencer bristled and opened his mouth to speak, but Erica gave him a scathing look.

  “And now?”

  “Now I fear she’s punishing you in ways I can’t condone. Prayer, consultation, enlightenment, those are the methods we use. I don’t agree with any violence. Ever. I have no proof of anything. It’s just a feeling, but I thought you should have the information.”

  Erica thought she should too. “Yes. Thank you, Mr. Ortiss. It’s certainly a revelation.”

  “I hope that explains the urgency and why I nearly barged in here.”

  “Yes. But you’ll have to understand how I feel. What you did to me with that pamphlet isn’t something I’m going to forget in this lifetime. So, you’re not welcome here simply because I don’t trust you.”

  Preacher nodded and his face fell as he tucked his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “I just wanted…”

  “I don’t want whatever you think you need to show me. Now, please, you’ll have to excuse me. Thank you for the information. If you have anything else to say, please call first.”

  Preacher left with his shoulders slumped in shame. Erica watched him leave with her lips pressed tightly in disapproval. Finally, the door shut and Erica went around her desk to where Spencer still sat. Sitting down on his lap, before he could guess what she intended, he jerked reflexively, in surprise. Then he lifted his arms to fit around her waist. Erica leaned her face onto his collarbone, relishing his arms around her, and appreciating his strong, intimidating presence, and all for her. She even liked his scary scowl, because it was also for her.

  “What do you think of that?” Erica finally asked.

  “I think you’d better pass it along to the police, and have them interrogate both the preacher and Tamira. I think it’s all too much of a coincidence.”

  “I can’t believe Tamira would intend to harm me physically. Besides, I know that was not a woman who hit me in the stairwell. And certainly could not have been as small as she is.”

  “She might not have done it; but she might know who did.”

  “Can you really believe her?”

  Spencer sighed. “Doc, she’s definitely crazy. I’m sorry to sound insensitive, but she’s certifiably crazy, delusional, and paranoid. She has a sick attachment to you, and maybe a perverse hatred that you have everything and are everything that she lacks.”

  “She hasn’t been to work since the pregnancy. I doubt, somehow, she’ll be back. She’s confused and hurt. Maybe I’m an easy target for her. I still can’t believe she’d intentionally try to hurt me.”

  Spencer was quiet. Then he said, “But you took me away from her. And for whatever insane reason, she insisted on believing I wanted her. Even though I didn’t. Never did. That couldn’t have gone down too easily for her. The one person she needed the most was you, and you stole the one guy she really thought she loved.”

  “But we weren’t together then.”

  “She’s not stupid; she saw it between us.”

  “How could she? I didn’t?”

  “I guess she saw it in me then.”

  Erica stilled in his arms and shifted to look up into his eyes. “What, Spencer? What did she see in you?”

  He smiled down at her. “That I had the hots for you.”

  Erica nearly screeched with frustration. Why couldn’t he say more? She got up, suddenly feeling testy and annoyed. “I have to get back to work.”

  Spencer grabbed her hand. “Okay, okay, Tamira saw I had more than the hots for you and it bothered her a lot.”

  She raised her brows at him. “And it bothers you a lot.”

  “Yeah, Doc and it bothers me a lot.”

  “Why? Why does liking me bother you?”

  He tapped a finger on the chair’s armrest. “Because it’s so new for me.”

  She grumbled. “Well, get over it. It’s good. We are good together. Why can’t you just realize that?”

  “Why don’t you realize how easily someone could hurt you again? And knowing that someone wants to?”

  “Don’t you think you’re overreacting with the preacher’s gossip?”

  “No. I don’t. You’re the one who doesn’t react enough to stay safe. You trust everyone, anyone, even now. Even after being viciously attacked here at work! What don’t you get about this situation?”

  “I called you, didn’t I?”

  He smiled. “Yeah. You did. That’s a start.”

  She stared, still annoyed. “I have to work tonight.”

  “And…”

  She let out a long, frustrated breath. “And so I can’t come over or vice versa.”

  “I didn’t know we had plans.”

  She slammed down a pile of papers. “You’re such a clueless jackass sometimes.”

  He threw his hands up in surrender and smiled, which infuriated her more. “I’m probably guilty of that. And worse.”

  “That doesn’t forgive it,” she said, grabbing her stethoscope, intent on passing him without another word, look, or touch. He stepped in front of her.

  “Be careful. Have someone walk you to and from the parking lot, or the hospital if I’m not around. I mean it.”

  “Why is my safety the only thing that gets you all up in arms about me?”

  He reached out, putting his hand behind her head, and pulled her forward. His mouth came over her lips. “Just promise me.”

  She sighed and closed her eyes. His presence literally took her breath away. “Fine. I promise.”

  “And you’ll call the police about the preacher’s inside information?”

  “I will.” She stepped around him and grabbed the door handle, glancing over her shoulder. “Hey, Spencer? Maybe you should put as much thought into being my boyfriend as you do in being my body guard.”

  ****

  It wasn’t until four in the morning when Erica finally finished her shift at the hospital. She was exhausted. Her mind kept drifting to what the preacher said. She kept pondering how Tamira became involved in the situation and the weird dolls. Why someone would physically assault her. And of course, Spencer. Although lately, he was first and foremost on her mind.

&nbs
p; Quickly crossing the parking garage, she broke her word to Spencer, and got inside her car with no problems. She refused to be as paranoid, or distrustful as Spencer was. Careful she could be, but not paranoid.

  It was dark outside still. She was wired, but also tired and hungry. She didn’t want to go home into her dark, lifeless condo. She wanted to go home to someone. That’s what she wanted more than anything. She wanted to go home to Spencer Mattox.

  The realization startled her, then possessed her, and finally, thrilled her. Heading across town, in the opposite direction from her condo, she drove to Spencer’s house.

  The house was dark. She entered the garage code and the electric opener lifted the door. She hoped the loud rumbling wouldn’t wake Rob or Spencer. She just wanted to go inside and crawl into bed with Spencer. Not to be alone.

  The house was silent and shadowy, and no one seemed to stir at her entrance. She crept as quietly as she could towards Spencer room, slipping her shoes off to keep her heels from clicking on the hardwood floors. She opened his door, still receiving no response. She slipped in and found him sound asleep, as silent in sleep as he was awake, she realized. On his back, the covers twisted around his waist, as he breathed steadily. Her heart swelled with happiness at the mere sight of him. She slipped off her slacks, leaving on just her tank top, and climbed into bed. She wanted only to sleep, she was so worn out. Finally, starting to relax, she scooted closer to absorb some of Spencer’s radiant warmth. Just as her skin made contact, she was suddenly attacked.

  Spencer, in the blink of an eye, rolled over on top of her, pinning her wrists together with one hand, while his other hand gripped her throat. His body weight crushed her, and his knees pressed into her legs, rendering her immobile. She cried out in startled panic and pain at his harsh grasp. His unbelievably frightening grip at the most vulnerable part of her throat terrified her.

  His eyes were on hers, but seemed totally unfocused.

  “It’s Erica,” she tried to gasp out.

  He pressed harder.

  Panicking with terror, she twisted her body frantically and tried to get out from under his weight. “Spencer! Please, wake up! It’s me. It’s Erica!”

  He blinked and finally seemed to realize where and who he was. As quickly as he pinned her, he suddenly released her. He let her wrists go and rolled off before sitting up and running a hand over his face, and through his hair.

  “Jesus! Erica, you can’t do that. You scared the living shit out of me.” His voice sounded gravelly, and confused still.

  “I scared you?” Erica repeated, her jaw dropping. He held her in a death grip, simply because she scared him? She was shaking uncontrollably, while still trying to get over the shock of being physically manhandled by the very man she only wanted to cuddle up next to.

  “What are you doing here?” Spencer asked, lifting his head and glancing at the clock. “Christ, it’s only four-thirty.”

  “I got off early. I didn’t want to go home and be alone.”

  “How’d you get in?”

  “I know your garage door code. I’m sorry. I made a mistake.” She sat up, scrabbling towards the side of the bed.

  “Wait,” he said, grabbing her hand, this time more gently. “Just wait. Give me a second. I was just surprised. You don’t have to leave.”

  She felt so ill at ease, she didn’t know what to do. Scooting back towards him, she rested against the headboard and drew her knees up to her chest.

  She swallowed and whispered, “What was that?”

  “What? I don’t know. I woke up and knew someone was in here. I didn’t think, I just reacted. I have to admit, my first thought wasn’t that it might have been you.”

  “Spencer, you had me pinned down. Your fingers were tight and choking me.”

  She felt his fingers touching her neck and he looked suddenly sick. “Are you okay?”

  She stared, and her mouth hung open. Was she okay? She was totally at a loss and completely freaked out. But she was mostly scared by what she’d seen, and his instinctive reaction to the possibility of any threat.

  “No. Not so much.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said at last. “Look, I spent a few years on the street. Didn’t always know what was coming at me all the time. I became a light sleeper, just to be ready for the worst.”

  She stared into his face, but he turned from her. Her heart heaved and fluttered in her chest with emotion. “No. I’m sorry. It never occurred to me.”

  “Of course, it shouldn’t occur to you! Why should I try to attack you just for startling me?” he said, his voice sounding sarcastic as his eyes glared at her. Then he looked away, shaking his head.

  He lay back down and flipped over onto his stomach. She stared at his broad, smooth back and her heart beat faster. She came closer, and stretched out beside him. Putting her arms around the broad expanse of his shoulders, she buried her face in his hair, and breathed deeply. Inhaling slowly, she asked, “Who did it, Spencer?”

  “Who did what?” His entire body went rigid and his voice was muffled into his pillow.

  “Who hurt you? Who was it?”

  He went completely still. So perfectly still, she wondered if he would get up and throw her off him. Kick her out. Refuse to answer her. And maybe never see her again. She didn’t know. It was a long moment, which she knew could go either way with him. He’d open up to her, or end it right then.

  “I’m not stupid, Spencer. I know at age thirteen, something big made you run away with Rob and never go back. Something bad must’ve happened. You just about attacked me for sneaking into your bed without any warning. God, baby, I know what that means. Was it your father?”

  Silence. He shifted and shook her off his back.

  “Couldn’t be. Never knew Jose.”

  Erica sat up straight. He answered her. Softly, she asked, “Jose was your father?”

  “I have no idea. Even my mother never knew his name. Never saw him more than the few hours it took to fuck and conceive me. Obviously, Jose was a spic, and my poor, pretty, blond-haired mother was stuck raising me.”

  She ignored his language. He was sitting with his feet on the ground and his elbows resting on his knees. His head hung down so she couldn’t see any of his face. She touched his back with only her fingertips and asked again, “Who was it? A stepfather?”

  Silence. Heavy. Chilling. Erica shivered. She felt sick inside.

  Finally he mumbled, “Stepbrother.”

  Erica let out a breath of anguish. Disbelief. Grief. He told her. He admitted the reason and what his action so clearly showed. She shut her eyes in mental pain for Spencer. She knew it, didn’t she? She’d always sensed he was abused as a child. She didn’t know the details. It could have been physically, verbally, sexually or through neglect, but she noticed the signs that he suffered from abuse. She understood how indelible and tragic it must have been to have twisted him all up so much emotionally, he practically attacked anyone who tried to breach his defenses.

  “How old were you?”

  “Twelve.”

  He shuddered under her hand and suddenly got up, shaking her off him. He nervously paced around the room.

  “Spencer?” she asked quietly.

  “I couldn’t stop it. He was eighteen and weighed twice as much as I did.”

  Erica stood up, tears filling her eyes. Spencer stopped pacing. He placed his hands onto the dresser, as he leaned over it and stared down, his shoulders hunched. She rubbed his shoulders, with gentle, caring hands, trying to pour her heartfelt compassion into him. She pressed into his back, her tears falling on his bare back and he stiffened when he felt her.

  “I love you,” she said quietly. Sincerely. To his back. To his soul. To his warped, dark soul that told him he didn’t deserve or need love. Especially her love. But he did. She was sure of that one thing.

  Turning suddenly, he shoved her hands off him. “I can’t do this. I can’t sit here and tell you all this shit. I don’t want your pity or your mis
guided attempts to save me. I can’t fucking do this. Any of this.”

  He pushed her out of his way and grabbed a pair of jeans, and a shirt before leaving the room. A few moments later, Erica heard a car start, then the tires screeching out of the driveway. She stood there, stunned. He left. He left her there alone. He just walked out on her.

  Chapter Twenty

  Erica shook herself and grabbed her slacks. She slipped them on and glanced out the window, finding some solace.

  Spencer took off in her car.

  She received a little comfort in that. If he wanted her to leave, he’d have taken his own car and not stranded her there. Even if he were too messed up and upset to know what he’d done or why. She knew, inside her very soul, that he loved her, and wanted her in his life. He needed her in his life, and had to tell her everything that happened. He wanted her to know and understand every black, dark hole in his psyche that used any opportunity to consume him. He wanted her to fill that black hole up with her love. He just didn’t know what to do about it. And now that she was willing to stay, he didn’t know how to handle it.

  Erica walked down the hall to the last door and knocked, hoping that Rob would be in there and alone. Rob answered, buck-naked, but for a pillow he held over his privates. She smiled. Rob blanched, looking startled and embarrassed to find her there.

  “Shit, Doc, I thought it was just Spencer. Just a minute,” he said, backing behind the door. After the last half hour, seeing Rob’s sudden embarrassment of being caught naked was funny.

  “I need to talk to you.”

  “It’s five o’clock. Can’t this wait?”

  “No.”

  “Where’s Spencer?”

  “He left. Please, Rob, just get dressed. I need to talk to you right now.”

  “Okay,” he said, hiding behind his partially closed door. “Do you think we could have coffee first? I’m still a little fuzzy.”

  Erica spun around. “Fine, we’ll talk while we have coffee. Just hurry up.”

  Erica had the lights on, the drapes open, and coffee made by the time Rob came down, fully dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. His hair was damp, and his eyes were still heavy from sleeping. She slid him a cup of coffee as she sat down next to him at the bar.