“I told him not to do that to that baby,” Porsha lied. Pete turned to look at her with accusing eyes. “I could have told you he wasn’t a good father. He sure as hell isn’t with our own kids,” she continued, diverting her eyes to the floor. Pete walked further in the house, the entryway, the living room, looking around for Roger. “He must be out hiding somewhere because of what he did to that poor baby. When I saw him with the cigarette I tried to stop him, but he pushed me away.” She went on with her well-constructed lie off the top of her head, as she watched Pete search her house.
“Tell that punk that I’m looking for him,” Pete snarled after he walked back in front of her. His hands fisted at his side. He looked at her with contempt. He half believed what she’d just told him and the fact that she was a woman was the only thing stopping him from hurling her across the room. He wouldn’t allow anyone to get away with hurting Carl. And if Porsha had in fact played a role in hurting him she would pay in another way. Carlisha left Carl for him to take care of, and he’d be damned if he stood back and allow anyone to hurt the child that helped give him his life back, his faith in God back.
Pete marched out of the house still heaving and needing badly to smash the heck out of something to help settle the twitching in his fists. Just as he was about to open the door to his car, Roger’s car pulled up in the driveway. Jaw clenched, Pete stood and surprised himself as he watched patiently as Roger exited his car and walked toward him. Porsha had already closed the front door after Pete left.
Roger was surprised to see Pete at his house, but since Porsha already found out today about him having visits with Carl, which he’d planned to deal with as soon as he got in the house, he didn’t suspect any other problems with Pete’s appearance at his home. Other than the fact that he’d promised Pete he wouldn’t bring Carl there in the first place in case Porsha tried something stupid, which Roger suspected she did.
Before Roger could say anything to him, Pete lunged at him, hitting him square in the jaw with his fist. Roger stumbled back, pain throbbing in his jaw as he tried to regain his balance. Roger, stumped over, barreled into Pete knocking him against his car. Pete’s back shot with pain from the impact. The last time he had a physical fight was when he was in high school. He wasn’t old at forty-eight, but his body wasn’t in top shape as it was when he was in his teens and twenties, and he was sure Roger surpassed him in the muscles department, but his rage was what carried his stamina.
“Wha… what the hell is going on man?” Roger asked through deep breaths as he and Pete went back and forth blows for blows.
Porsha watched from the window. She’d just hung up the phone with her mother that asked when she was coming to pick up her kids. Porsha told her it wouldn’t be for a couple more hours. She saw the men both holding their own as they fought, she didn’t know what to do. Calling the police wasn’t an option. This is why Roger shouldn’t have brought that damn baby in my house! She swore under her breath. But her old nosey neighbor across the street was sure to dial 911 if the men didn’t stop fighting soon. What to do, what to do?
“You burnt Carl with a cigarette and you thought I wasn’t going to find out!?” Pete snarled. Roger pushed away from Pete and stepped back a few feet, giving them both a chance to catch their breaths as they stared at each other bloody and bruised. “I should’ve NEVER agreed to you seeing him,” Pete heaved taking in large gulps of air.
Roger’s own rage changed then, now knowing what Porsha in fact had done to his son. I’m gonna kill that bi… His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of police sirens, then a Charles County Police cruiser parked in front of the driveway. Two uniformed officers exited the vehicle and approached Roger and Pete.
“What is going on here gentleman?” one of the male officers asked.
“This man hurt my son!” Pete stated pointing at Roger. Blood stained his light blue jacket. He had a black eye that ached even more every time he blinked. “He burnt my son with a cigarette,” Pete continued.
“I didn’t hurt my son!” Roger shouted. He held his jaw with his hand in an attempt to ease some of the throbbing pain. It was already swollen, black and blue.
Both officers were confused as they looked back and forth between Pete and Roger. “Whose son is it?” the second officer asked for clarification.
“MINE!” both Pete and Roger answered in unison.
The officers shook their heads still completely confused.
“Where is the child?” The first officer asked.
“He’s safe at home. Child protective services are being called and I asked Debra to call his pediatrician…” Pete answered before being cut off.
“Who is Debra?”
“She’s… she’s Carl’s godmother. Carl is the name of my son –”
“He’s my SON!” Roger roared.
“Okay we’re going to have to take you both down to the station to get this all sorted out,” the second officer stated losing his patience.
Porsha continued to watch the scene outside from the window. She was afraid to go out there, afraid of what would happen next as she watched the two officers talking to Pete and Roger. After almost being accused for Carlisha’s death, the last thing she needed or wanted was to get caught up with the law again. She cursed Roger repeatedly for getting them in the predicament to begin with. He should have never messed around with Carlisha, stupid prick! Remorse for burning Carl with the cigarette never registered as an emotion in her heart as she frightfully watched the men outside. Her mind raced with possible schemes she would need to use to clear her name.
Chapter 49
“CPS is going to thoroughly investigate the matter before they will do anything else. Damn protocol! In the main time Roger sure as hell won’t be around Carl,” Pete growled into the phone. Debra sat at the kitchen island sipping coffee from a mug as she watched him. “Yes Leah, I will keep you updated. Okay… no you guys don’t have to come back early from your trip… Alright. Bye.” Pete pressed off on the cordless phone then rest it loudly on the counter. The horrific events of yesterday still clouding his mind: Debra’s call about Carl being burned, Pete slamming his fist in Roger’s jaw, the cops showing up; going to the police station, meeting with CPS agent, Carl’s pediatrician confirming that Carl was burnt by a cigarette. Pete wanted to kill Roger.
Debra sighed loudly. She too was remembering yesterday’s events. She barely got any sleep last night. She stayed in Carl’s nursery and watched him light a hawk all night, afraid something terrible would happen to him while he slept peacefully.
“You okay?” Pete asked, knowing that was a dumb question. The bags under Debra’s eyes were a key giveaway to her distress. Heck he wasn’t feeling much better himself. He’d called James at Minute Print earlier that morning and told him that he and Debra wouldn’t be in that day. He hadn’t realized until after the call what that may have insinuated to his staff, but he had greater issues to deal with regarding Carl’s safety.
“Hmmm,” Debra murmured shaking her head as she took another sip of coffee. Her long natural red hair was tied up in a knot on the top of her head. She’d managed to take a hot shower and changed into jeans and a t-shirt that morning. It was eleven-thirty in the morning. Carl was down napping since he’d waken up at six-thirty.
Even with the bags under her eyes Pete saw her as a sight for sore eyes. Her concern for Carl only made him love her more. Love? He couldn’t believe that thought – that feeling was even present in his heart, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t suspected it. But he pushed it aside. “Thank you for everything you did yesterday—”
“Pete, you don’t have to thank me. Of course I would be here for Carl, he’s my godson,” Debra interrupted him, waving him off with her hand. “I just wish none of this had happened.” Her anger showed in the form of tears rolling from her eyes. “How could someone hurt an innocent child like that? How could Roger do that to his own son?”
“Shhhh. I know the bastard won’t be coming anywhere n
ear Carl again,” Pete declared as he pulled Debra into him for a hug. He held her tightly, thankful that she hadn’t resisted his nearness. He inhaled the fruity scent of her hair as her head rested on his chest. He rubbed her back trying to soothe her. She felt so right in his arms, he didn’t think he would feel anything like that ever again. “Everything is going to be fine. Carl is safe,” he promised.
Debra nodded her head. She felt comforted immediately in his strong arms. She forgot about not allowing her feelings for him get in the way of her mission of self-preservation. She inhaled his masculine scent and wished that their embrace would last a lifetime. In his arms was where she wanted to be – always. Her heart began to race at her mental declaration. Falling for this man would give me more grief than none. Besides not wanting to have her heart broken again by a man, Rachel greatly disapproved of any romantic relationship between them. The last thing Debra wanted was to create any rift in Pete’s bond with his deceased wife’s family. But how much longer can I hide or suppress my feelings? She sighed internally.
“Thank you!” Debra said, looking up into Pete’s piercing blue eyes.
“For what?”
“For loving Carl and protecting him. Carlisha made the right choice having you as guardian.”
Pete couldn’t resist himself. For weeks she’d stopped him from bringing up the fact that they’d slept together. He wanted her to know that it meant more to him than just a onetime thing, and he would love to have her as his wife so they could partake in it again, and again… He was a man of old-school traditions. Faith. He believed in the sanctity of sex in the marriage bed and although it didn’t start that way for them, that was where he wanted it to occur the next time. But his feelings for her would frighten her – he was sure of it. It sure frightened him, which is why he’d been struggling with it for so long. Pete lifted her chin, dipped his head and captured her mouth with his. The kiss was sweet and intense and said everything they both were afraid to reveal. They made love with their mouths, savoring every second.
“I love you!” Pete confessed with a murmur. The doorbell rang interrupting their intimate moment. Pete reluctantly released Debra’s lips. The astonished look on her face told him that she’d heard what he said. But the insistent ringing of the doorbell crushed their moment. Pete turned and left the kitchen. Debra stood there with her heart pounding at the speed of a train, she was stunned in disbelief, watching as he walked away. His words of “I love you” made rotations in her mind.
Pete fought to rein in his temper. He was sure his blood pressure had risen to a point that it was an immediate health risk. He bit hard on his bottom lip, the cuss words trying to bust loose. His fist clenched tightly at his sides as he looked at Roger standing on his doorstep.
“What. The. HELL are you doing here?” Pete roared. He stepped closer, in Roger’s face daring him to do something stupid. He didn’t care about getting locked up for sure this time. God help him. Roger had some nerve stepping foot in his yard after what happened yesterday.
“Man look,” Roger stepped back a couple steps. He wasn’t in the mood for a fight. And he knew Pete had every right to be pissed. Even though Roger was dressed like he was looking for trouble in dark jeans, dark t-shirt and black leather jacket, he wasn’t. The whole mess with Carl being burnt by a cigarette was crazy enough. So he knew it took a lot of balls showing up at Pete’s house. “I didn’t burn Carl—”
“I’ve had enough of this! I gave you five thousand dollars like you requested so I wouldn’t have to deal with you. Then I agreed to the visitations, but that all ended yesterday. It will be a cold day in hell before I allow you near Carl again!” Pete vowed through gritted teeth. He had to shove his hands in his jeans pockets to help prevent the urge to viciously swing them at Roger. Lord help me!
Roger opened his mouth then shut it. He looked wide-eyed with surprise at Pete. “Five thousand dollars? What the hell are you talking about? I never asked you for money.”
Pete laughed. Not a humorous laugh, but one of lost patience.
“What are you doing here?” Debra asked with disgust from behind the men. She’d heard the commotion coming from the front door while she was still standing awestruck in the kitchen.
Pete turned to her. “Don’t worry. I’m handling it,” Pete said assuredly. “Go check on the baby,” he urged. He didn’t want her there while he talked to Roger, he knew it wasn’t going to be pleasant. Debra stood hesitant, as she looked at Roger with rage radiating off her body. Finally she turned and walked away without another word.
“You better leave now before I call the cops and I’m sure they won’t hesitate putting you behind bars for what happened yesterday.”
“I didn’t burn my son with a cigarette and I sure as hell didn’t ask you for five thousand dollars.” Roger ran his hand over his close-shaved head as he began to pace back and forth on the front porch. “Porsha.” He stopped pacing. He said something explicit under his breath, then looked back at Pete. “She burnt him. When I walked out of the bathroom Carl was screaming and she had a cigarette in her hand. I didn’t even know she was there. Heck I thought she wasn’t going to get there until late that evening. I checked Carl to make sure he was alright, but I didn’t see anything. Any marks. But I knew she did something to him by the way he was crying.” Roger rambled on, pacing back and forth on the porch, as if he was processing the information to himself.
Pete watched Roger suspiciously. He didn’t know if what he was saying was a lie to save himself or if Porsha really was the one that hurt Carl. He didn’t trust either of them at that point. But as he thought about things at that moment, he’d have to admit that he was shocked to hear that Roger had burned Carl with a cigarette, for obvious reasons. However, observing him with Carl over the past weeks he saw that Roger loved and cared for his son, so the child abuse didn’t make sense. He would leave that to CPS and the police to figure out though, because as far as he was concerned Porsha and Roger hurt his child.
“Five thousand dollars. When?” Roger asked after he turned to face Pete again. He shoved in hands in his jeans pockets as a gust of wind blew by.
“Months ago. I received a letter in the mail with instructions on where to leave the cash in a safety deposit box or else you would request for custody,” Pete stated, trying to give Roger the benefit of the doubt. His anger abated slightly.
Roger said something explicit under his breath again. His anger was at a boiling point. He turned his back to Pete and looked toward the street. A couple cars had just passed by, however the neighborhood was relatively quiet on the weekday morning with most people at work or school.
“It could’ve only been Porsha who asked you for that money. I swear I have nothing to do with that.” Roger was trying to figure out how he’d become cursed to be married to the Satan’s daughter. He momentarily forgot his own illegal activities that kept him unwantedly bonded to her. Most of all, the act that caused the death of the wife of the man that stood behind him.
“You really expect me to believe this bull of a story?” Pete stepped on the Porch after closing the front door behind him. “Where was this confession about Porsha burning Carl when we were being questioned at the police station?” Pete clenched and unclenched his jaws as he watched Roger. He internally applauded himself for even giving Roger so much of his time at the moment without ramming his fist to his nose.
Roger knew why he didn’t mention Porsha had something to do with Carl being burnt when they were at the police station. He had too much to risk by throwing her under the bus, but now with the new information he’d received about her going behind his back and swindling money from Pete, not that he was a saint, on top of his knowledge of her burning his son, he could care less of the ramifications of the cops getting a hold of her now. I should have reported her to CPS a long time ago. He thought of the terrible way she mothered her three children. He never made father of the year with them either, but he knew if he laid eyes on her at that very moment he would, wi
thout hesitation, put her out of her, and his, misery. Yeah he was convinced he was cursed to have ever met her.
“I’m gonna take care of this.” Roger took a step off the porch.
“You’re serious? About Porsha?” Pete was still skeptical.
Roger turned to look at Pete after descending all three steps off the porch. “I would never hurt Carl like that,” Roger gritted through his teeth. He was tired of stating his innocence in the matter. He already felt guilty enough from denying the baby and not wanting Carlisha to have him – his only child.
Pete nodded while he watched Roger walk to his car. He ran a hand through his straight dark hair before turning to reenter the house.
“What was that all about?” Debra asked as soon as Pete returned to the kitchen after Roger left. She was still sipping from her coffee mug.
Pete told her everything. She was shocked finding out about the five thousand dollars.
“Do you believe him? Think it was his wife and not him?”
Pete sat on a stool next to her at the kitchen island. He thought about it some more for a moment before he answered her. “Crazy as it may seem, I do. At least I want to believe him,” he admitted.
“Me too!”
They both sat quietly for a few minutes mentally processing everything that had occurred in the past twenty-four hours, including the intimate moment they’d shared moments before the doorbell rang to Roger’s unexpected visit.
“I meant what I said,” Pete shifted his position on the stool so he was facing Debra. He touched her chin to turn her face to him.
“Are you sure?” She knew that he was referring to his saying he loved her. She looked into his eyes searching for her answer.
He cocked his head to one side. “What do you mean?” He was perplexed by her question.
Color of Deception Page 19