Color of Deception (21 page)

“What…what about your family? They don’t approve,” her lips trembled as she tried to rein in her emotions.

“They’ll just have to accept it. And respect it.” He wiped tears from her cheek with his thumbs. “We can take things slow. I just wanted you to know how I felt.” He pulled her to him into a hug. He held her tightly, relishing the softness of her body pressed against his hard built. “I’ve wanted to tell you for weeks. But you kept shutting down any subject I directed about us. I was beginning to think I must have been terrible in bed.” He tried to lighten up her mood.

Debra smiled in his chest. She lifted her head showing him a wide smile. “You were awesome in bed,” she confessed shyly then tried to hide her smile.

“Oh, thank goodness!” he chuckled, his manhood was in check. “I’m sorry if I rushed you into – sex.” His tone was serious. “I want to get to know you better. Sex can come again later.”

“I want that too.” Debra lifted her head so she was looking him in his eyes. “I love you Peter!” she confessed. It made no sense for her to deny her feelings any longer. She was in love with this man, and God help her; she wanted to give all her heart to him, even with the risk of getting it broken.

Pete sealed her declaration with a kiss. He captured her mouth with his and held on to her as if she would slip from his fingers. All the love they had for each other was manifested in their passionate embrace. 

Chapter 50

Roger rest his head against the car’s headrest. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut praying, begging, to get his temper under control. He was parked in his driveway. He’d sped home after leaving Pete’s house. The thought of being pulled over for driving over the speed limit never crossed his mind. He was on a mission.

He didn’t spend the night home last night. After leaving the police station he got a room at a cheap motel after one of his boys took him home to get his car. He knew if he’d come home to stay last night he would’ve woken up in a prison cell. That was how badly he wanted to hurt Porsha. The woman was like an incurable disease that wreaked havoc on his mental state with a vengeance, every single painstaking second of his life. Knowing what she did to his son set him off – the deep end. He felt like he was going crazy with the impulses he had of torturing her to death. He knew Porsha was cruel. Evil. But, to burn his baby with a cigarette, he didn’t think she was capable of that. Who was he kidding?
The Wench is capable of anything.

I need to just pack up and leave. Get my stuff and bounce!
He opened his eyes and looked toward the brick-front rambler house that was nowhere near home for him. Porsha’s Dodge Charger was parked right next to his car. She’d been blowing up his cell phone since last evening. He’d ignored all her calls and text messages. He laughed to himself as he imagined how freaked out she must have been feeling, wondering if he told the authorities she was the one that had burned Carl. Why he didn’t tell them it was her? He was kicking himself now for not doing so – but he would.

“I’ve had enough of this mess!” He opened the car door and slammed it shut after he got out.

He entered the house after using his key, which he stuck in his jeans pocket after closing the door shut behind him. He knew where he would find her. Her lazy behind always stayed in bed when she wasn’t working at the beauty shop. The kids were already off to school. Good. He didn’t want to see the rug rats anyway.

“Roger,” Porsha said when she saw him walk into the master bedroom. Relief washed over her face, but it was quickly hidden, dare she let him see that she was actually relieved he wasn’t locked up. She’d been calling him and the police station repeatedly trying to figure out what was going on – if he was in jail or not. What it all meant for her.

Roger pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and rest it vertically in a resting case on the mirrored dresser by the door. He silently moved to the chair near the bed then sat. Porsha watched him closely as he moved. She couldn’t read his temperament, and it was unnerving for her. But she wouldn’t admit that either.

Roger massaged the back of his neck with his hand, trying to relieve some tension. “Why did you burn him?” he asked as calmly as possible. His eyes focused on her.

She had on a pink camisole that did nothing to hide her full breasts. But even seeing her in it did nothing to arouse him sexually. Not even seeing her natural hair flowing bountifully passed her shoulders. He was too aroused with anger. The rest of her was covered with a brown comforter. But he knew she was probably wearing only underwear underneath. She sat with her back against the headboard supported by pillows. The flat screen TV on the wall ahead was on a channel showing a re-run of a reality TV show. Porsha’s favorite pastime.

“How dare you bring your bastard child in my house?” she snapped, staring him down like he was scum of the earth. Being volatile with him was always her preferred mode – unless they were having sex. But then again, during that activity it worked too.

Roger breathed out deeply. But he remained calm. He sat back in the chair, getting a little more relaxed. His long legs stretched out in front of him. He was capable of murder at that point. So not letting her push his nerves would save them both. He didn’t realize how sexy as hell he appeared to Porsha at the moment, she drunk him in with her lustful eyes. It took everything in her not to jump up off the bed and straddle him on the chair.

“Why. Did. You. Burn. My. Son?” He stretched the words out steely.

Porsha folded her arms across her chest which only accentuated the fullness of her breasts. “You shouldn’t have brought him here, Roger. Another woman’s child in my damn house!”

“So you burned an innocent baby with a cigarette?” He gritted through his teeth. He mentally told himself to remain calm.
Don’t get up and choke the life out of her. Remain calm. She’s not worth it.

Exasperated, Porsha threw her hands up in the air. “Yeah I did it. I burned his perfect dark mocha skin with my cigarette. If you hadn’t brought him in my house it woulda never happened. I bet you won’t be stupid enough to let that happen again.”

Roger had his head down looking at the floor. He closed his eyes tight. He was now sitting forward then with his forearms resting on his thighs. He was praying. It had been a while since he’d even thought about God. Faith. Religion. But at that moment he knew he needed Jesus. An Angel. God from heaven Himself to stop him from doing the countless brutal acts he passionately wanted to inflict on Porsha. He rubbed his big calloused hands together to busy them from acting on wrapping them tightly around her slender neck, crushing the air out of her lungs.

How could she just sit there and tell me she burned my son like it’s nothing? Like she was just scratching an itch he had on his leg or something?
He waited for the calm to return to him. The voice of reason. Strength not to go bat crazy on her behind.

Porsha was clueless of his mental turmoil. She laughed out loud, feeling vindicated. She returned her attention to the TV screen with a smirk on her face.
Weak ass.
She tuned her ears to what the ladies on the screen were saying.

Roger stood up abruptly from the chair. That shut Porsha up quickly when she saw the black abyss of his eyes. Fear gripped her like a glove as he stared down at her. His fists clenched at his sides. He moved, which caused a hitch in her breathing. Then he turned and walked to retrieve his cellphone from the resting case on the dresser, he placed it in his jeans pocket. His back was to her.

Porsha ran shaky fingers through her hair as she released the breath she held after he moved away from the bed. “You know you can’t go and tell them what I did. You still have that
dirty
little
secret
that I will have no problem sharing,” she told him ever so sweetly, relieved at having her bad girl persona perfectly back in place.

“Oh. The fact that I was the actual cause of Moriah Holmes’ death?” Roger turned to face her. The black anger in his eyes still remained.

“Yes. How would Peter Holmes, guardian of your
precious
son, feel about them apples?” she grinned. She laid back more comfortably against the pillows behind her back.

Roger watched her silently. He rubbed a hand under his jaw. Porsha bit her bottom lip at the sexy sight he made standing before her, his anger only made him more attractive to her. Fussing and fighting with each other was their best foreplay.

“I’ve been thinking… a lot,” Roger moved back to sit on the chair near the bed. His eyes remained on her. “I was really drunk that evening of the accident. Too drunk to drive, which is why my boy called you up to pick me up from the bar.” He watched her, not needing a response. She’d been feeding him lies since the incident, making him believe he was the cause behind two deaths. But it was amazing what little bits and pieces could be remembered even in a drunken state of mind. “
You
rear-ended Mr. Bevins,” he was referring to the man that crashed head on, into Moriah’s car, killing them both instantly. “
You
sent his car crashing into Moriah’s. You were so greedy for the two grand he owed me and refused to pay for fixing his car. I told you I would handle it, but you decided when you saw him driving ahead of us that evening, to take matters into your own hands.”

“You must be drunk now too,” she spat. “Because you were driving, not me.” Her eyes twitched.

“We both know you would
never
let me drive your car while drunk.” He had her. Truth flashed in her eyes. “Plus there’s confirmation that you drove off from the bar, not me.”

She threw the comforter off her and got up from the bed. He was right, she was only wearing matching panties along with her pink camisole. “You’re crazy! You think I would intentionally crash my car into someone else’s?”

“Better reason for you to convince me to get your brand new Charger outside.”

“You’re such a bitch! You killed Mr. Bevins and Moriah Holmes, not me! You were too drunk to remember anyway.” She marched to the bathroom door and snatched her terry robe from the hook it was hanging from and quickly put it on.

“Correction – you hoped I was too drunk. And yes I was, but not too drunk to remember bits and pieces to put the whole puzzle together.” He enjoyed seeing her squirm and not be sure of herself. He had the upper hand. He knew she reveled in him not testing her when she went off on her tirades throughout the years. It wasn’t because he couldn’t check her, put her in her place, – it was just more peaceful letting her
assume
she had her way. Quite frankly he just didn’t care – and he certainly couldn’t give a rat’s tail about her right now.

“I don’t want to hear this BS! I was there, I know what happened.” Porsha tried to walk out of the bedroom but Roger blocked her. “MOVE!” she shouted pushing violently at his solid chest, her natural hair flying wildly around her face.

“You really had me messed up for a long time thinking I killed two people. You had my grown behind freaking the hell out. That’s why I’ve endured putting up with all your BS. But you and I both know that you were the one driving
your
car that evening – not me,” he said calmly while staring her down. All that he learned about what she did scheming five thousand dollars from Pete and burning his son helped him remember what really happened the evening of the accident.

“You can’t prove nothing!” she spat, hurling her fists into his chest. Roger caught her arms in midair.

“I’ve got all the proof I need,” he said triumphantly, flinging her arms away from him in disgust. He turned and started to leave.

“What would your boss think about you
borrowing
parts from the shop for your side jobs – huh?”.

“Do whatever you must do Porsha and I’ll do me.” He strode purposely forward while checking his phone.

Porsha ran after him in the hallway and caught him by the arm. “What are you going to do?”

Roger had never seen her so vulnerable before. He almost – yeah almost, felt sorry for her.
Wench, you are straight crazy if you think I’m falling for your puppy dog tears, the hell I’ve been through for years with your mess.
“Let go!” he snapped, freeing himself of her like she was crap on the bottom of his shoes.

“Babe, I’m sorry for hurting your son. I promise it won’t happen again. You can bring him here whenever you want…”

“You damn right! When you and
your
kids bounce!” He continued for the front door.

Porsha fell over herself after he loosened himself from her grip. She fell to her knees. “ROGER!!!!!” she screamed hysterically.

He slammed the door behind him.

Chapter 51

Within days Porsha was officially charged for inflicting harm on Carl. Roger’s cellphone recording of her confession helped seal the deal. She faced up to five years in prison for her crime. When Roger tried to have her charged for crashing into Mr. Bevins’ car, which caused the death of both Mr. Bevins and Moriah Holmes, Porsha denied the allegations stating that Roger was only trying to frame her because of his connection to Peter Holmes and to also further damage her name. Plus there was no physical evidence to prove Roger’s accusations. The case was not reopened.

Roger’s visitations with Carl resumed. He assured Pete that he wanted to be an active participant in Carl’s life, but he wouldn’t pursue getting legal custody. Carlisha left Carl to Pete for a reason, after his denial of his son during her pregnancy and with Porsha being behind Moriah’s death, he felt it best that his son remained where he was. That was the least he felt he could do.

Pete had a difficult time hearing the details from Roger regarding how and why his wife Moriah was actually killed. But he didn’t push law enforcement with reopening the case and try to somehow get Porsha charged for the crime.

“I’ve finally been able to heal from losing her. I’m at peace. I don’t want to open up old wounds,” Pete said with his eyes closed while his head rested on the back of the couch and his long legs propped on the coffee table in front of him.

Debra watched him silently. She was sitting on the couch with him with her legs draped across his lap. They’d been making an effort to really get to know each other better for the past couple weeks. But with Roger’s news about what he believed really happened surrounding Moriah’s death, Debra was again apprehensive about her budding romantic relationship with Pete. She could never compete with a dead woman – nor did she want to. What he had found out had to have been a setback in his grieving process – she needed to be convinced otherwise.

“Are you absolutely sure you don’t want to pursue—”

“The police don’t have any evidence that Mr. Bevins’ car was hit,” Pete cut her off and exhaled deeply. He lifted his head off the back of the couch and turned to look at Debra. “Debra, I’ve been grieving Moriah for a long time. I don’t want to go through the painful ordeal of proving how she died. That fact that she’s gone and never coming back was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to deal with. I don’t want to push for an investigation that would probably lead to nothing. Porsha’s going to jail, if not for Moriah or what she did to Carlisha – she’s at least going to pay some time for what she did to Carl.”

“I just wanted to make sure you thought this all through,” Debra said quietly.

“I love you Debra,” Pete lifted her legs lying on his lap and moved closer to her upper body. “I need to move on. I want to move on, with you!” He captured her soft lips with his and kissed her passionately.

“I love you too! And I… I need you, want you,” she declared after she released her lips from his and looked into his fire filled piercing blue eyes.

“Good! Because Carl and I would be miserable without you,” Pete dipped his head again to kiss her, slipping his tongue into her eager mouth.

Ding Dong!

“The door…” Debra whispered between his lips.

“We’re not home,” Pete said with a smile, his mouth still deliciously preoccupied with hers.

“It could be Roger with Carl.”

“Hmmmmm.”

“Plus, we agreed to
wait
until we’re
intimate
again. This will only steer us in the wrong direction,” she quipped after reluctantly pushing away from Pete.

Pete grunted loudly. Then pushed further away from his temptation. His eyes hooded with passion. He stood up quickly from the couch and went to answer the door.

“Rachel,” Pete opened the door surprised to see his niece standing there on his porch.

“Uncle Pete…” Rachel looked down nervously at her boot clad feet. “…I want to apologize for the way I’ve acted about you and Debra.” Her gaze was on his face now. “It’s just… it’s just weird seeing you with someone else,” she confessed.

Pete remained quiet allowing her time to say what she came to say.

“But I know I was wrong for my behavior. I’m sorry. To you and Debra.” Rachel’s soft voice was sincere.

Pete pulled her into a bear hug. “Apology accepted.” He would only admit to himself that he missed seeing her nagging butt often. He was really happy she finally decided to apologize.

“Thank you!” she whispered as she nuzzled in his chest.

“Debra’s here, so you can apologize to her personally.” Pete ended their embrace and stepped aside so she could enter the house.

“Rachel?” Debra looked up to see her and Pete walking into the family room.

“Hi Debra,” Rachel hesitantly walked over to the couch where Debra was sitting and sat down. Debra watched her cautiously. “I came to apologize to you for my nasty behavior toward you. I was wrong and I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me.”

Debra was speechless. She looked at Rachel, then up at Pete. She had weeks ago told herself that she and Rachel would probably never get along, now lo and behold. “Uh, um. Yes, I forgive you.”

“Thank you!” Rachel got up and hugged Debra, which shocked Debra even more.

Rachel sat back down after her embrace with Debra. “I’ve really missed Carl too,” she admitted. “Is he here? I bought him some toys I have in the car.”

Ding dong.

“Actually, I believe that’s him now.” Pete turned backwards to go and answer the front door. “Right on time.”

Moments later, Pete returned to the living room holding Carl with Roger right behind him.

“Aww, look at him. He’s gotten so big since I saw him last.” Rachel practically jumped from the couch to go over and take Carl from Pete. She hugged Carl tightly to her chest. “I’ve missed you so much little munchkins.” Carl giggled in response.

“Looks like the whole family is here,” Pete announced looking around the room. “Well accept for Noah and Leah. But the family still the same.”

“I appreciate that Pete,” Roger said, setting Carl’s baby bag down on a chair. “I’m sorry for all this crap that’s gone down, but I appreciate you fulfilling Carlisha’s wishes by taking care of our son. Carl needs people that love him around him as much as possible.”

“That’s exactly what he has.” Pete beamed watching Rachel love up on Carl. His heart couldn’t be more at peace and love.

“In our life there is a single color, as on an artist's palette, which provides the meaning of life and art. It is the color of love.”
  – Marc Chagall