Perfectly Mixed (9 page)

Shane dropped Grayson off with his cousin Deborah, since she was the only person he trusted other than Larissa.  Shane was worried about his son. After taking him out of the car seat he complained about his butt hurting. He parked in the visitor’s parking space, “Is he okay?” Shane asked.

“Yes, he’s playing with Jonathon. Wait until I put my hands on Liza for touching my Grayson. I know you can’t do anything because of your job, but I can.”

“Someone already beat you to it,” Shane watched the fancy building. Larissa hadn’t called him back, and when he called her it went straight to voicemail. She texted him, saying she was in the middle of something. Shane knew if she were in trouble she would call him.

“That’s why I like Larissa. I hope she made her feel the way Grayson did when she struck him.”

“Deborah thank you for keeping him,” he leaned back in his seat. “If anyone calls asking for me-”

“I haven’t seen or heard from you. I know,” she sighed. “Shane, are you sure?”

“Yes, it’s time.” It was after sunset, and he was almost at his destination when he turned around and took Grayson to his cousin’s house. Shane knew he was still in the office, that the man he needed to see was a workaholic just like him. He only left early on Fridays. “Deb, I have to go. Call me if you need anything.”

“Bye, Grayson. We will be fine.”

Shane got out of his car, closing the door. Why was he so fucking nervous? Because he’d avoided doing this for years, but the man was the best at what he did. He took a deep breath. Shane sauntered up the sidewalk into the entryway, and pushed the heavy double doors open to the fancy glass building. He examined the spacious lobby; there was a waiting area with expensive chairs and decorative items on the middle tables. He strolled over to the receptionist. The young blonde lady behind the desk didn’t glance up. Shane glanced at her computer screen, shaking his head. She was busy surfing the Internet for shoes.

“How can I help you?” She asked without looking up from her computer.

“I’m here to see one of your attorneys,” Shane stared at the names on the wall next to the elevators. He located the name of the person he was looking for. The lawyer’s office was on the tenth floor.

The young lady finally glanced up, and her lips curled into a grin. Yep she liked what she saw. “I’m so sorry, sir,” now she gave him her undivided attention, batting her eyelashes. She stood, extending her hand. “I’m Christina,” she grinned exposing her pearly whites. “Which attorney are you looking for?”

“John Morgan.” Shane stared into her hazel eyes, if he needed to flirt his way through this he would.

Christina gazed back at him. “Do you have an appointment?”

“I don’t, but I know he would want to see me.” He took his wallet out of his back pocket.

“Sorry, sir, but were closing in a few minutes,” Christina answered. “If you don’t have an appointment he won’t see you. I can see if he has anything in his calendar for next week though.” She moved the mouse searching John’s calendar. “His assistant might be able to help you.”

Shane showed her his badge. “I’m here on business.”

“Federal agent, why didn’t you say that in the first place?” Christina read it. “He’s in a meeting right now.”

“I’ll wait,” Shane stared at her.

Christina picked up the phone, “Please have a seat, I’ll buzz his assistant,” she pointed over at the row of chairs.

Shane sauntered over to the waiting area, placing his wallet back in his pocket. He didn’t have time for this shit, he needed to see John now. He sat, glancing over at the receptionist and smiled. Christina was on the phone, and Shane took that opportunity to sneak off to the elevators, pressing the lighted button. The doors slid open, he hurried inside and pressed the tenth floor button. The elevator moved up, and he started to get uneasy about what he was about to do. He’d never back down from anything in his life. His struggles and pain made him who he was today, a force to be reckoned with. But he was also smart enough to know when he needed help, and this was one of those times. The elevator bounced to a stop, and he ambled out, looking up and down the hall.  He searched for John’s door with no luck.

“Good afternoon,” a brunette woman walking out an office with a briefcase in her hand said in greeting.

“Good afternoon,” Shane replied.

“Can I help you? Everyone is leaving for the day,” she mentioned.

“I’m looking for John Morgan,” Shane replied. “He’s expecting me.”

She pointed down the hall. “His office is around the corner, the second door on your left.” She walked away, but then turned back. “Have a nice day.” She continued to the elevator.

“You too.” Shane strode to the open door, and read the gold plated sign ‘John Morgan’. He stood at the door staring at John. This is the closet he’d been to him. Shane studied the man behind the desk on the phone. He was so into his phone call he didn’t notice Shane standing there. He brushed his fingers through his black hair, exposing his gold Rolex.

John chuckled loudly. “Very soon.” He finally glanced up staring at him through green irises and reared back in his leather seat when he saw Shane. “I have to go. I adore you.” He placed the phone on the cradle, and glared at him. “Can I help you?”

Shane cleared his throat. “I need your help.” He’d never begged anyone for shit, but he would plead for his son’s safety.

“Do we have a meeting I didn’t know about?” John stood; he was built like Shane, maybe a little taller.

“No,” Shane strolled in stopping midway. “But…”

“Then I can’t help you,” John leaned against his desk. “I don’t think you can afford me,” he watched Shane closely.

What the fuck did he just say? Shane decided to ignore his last statement. It was hard to bite his tongue, but he needed to. John was his only hope.

“I’m leaving in a few minutes, see your way out.” John picked up his briefcase.

“I’m not leaving until you fucking hear me out,” Shane stepped further inside the office.

John banged his briefcase on the mahogany desk, and then grabbed his phone and dialed. “Helen, come in here now!” He slammed it down on the cradle. John had a short temper like him. Shane examined the items on his desk. He had a picture of his son, daughter, and an African-American girl. His assistant walked into the room. “How did this man get in my office?” John questioned the poor lady.

“I don’t know.” She looked over at Shane, and back at John. “Sorry, boss, but my daughter has a recital tonight.”

“Don’t blame your assistant, she stepped away from her desk,” Shane chimed in, it wasn’t the woman’s fault. He was good at sneaking in and out of places.

John sat back down. “Have a nice evening, Helen.”

“See you tomorrow,” she said in relief and exited the office.

“What are you waiting for?” John glared at him. “Get out of my office.”

“I’m not fucking leaving until you decide to help me,” Shane grabbed the wooden chair from in front of his desk, and sat. “You’re helping me.”

“You really think so?” he leaned back crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t let the suit fool you, I would lay your ass out.” John raised his voice. “I fucking told you to leave my office.”

“And I told you I’m not,” Shane watched him closely.

John’s lips curled into a fake smile. “Why the hell do you think I’ll help you?”

Shane leaned forward placing his elbows on his legs. “I might be charged with kidnapping my son and assaulting his mother.”

John stared at him in disbelief, “And what makes you think I will defend you after you just told me you’re a scum bag?” He spat. “I would never defend a woman beater.”

“I lost it for a few seconds,” he sighed. “I didn’t hit her, but I did have my hand wrapped around her neck.” Shane closed his fist, and glared at John. “What would you have done if your ex-wife would’ve beaten your son, just because you loved your current wife?”

“My wife passed away.” John stood, staring out of the window.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Shane stood, looking at a portrait of John’s family. Sophia was smiling with a bouquet in her hand, next to their kids and his sisters. They had more in common than he thought. “If you don’t help me, everybody will know your secret.” Shane sat straight staring at him, he was going to help him one way or another.

John rapidly twisted around facing Shane, his jaw clenched, nose flaring. “What secret?”

“I know everything.” He divulged, staring him in his eyes.

John took a few strides around his desk, and grabbed Shane by his collar, lifting him out of the wooden seat. “What the fuck did you just say?”

Shane forcefully pushed John away from him.

“How do you know me?” John marched back behind his desk, went over to his top drawer, and pulled out a gun on Shane. “Did Marcus’s goons send you?” He yelled, his finger on the trigger. “My wife is dead!”

“Is she?” Shane knew he was provoking him. “How’s the cabin?”

John’s eyes widened, and his hands started shaking, but he didn’t back down. “If you’re here to blackmail me, it’s not going to work. I will blow your head off before I let you hurt anyone I love.”

“I would never let anyone hurt you or your sisters,” Shane shouted. John’s eyebrows met in confusion. “John, I have always been on your side, now I need you on my fucking side. You can’t let that bitch take my son away from me. She will hurt him. I promised myself the day I ran away from home, that I would never hurt my son the way my parents did me. I can’t lose my son!” He raised his voice.

“Who the hell are you?” John continued, aiming the weapon at him.

“I’m Shane… Shane Morgan.” He took a deep breath, his voice cracking. “Your brother.”

John just stared at him as the gun eased out of his palm dropping to the desk. “My brother…?”

Shane could tell he was finally seeing the resemblance. “Yes, John, I’m your brother.”

“What the fuck did you just say?” John placed his hands on his mahogany desk, glaring at Shane.  “You’re lying, I don’t have a brother.”

Shane pulled out an envelope containing everything his brother needed to believe what he was saying, from his birth certificate, to pictures of their grandmother, and father. He stepped closer to his sibling, handing the papers to John. “You are my brother. The same fucking bastard fathered us both,” His nose flared looking into his brother’s irises. “Our father’s name was James Morgan, your mother’s name was Melissa Morgan, she got away from that asshole when you were six I think. You lived in a homeless shelter for over a month until my grandmother Pauline helped her out,” Shane cleared his throat thinking of his grandmother who passed away when he was a child. She was the only person that took care of him. “I wish she was still here.”

John stared at him, and then took the documents out of the envelope. He began reading the papers. “Granny Pauline was an angel to my mom; she helped us escape him. I kept in touch with her for years until she died, but she never mentioned you.”

“She knew her son was no good, and she tried to save me too,” Shane commented, “but her health deteriorated. She was the one that mentioned that I had five siblings, Granny begged me on her death bed to find you, and I did.” He reared back, watching his brother. “I’m not here to cause any trouble. I just need your help,” John seemed to relax a little as he moved back, pacing while still reading his paperwork. “My little boy was beaten by his bitch of a mother.”

“A brother?” John placed the documents on his desk. He grabbed his leather chair, sat, and seized his gun, staring at Shane. “You have my father’s eyes just like Diana and Vickie, I can see the resemblance. Why didn’t you reach out to us? How did you find me?”

Shane swallowed, and sat, placing his elbows on his legs. “He never told us about his other family, after Granny told me I found pictures, and other documents digging into his personal things. James whooped my ass when I asked him about you and the girls. I kept a picture hidden under my pillow, wishing that one day I would meet you.” He cracked his neck, “If it wasn’t for you I would’ve never gotten out of that hell hole.”

John entwined his fingers, and leaned forward. “How? Because of me?” He cocked his eyebrow.

“Those monthly checks you sent James, he never cashed them I did,” Shane looked out of the window, not knowing what his brother’s reaction would be, and then he looked back at him. “I was fourteen when I found a pile of checks. A friend of mine’s brother who worked at the local bank told me some of the checks weren’t any good after six months, so, I forged his signature and cashed all the ones I could, and saved the cash. And then I realized you sent one every month. I started going out to the mailbox every first of the month. Because of those checks I could afford to walk out of that fucking hell hole.”

He continued staring at Shane, “A brother,” John said under his breath. “How do you know about my wife?”

    “I was part of the team that hid Sophia,” Shane leaned back in his chair. “When we received the call that someone was shot at your house, my heart skipped a beat thinking that I had lost my chance in meeting my brother. I walked into the house, and you were covered in blood, but you were okay,” he tilted his head. “I got to hold my niece, she’s beautiful.” He wondered if he had a baby with Larissa would she resemble Amber? “We made sure everyone thought Sophia was dead. We couldn’t chance Marcus’s goons retaliating against her or you. You were the one that pulled the trigger that caused Marcus to die.”

“I almost killed you, thinking you were working with them,” John placed his gun back into his top drawer. “I can’t believe I have a brother,” he tapped his fingers on the surface. “You took care of my family that day.”

“Yes, and I need your help,” Shane stared at John.

John inclined back, “Where is your son now?”

“Grayson’s with my cousin.”

“Cousin?”

“She’s my aunt’s daughter on my mother’s side,” Shane laughed. “She helped me out a few times when they would kick me out. Her husband didn’t want me in his house either, however she always looked out for me.”

“And you left my nephew with her?”

“She’s divorced, and she has three kids. Deborah would never let anyone hurt Grayson.” Shane pulled his cell out of his pocket, looking at his missed calls from Larissa and Liza. “She’s the closet thing I had to family. I can’t imagine living in a house filled with women.”

“It was awful, but they were always there for me.” John grabbed a note pad and pen off his desk. “Start from the beginning. What happened?”

Shane told his brother everything that happened from the night Liza’s brothers showed up to his home, to him dropping off his son at his cousin’s home. “Look what that bitch did to him,” he handed his cell to John, so he could see for himself why he did what he did. John looked at the pictures, and shook his head, clenching his jaw. “Are you going to help me get custody of my son?”

John passed him back the phone. “I don’t know much about family court, but I know one of the best lawyers in the state,” he pushed the speaker button on his desk phone, and it rang. “Yes, I will help you.”

“John, it’s after working hours. I’m off,” she chuckled. “How can I assist you?”

“Janice,” he stared at Shane. “I need a favor.” He spoke to the woman for a while explaining everything that Shane told him.

“Wow,” Janice said. “John, send me all the information he has, and the name of the CPS worker. I have a feeling they will remove him from his mother’s home. Shane, was this the first time anything like this has happened?”

“They can’t put him in foster care, I’m his father.” Shane raised his voice.

“Shane, has anything like this happened before?” Now it was John that repeated the question.

“Yes, his mother left him home alone a few times, and he had a black eye once,” Shane swallowed. “Liza swore she didn’t do it. She claimed that the neighbors were lying.”

“Was CPS called?” Janice asked.

“Yes, but I wasn’t aware of it, his mother told them I wasn’t in his life, so I didn’t find out until today.” Shane sighed. “I should’ve protected my son.”

“Shane, you are,” Janice added. “I will petition for temporary custody of the child to be granted to his father,” she spoke to John, “and you will have to handle the rest. Because I have a feeling she will be accusing him of domestic violence. You owe me.”

“I’ll handle the charges against him, thank you.”

“Whom do I send my bill to?” Janice laughed.

John shook his head. “Bill me. Talk to you tomorrow, Mrs. O’Neal.” John pushed the button on the phone. “She’s the best of the best.”

“I can pay her,” Shane responded. “I didn’t come here for a handout, I don’t trust those court appointed lawyers.”

“We have more in common than you think,” John smiled. “This isn’t a handout, this is what family does.”

Shane couldn’t believe how well John was taking the news that he had a brother. All these years he assumed if he revealed himself, they would reject him, and now here he was having a conversation with his big brother. John was going to help him keep his son safe from that bitch. Shane couldn’t help but smile. “The only family I have are my son, Deborah, and my fiancée.”

John watched him closely. “You have a bigger family now, wait until I tell our sisters about you. We are a crazy bunch when we are together. Olivia has always acted like she was the mom instead of the older sister.  Abby, well she’s stuck-up, anti-social,” he reared back. Shane assumed he was remembering something. “Diana is the sweetheart, she’s like my mom she sees the best in everyone, and then there is Vickie she’s the craziest of all. I was the baby, now you are,” John chuckled. “Hope you don’t mind me sharing.”

“No, I don’t mind,” Shane was intrigued with everything his brother had to say. He wanted everything he had to offer.

“You have,” John started counting his fingers, “eight and two halves nieces and nephews.”

“Two halves?” Shane raised his eyebrows.

“Vickie is about to have a baby, and…” John picked up the picture frame off his desk, “Sophia was pregnant when she got shot and went into hiding.”

Shane’s eyes widened in surprise, he didn’t know that bit of information. “She was pregnant?”

“Yes,” John placed the frame back.

“Is the baby okay?” Shane asked concern.

“Yes, he’s fine,” John cleared his throat. “You know everything about me, now tell me about you.” He entwined his fingers and gave him all his attention.

“There’s nothing much to say,” Shane scratched his head.

“You’re a Morgan, you have a lot to say. You said you have a fiancée, when are you getting married?”

“Next Friday.”

“Next Friday, a week from now?”

“Yes,” Shane now glanced at the picture of Sophia. “Larissa showed me what it meant to be loved. I never experienced this feeling before, I would lay my life down for her.”

“I know the feeling.”

“We have the same taste in women.”

John smiled, “Mixed family.”

“That’s what started it all, the mother of my child has a problem with my fiancée’s race.”

“Fuck her,” John replied. “Diana and Abby used to have an issue with the color of Sophia’s skin, until they got to know her. Now Morgan’s don’t see color. Vickie is married to an Asian dude.”

They both laughed.

Shane felt like he could share everything with the man sitting in front of him. This was easier than he thought. Why didn’t he do this before? Because you were a coward, that’s why. “James was a racist pig.” Shane added, remembering when he brought a Hispanic kid over to the house. His father kicked him out, and yelled that he didn’t want any immigrants in his house. He sighed, now thinking of his son, and how he must’ve felt when Liza beat him. “As a child all I received was beatings instead of love.”

“Your mother beat you too?” John’s cocked his eyebrow. 

Shane clenched his jaw, thinking of how his parents took turns treating him like a punching bag. “They both took turns,” he got emotional. “If it wasn’t for your monthly checks, I probably would be dead now.”

John stared at him, “I wondered who cashed those checks, because James told me he didn’t want my money, but I assumed he was just talking shit and still cashed them. Now I know. I’m glad that those checks helped you out.”

“They did. You practically paid for my college degree.”

“Good, instead of letting life get you down, you took another route. I commend you. If it weren’t for my mother’s strength I wouldn’t be where I am now. It took her a few years, but she got us out of that house. Believe me our childhood wasn’t easy,” John’s eyes shined for a moment, and then he continued. “I know what you went through, and I don’t wish those beatings on anyone.”

Shane just listened to John, and then he added. “There was only one day of peace in our house.”

“Let me guess, Sundays.” His brother pointed out the same routine his father had with him. “That bastard would beat and cuss us on Saturday and go to church like nothing ever happened the next day.”

“I prayed for Sunday, every Monday,” they both laughed and found humor in their childhood.

“Me too,” John stared at him for a moment, opened his mouth to say something and Shane assumed he thought about for a second. “Were you there when he died?”

“No,” Shane remembered the phone call from his mother, telling him that his father was in the hospital, and then that he’d died. “My mother was by his side. He didn’t die alone,” he gazed at his brother. “I gave the hospital the number to call Olivia after he died.”

“Your mother is still alive?”

“Yes,” he smirked. “Martha doesn’t want anything to do with me and the feeling is mutual. She felt like I abandoned them, and unlike you I wouldn’t give them a dime of my hard earn money. Just because she gave birth to me doesn’t mean I owe her shit.”

“You don’t owe them shit.” John gazed at Shane; he could see the pity in his eyes. “Why didn’t you reach out to us?”

“I was afraid of rejection,” Shane admitted. “All my childhood I was told, I wasn’t good enough, I was nothing, that no one would ever love a bad boy like me. I couldn’t handle any more disappointments.”

John stood, and walked in front of him. “I went through what you did, but I had a strong mother. She would interject as he was beating us, receiving the worst of his anger,” John opened his mouth to say something and sighed. “I only wish, I knew about you, Shane. However, you didn’t let what happened to you as a kid define you. We are survivors, we made it,” he smiled leaning against his desk. “Never in a million years,” he stared at him, “would I have thought that James fathered another child, not after what he did to us. Do you know if we have any other siblings?”

“We don’t, after I was born he had a vasectomy. He hated kids, especially me.” Shane stood.

“He hated all his kids, but he kept having us,” John said with disgust. “Where is your wedding taking place?”

“At the courthouse.”

“Is this your first marriage?”

“Yes.”

“You’re not getting married at no courthouse,” John moved around his desk, and picked up his cell phone, and dialed. “Olivia, do you think you can plan a wedding in a week?”