by Ancelli
“Liza Hall,” Larissa clutched her purse. “I was hired to do a consult at her job.” She explained what her job entailed. “When she saw me she lost it. She started yelling some racial things like she always does, but this time she assaulted me.” She pointed at her lip. Liza’s ring grazed her lip when she had Larissa by the hair.
Thompson grabbed the pen and continued writing, “What caused her to assault you?”
“She hates me,” Larissa’s voice softened.
“Why?”
“Because of Shane,” and she pointed at her brown skin, “the color of my skin, and her son.”
“Her son?”
“Yes,” Larissa opened her purse, dug into it, and pulled out her phone. “Look what she did to his son, just because he likes me.”
Thompson took her phone from Larissa, and her eyes widened as she continued watching the pictures. “Does Morgan know about this?”
“Yes,” Larissa inched closer. “He didn’t have anything to do with what happened between Liza and me.” She would take all the blame.
“Morgan?” She questioned, and laughed in disbelief. “Are we talking about the same man?”
“He cussed her out, but he didn’t touch her,” Larissa mentioned. “I did.” If Shane got charged with assault that would hinder his case for custody. They weren’t married yet so anything she did would not affect him. Larissa found the recording that she had of Liza talking trash about African-Americans and she also admitted to me that she sent her brother to Shane’s home.
“She has something against us?” Thompson tapped her finger on the desk. “Did you hit her back?”
“Yes. I have the right to defend myself,” she calmly said. “I was, and I am afraid for my life,” Larissa placed her cellphone back in her purse. “She threatened to take Shane’s son away from him if I filed charges.” She wiped the tear that rolled down her cheek. “Shane can’t find out I came here, he doesn’t know what happened after he left the office. You know how overprotective he can get.” She would never keep anything from Shane, she’d already briefed him on the events after he left the office.
“Are there any witnesses?”
“Ben Ford,” Larissa answered all her questions.
“We have to investigate your accusation, and then we’ll turn over the report to the district attorney’s office. He will make the decision whether to prosecute the person that assaulted you.” Thompson continued writing. “You can file a restraining order.”
There was a loud clunk, making them both look at the entrance. “I want to report a kidnapping,” Liza slapped her palm on the counter. “That son of bitch took my son.” She yelled at the officer assisting her.
“Who?”
“His father!” She cried out.
Larissa’s heart thumped against her chest, she was accusing him of kidnapping. “That’s her.”
Thompson stood.
“Shane didn’t take your son!” Larissa jumped out of her seat. “He’s protecting him from you.”
Liza’s eyes widened when she saw Larissa. “I’m pressing charges against you, and Shane for putting his hands on me.”
“You attacked me first,” Larissa smirked. I beat you to it bitch, she thought. “Shane never touched you. I did.”
Liza twisted her neck, showing the police officers her neck. “He did this.”
“I confess,” Larissa turned looking at the female cop. “She punched me, and I lunged at her, wrapping my hands around her neck. I told you that I had to protect myself.”
Liza stepped forward, “You black bitch, this is all your fucking fault!”
She wanted to finish what she started at the credit union, but she would do anything to secure Shane and Grayson’s future. “Did I make you beat your son?” She needed her to admit it. “He had bruises on his back and legs just because he loves me!”
Mrs. Barbara strolled into the police station. Liza didn’t see her come in.
“Yes I beat him, he’s my son. I have the right to spank him when he does something bad or misbehaves. My son will never be a nig… lover,” Liza hollered. “I made sure he will never love you. You don’t belong in his world.”
“Did you just realize what you said?” Thompson moved in between them. “I’m black.”
A younger cop walked up. “I need you all to calm down.” He glared at Liza.
Liza glared at Thompson and then at her as other police officers gathered around. “I’m here to report a kidnapping and assault. This isn’t about me.”
“She whooped her son for being an innocent baby, and for loving me,” tears rolled down her cheeks. Her heart ached for Shane and Grayson suffering all of this because of her. Larissa wasn’t going to let them down. “How could you do that to your own son?”
Officer Wells interrupted their confrontation, “Thompson I have a CPS lady here to file a report about a child abuse. I think it’s related to Morgan’s investigation.”
Larissa remained quiet; Liza was doing a good job at sinking herself.
“How could you?” Liza’s mother finally spoke, making Liza gasp. “My poor baby,” her voice cracked.
She turned around. “Mama, I told you to stay in the car.”
“You said Shane kidnapped Grayson, but you neglected to tell me what you did,” her mother’s hand shook. “I don’t like him, but he loves his son. I didn’t raise you that way.” The older lady’s eyes flooded with tears. “I told you to keep your hands to yourself.”
“Stop acting like you fucking care,” she snapped.
Her mother scowled at her, and without warning slapped Liza. She clutched her face, and the younger cop gently grabbed Mrs. Barbara. “Ma’am, come with me, let’s get some fresh air.”
Liza glared at all of them and screamed. “He kidnapped my son. I want him back!”
Officer Wells was talking to the Child Services lady as they walked up to the commotion. “Good afternoon, I work for CPS, Marla Curtis,” she introduced herself. “Mr. Morgan didn’t kidnap his son, I allowed him to take him. Ms. Hall your son will be temporally removed from your home until our investigation is over.”
“No!” Liza cried out. “You can’t take my son away from me,” she held her chest. “No… you just can’t. I made a mistake, I love my son.” She sobbed. “I promise I won’t touch him again. I’m sorry!”
“A little too late for apologies.” Larissa said as she grabbed her purse off the chair. “I would like to file a restraining order.”
Chapter Fourteen
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 w
as 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.”
Chapter Fifteen
“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.”
