Table Of ContentDeception - [dih-sep-shuhn] - the act of deceiving or the state of being deceived
Deception can be cruel – Deception can burn you–
but when it becomes a family affair it can shred apart your very heart and
soul....
DECEPTION
By Michele Lee
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are
either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any
resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or
locales is entirely coincidental.
Published by Love Lee Books
Copyright © 2013 by Michele Lee
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof
in any form whatsoever.
Dedication
Notes from the author
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Epilogue
Dedication
This book is dedicated to my husband the true love of my life.
Thank you for believing in me and pushing me to accomplish my dreams.
I thank God every day for having you in my life.
You are my rock… You are my true soul mate…
My Heart Belongs To YOU…
I Love You to Infinity and beyond and beyond and beyond …
Note from the author
I have always wanted to write a book but life always got in the way. I’m not an
English major but I love to tell a good story. I’m in love with all aspects of
love… The tragedies, the sacrifices, the struggles but in the end love conquers
all….
DECEPTION is my very first novel and I hope everyone enjoys it. Marco and
Marisol are two strong Hispanic characters who overcome all levels of deception
from both sides of their families. They strive to not only better themselves but
those around them. Marisol’s heart is pure and she will not let the evilness
surrounding her change who she is. She may be a victim of deception but she is
my true heroine…
I would to thank my three children Ajay, Desiree and Justin for understanding
my dream to write. I hope you are inspired that dreams do happen and never
give up on your true passion in life. I love you guys….
I would also like to thank my family members who believed in me and cheered
me on… I am blessed to have every one of you in my life and a special shout out
to mom for taking the time to read my draft.
Follow me on Facebook and Twitter and let me know what you think. I can’t
thank you enough for purchasing my novel…
Stay tuned for my next book - updates will be posted on my Facebook and
Twitter.
https://www.facebook.com/Michele.Lee.Romance
https://twitter.com/loveleebooks
Prologue
Marisol couldn’t escape the feeling of dread within her bones.
She considered her gift of premonition a wicked curse at times.
Gazing out the kitchen window holding the phone to her ear as
darkness engulfed the skies and the full moon glared victoriously
while battling the storm clouds demanding to be seen. Half listening to
the other end of the phone, Marisol’s ears were maxed to capacity with
Nate chastising her causing major jitters through her mainstream.
“Yes Nate, I promise I will tell him tonight. We plan to meet up at the
old red shed behind the tobacco field.” Marisol said as she started to
pace back and forth in the ancient kitchen twisting the phone cord
around her fingers. She had just come back from her grandfather’s
barn where she fed the horses and brushed them down. Spending time
with the horses was her escape from her reality at home. When she
rode them it felt like borrowed freedom; taking her mind to places of
comfort and excitement all at the same time.
“I don’t know why you waited as long as you have.” Nate replied; his
tone expressed his disapproval. Nate has been her best friend since kindergarten
and they always had each other’s back no matter what the situation called for.
“You know exactly why. I don’t want obligation to dictate Marco’s
decision about school. Since graduation he has been on the fence about going
away to school or taking a year off to work at their family auto shop and I don’t
want my pregnancy to be his crutch that holds him back. He has a full ride to
ECU and he should go. He’ll only resent me and the baby if his plans fail. It
will be the old typical tragedy made into a sad country ballad. I can’t afford any
more tragedy in my life. At least the baby is due in February and I will have
enough credits to graduate by December.”
“Look Marisol, it takes two to tangle so you cannot put the entire
responsibility on yourself. We both know Marco loves you. It will all work out
in the long run, I’m sure. What I do fear is your father’s wrath more than
anything.” Nate knew once her father William Braxton Jr., finds out all hell is
going to break loose and that raises his concern. “With that said, when do you
plan to tell your dear old dad?”
Marisol started to bite her bottom lip and stared up at the ugly wall
hangings meeting the glares from the Country Roosters made of plaster then
added, “Well, my plan isn’t a genius one but I will wait until my first trimester is
over which buys me some time. He’s way too unpredictable and I won’t chance
it, ever since my mom died he hasn’t shed an ounce of kindness towards me.”
Shaking her head, “No, no he will be the last to know as far as I am concerned,
hopefully Marco will have some kind of plan. I will let you know how it goes
down tonight; he said he has something important to share with me. Would you
know what that something is?” She asked with hopefulness in her voice.
“Well I can’t blame you. I’m worried, most parents just get mad and
then they get over it but your dad is insane some people in town even call him
Satan. Just remember I’m always here for you and love you so please be
careful. And no my love Marco hasn’t mentioned anything out of the norm.
Let’s try to catch up in the morning I want details.”
“Okay will do. I know I can always count on you, Nate. You’re my
bestest friend until death do us part.” She giggled as she remembered years back
the three of them Nate, Marco and herself declaring those words as they
combined their bloody fingers as a pack in the very same red shed where she
was meeting Marco at tonight. It has always been the three of them one
adventure after another. It made her think about the “Big T” she didn’t know
how she will survive once they sold it. All her childhood memories were spent
on that land. The Tobacco farm was located in the outskirts of Raleigh, North
Carolina. Her grandfather William Braxton Sr., was already in his mid-70’s and
it was well pass his time to sell, ever since her grandmother passed away last
year her grandfather gave up his zest for life and the evidence showed on the
land.
The house where Marisol and her father lived was across from the
tobacco farm on its own parcel and the deed was finally signed over to her father
as a gift from his parents after her mom died. William Braxton Sr. is a shrewd
man who controlled and manipulated his wife and even now continues to do so
with his only son. He never approved of his son’s marriage to Valencia the
Mexican harlot as he would say. William Jr. could never be good enough and he
grew up to be a spiteful mean spirited man because of his lack of worthiness
from his old man. He used his aggression behind his law enforcement badge and
was feared by many. He had no interest in the farm and in fact despised
everything about it. The farm workers even stayed clear of him knowing what
he was capable of.
After Marisol hung up the phone, she went outside still wearing her
overalls and inhaled the sweet smell of the tobacco as she marched across the
wet road towards the fields. At least the rain had finally let up since Marco
should be here shortly she thought. Moments like this made her miss her mother
more than ever. Her tears began to stream down her face wishing she was still
alive. She knew Marco loved her and hoped this blessing will be the beginning
of a new life for them although she was not able to shake off this feeling of
doom and it scared her senseless.
****♥****
On route 64 in the late hours of the night Marco sat in uncomfortable
silence. Even with no street lights the wet road glistened from the brightness of
the full moon. All evidence of a storm had abandoned the skies above replaced
with the darkest blue Marco ever seen. In the passenger seat which had seen
better days he glanced over at his father who everyone calls Freddie, a nick
name for Wilfred. He seemed preoccupied with his thoughts and was too quiet
tonight which is out of character for him. Those who knew him loved him for
his giving nature, good humor and always the laugh of the party. He stood over
six feet tall and towered over most of his family and friends, a trait that was also
inherited by his sons. Although, traces of hard work revealed itself within his
eyes and hands; his appearance was still robust and virile as ever. Marco on the
other hand looked like a specimen of perfection; some may even call him
beautiful instead of handsome. He may have inherited his father’s natural well-
built physique but his rare turquoise colored eyes came from his grandmother’s
genes. The contrast of his slanted eyes with his olive skin and jet black wavy
hair made him exotic-looking - clearly a work of art.
Marco known his father had one too many beers at dinner and should
offer to take over the wheel. Freddie merely focused on the road as he steered
his beat up work van. The old van was used not only for the auto shop he owned
in town but for his occasional escapades to transport illegal Mexican immigrants
to places that were arranged for temporary or permanent living quarters. These
destinations varied between different counties to avoid suspicion. He has been a
participant of this smuggling operation before Marco was even born but of late
he only assisted once they made it over the border. The family understood the
high risk involved but the importance and dedication of the cause outweighed
the risk. The force behind his motivation was never about the payout, he knows
firsthand the fate for these Mexican folks who take flight to come to the U.S.
They are willing to risk their lives to escape severe poverty, hunger and
hopelessness; to gain an opportunity here is a dream they visualize at all costs.
Marco knew his parents took that plunge 20 years ago themselves and if they
had lacked the courage to flee who knew how his life would have ended up. At
least they acted responsible enough to go through the excruciating legal process
to become legal residents.
Anxiety crept up on Marco; he managed to ask with concern; “Pop, are
you ok? You should let me drive to give yourself a break. You look like
something is bothering you, did something happen back at the complex?” He
hung his head low with anticipation; he had an odd feeling in the pit of his
stomach a premonition of some sort; something bad was upon them. He hated
when he had these feelings. It was a trait that he and Marisol shared and often
talked about.
Marco and Freddie had gone earlier in the day to pick up a family of five
from the outskirts of Charlotte. They had stayed in a residence with a guy
Marco never seen before. The place was a shack literally in the middle of
nowhere. It was shabby and eerie the kind of place you see in a horror flick like
the Chainsaw Massacre which spooked him out a bit. As planned, they
transported the family to an apartment complex in Silo City. The family didn’t
seem to mind being cramped up like sardines surrounded by tools in the back of
the van for the three hour trip. Listening in as their whispers traveled within
Marco’s hearing range; he found out about the one bedroom apartment waiting
for them and a job lined up for the father. One would think a mansion was
bestowed to them as pure joy sang through their whispers.
Once they arrived to the apartment complex Freddie helped them out of
the van along with their few belongings. It was incredible the amount of
gratitude pouring from their expressions as his father shook their hands when
they arrived to their destination. They were led inside the old three story
complex building by a Hispanic woman on the heavy side wearing a floral house
coat the kind with the snaps lined up in front, she met them by the entranceway
while Marco waited in the van. He gazed at the woman through the side view
mirror, she looked liked the stereotype figure of a grandmother who bakes
cookies and spoils her grandchildren with good cooking. Maybe it was his
stomach that did the thinking since it grumbled and reminded him the gage of
hunger had surpassed and now shifted to starvation. His father quickly returned
and headed back on the road without so much of a word. Freddie never shared
the details with his family on any of these missions for precaution purposes so
they never badgered him with questions. By the time they had stopped to eat, the
timing could not have been more perfect, the skies finally decided to open up
and let out a downpour of crystal clear raindrops as they entered into the local
diner. Inside they were led to their booth by a chatty waitress who acted like she
knew them all her life and expected them to arrive that very moment. Once they
ordered from the sticky menu covered with a combination of syrup and dried up
ketchup; Marco looked around and noticed the western décor. He glanced at the
upholstery of the booth; it was covered with a scene of cowboys and horses. He
