Chapter 2
I don't remember crossing the room.
One moment, I was holding Noah beside the sofa.
The next, I was standing near the front door with my son in my arms, putting as much distance as possible between him and Vanessa.
"Jordan, put your hands where I can see them."
My stepson stared at me.
The bat lay on the carpet several feet away.
He raised his hands slowly.
"Dad—"
"Don't call me that right now."
The words came out harsher than I'd intended.
Jordan flinched.
I looked toward Vanessa.
"Sit down."
She folded her arms.
"Marcus, you are not going to order me around in my own house."
I felt something inside me snap.
"My son was just threatened with a baseball bat."
"No one touched him!"
I stared at her.
For years, I'd heard Vanessa explain away things that bothered me.
Noah crying after dinner.
Noah refusing to sleep alone.
Noah becoming quiet whenever Jordan entered a room.
She always had an explanation.
He was sensitive.
He missed his mother.
He needed discipline.
And I had listened.
God help me, I had listened.
I reached for my phone.
Vanessa stepped forward.
"Who are you calling?"
"The police."
Her expression changed instantly.
"Marcus, don't be ridiculous."
I didn't answer.
I gave the dispatcher our address and explained that I'd interrupted someone threatening my six-year-old son with a bat.
I told her the child appeared uninjured but was terrified.
Then I said there was video evidence.
Vanessa began pacing.
"You're going to destroy this family over a stupid prank."
I looked at her.
"A prank?"
Jordan suddenly sat on the sofa.
He looked sick.
"Mom, stop."
Vanessa turned toward him.
"Don't you dare."
I tightened my arm around Noah.
The dispatcher told me officers were on their way.
I asked her to remain on the line while I moved Noah somewhere safe.
I carried him toward the small sitting room near the front entrance.
Our housekeeper, Mrs. Coleman, had already appeared in the hallway.
She was a kind woman in her sixties who had worked for me before I married Vanessa.
Her face was pale.
"Mr. Carter?"
"Please stay with us."
She nodded immediately.
I sat with Noah on a bench.
His teddy bear was still pressed against his chest.
I gently brushed a curl from his forehead.
"Baby, I need you to tell me something."
He looked frightened.
"Am I in trouble?"
"No."
"Promise?"
I swallowed.
"I promise."
His eyes filled.
"Even if Mommy Vanessa gets mad?"
I felt sick.
"Especially then."
He looked down at his bear.
"She said Daddy wouldn't believe me."
My chest tightened.
"She told you that?"
He nodded.
"When?"
His voice became tiny.
"When she made the other movies."
I felt like someone had punched me.
I wanted to demand every detail.
Every date.
Every person involved.
But I could see how frightened he was.
I took a breath.
"Sweetheart, you don't have to tell me everything right now."
He looked relieved.
I continued.
"What's important is that you're safe and that grown-ups who know how to help children are going to help us."
He looked toward the doorway.
"Will Jordan come back?"
I shook my head.
"Not near you tonight."
Noah buried his face against me.
A few minutes later, two police officers arrived.
I met them near the entrance while Mrs. Coleman stayed beside Noah.
One officer spoke with me.
The other secured the room and separated Vanessa and Jordan.
I showed them the recording.
The older officer watched silently.
When the video ended, his expression was grim.
"Sir, we're going to need the original file preserved."
I nodded.
"Whatever you need."
He looked at me.
"Has your son disclosed previous incidents?"
I swallowed.
"He said there are more videos."
The officer wrote something down.
"We'll arrange for someone trained in interviewing children to speak with him appropriately."
I nodded.
I was grateful.
Because I was barely holding myself together.
From the living room, Vanessa's voice rose.
"This is outrageous!"
I turned.
She was standing near the sofa, arguing with the second officer.
"I am that child's stepmother!"
The officer spoke calmly.
"Ma'am, please sit down."
Vanessa pointed toward me.
"His father is overreacting because he has never accepted my son's role in this family."
Jordan stood near the staircase.
His eyes were wet.
"Mom, please stop talking."
She turned on him.
"Jordan!"
He looked at me.
Then at the officers.
And whispered, "I want to tell the truth."
Vanessa's mouth fell open.
For the first time, she looked truly frightened.
The officer guided Jordan into another room.
I watched them leave.
My heart pounded.
I didn't know whether Jordan was telling the truth because he regretted what he'd done or because he was afraid of the consequences.
Maybe both.
But I knew one thing.
Noah would not be left alone with him again.
A child protection specialist arrived later that evening.
She spoke gently with Noah and explained that he wasn't in trouble.
I stayed nearby until he was comfortable.
Then I let the professionals do their jobs.
I had to resist the urge to ask questions myself.
I wanted answers desperately.
But I didn't want my fear to make my son feel responsible for comforting me.
After the initial interviews, the officers collected the bat and secured the phone used for recording.
They also documented the room.
Vanessa was furious.
Jordan looked devastated.
But I couldn't think about either of them.
I could only think about Noah.
When the specialist finished speaking with him, she approached me privately.
"Mr. Carter, your son has described a pattern of frightening incidents."
My knees weakened.
I gripped the edge of the table.
"What kind of incidents?"
She chose her words carefully.
"Threats, intimidation, and situations where he was pressured to perform for recordings."
I closed my eyes.
She continued.
"Some incidents may have involved punishments designed to frighten or humiliate him."
I felt tears rising.
"How long?"
"We're still establishing the timeline."
I nodded.
But I wasn't breathing properly.
The specialist placed a hand near my shoulder.
"Mr. Carter, your son needs stability right now."
I looked at her.
"He'll have it."
She nodded.
"Good."
A little after midnight, the officers finished their initial work.
Vanessa was not permitted to remain in the home with Noah that night under the safety arrangements being made.
Jordan was taken to stay with his maternal aunt while authorities determined the next steps.
The house was suddenly quiet.
Too quiet.
I carried Noah upstairs.
He clung to his teddy bear.
When we reached his bedroom, he stopped.
"Daddy?"
"Yes, baby?"
"Can I sleep with you?"
My throat closed.
"Of course."
He looked relieved.
I brought him into my room and tucked him beneath the blankets.
Then I lay beside him.
For several minutes, he stared at the ceiling.
Finally, he whispered, "Daddy?"
"I'm here."
"Did I make Mommy Vanessa leave?"
I turned toward him.
"No."
His eyes filled.
"Did I make Jordan get in trouble?"
I swallowed.
"Noah, the grown-ups are responsible for what happened."
He thought about that.
Then whispered, "But I cried in the videos."
I felt my heart break.
"Baby, crying when you're scared is not wrong."
He looked at me.
"Really?"
"Really."
He moved closer.
I wrapped my arms around him.
For a while, we lay quietly.
Then he whispered something that made me go completely still.
"Daddy, Mommy Vanessa said the videos were going to make us rich."
I looked down.
"What?"
He nodded sleepily.
"She said people pay to watch."
My blood turned cold.
May you like
And suddenly, I understood that Vanessa might have been doing more than frightening my son.
She might have been profiting from his fear.
