Page 21 of The Prez

“That’s your job,” he says and pushes past me, picking up his jacket and helmet. “I have shit to do.”

“Wait,” I say, my heart hammering as I turn in his direction. “I was wondering. Well, I was … I wanted to know …”

“Fucking spit it out,” he lashes out, radiating impatience.

“Fine.” I square my shoulders and meet his sharp gaze, heart still beating triple time. “Can I have an advance? I owe someone a lot of money because you took the pills I was selling.”

He takes two steps towards me, getting in my face. His nostrils flare as he snarls at me. “You came into my fucking house selling drugs without my fucking permission. I would have killed anyone else that tried the shit you did.”

“Yeah? Well, why didn’t you?” I snap, irritated that he can’t just answer my fucking question.

“No fucking clue, but it was a fucking mistake. If only to stop your fucking yapping. You really have a death wish talking to me like this.”

“I’m not one of your biker men, Big Raf. I’ve told you to stop threatening me. That shit is going to get old real fast. Either you give me the fucking money or you don’t. I told you it’s a damn advance. If you don’t, I’ll find another way.” I almost blurt out that I’ll probably end up with my ass beat in some back alley if he doesn’t give me the money, but I don’t want his fucking pity.

He grunts, nodding to the money on the table. “Why didn’t you just take that? Ain’t like I would have known.”

“Because I’m not a fucking thief. I’m asking for an advance so I can work for it. If I had taken the money, it would be stealing from my employer. Despite how we met, Ihave work ethic.” I really wish I was never in such a bad spot to have to resort to selling drugs for a snake like Brock, but I can’t turn back the hands of time.

His eyes reflect what I think is respect. “How much do you need?”

“Two grand.”

“Count out what’s on the table and let me know how much you need after that. Now if there’s nothing else, I have to fucking go. And you have a baby to take care of.”

“Yeah, a baby you haven’t even asked about. You don’t even?—”

“Don’t give a fuck about updates about him,” he says and turns his back on me. “Do the fucking job I’m giving you an advance for.”

Then he hustles out the door, leaving me standing in the middle of the floor with an aching heart. How can he be so callous? Little Raf is an innocent baby. After losing his parents, the least he should have is a parental figure that loves him.

I start to unpack Little Raf’s belongings, setting them up in his room and putting his bookshelf together. He wakes up just as I’m adding the last book to his shelf. I pick him up out of his crib, holding him close as he whines against my chest. “Hey big man. Guess what? I put your bookshelf together and got you plenty of toys. We’re going to have some fun now. You ready for that?”

Little Raf lays on my shoulder, putting his chubby little fist in his mouth.

I take him into the living room and set him in his new pack and play as I clean up the trash. Once that’s finished, I get started on baby proofing, plugging up outlets, add corner protectors to tables, and add some cabinet locks. It’s probably overkill, but better safe than sorry. The twins neededevery bit of baby proofing that existed and some that didn’t. Not taking chances with Little Raf.

When all that is done, I sit on the couch and pull Little Raf into my arms, turning on some sing along video from a streaming service.

He waves his fists in the air, gurgling as he looks at all the colors on the screen.

While he entertains himself with whatever the people on the video are singing, I pull out my phone and open a new text thread. I added Shane’s number when he gave me his card, so I pull up the contact and send him a quick text.

Me: Hi, Shane? It’s Omari. I hope I’m not interrupting.

I get a text back five minutes later.

Shane: Hi Omari. Not interrupting at all. I’m actually leaving work right now. How is everything going?

Me: Okay. Little Raf is great. Such a sweet baby.

Shane: I need to come see him. I miss his little face.

I smile, then pull up the camera app and snap a picture of the baby while he’s smiling at the television.

Shane: He’s so adorable. How about you two come visit me and Zeke one day? We have a dog, a Pitbull rescue. I hope that’s okay?

Me: We’d love to. And I like dogs.

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