Page 53 of The Prez

Home.I didn’t think I would consider Raf’s house mine when I started working for him. Sure, all my stuff was there, but I figured I’d be living out of my bags until the year was over.

But I’ve grown so comfortable there, my stuff migrating from the room Rafael gave me to his room over the past few weeks. It’s my home, where my favorite people are.

There’s no place I’d rather be.

I smile as I drive to the grocery store, thinking about home and my Rafs. Big Raf liked the lasagna I made weeks back, so I plan to make some for him tonight. I’m sure he’ll enjoy a hot meal after being with a baby all day.

I meander into the supermarket, pushing the cart down the aisles. I toss in the ingredients I need for dinner, humming along to the music playing on the speakers.

I’m lost in thought about what me and Little Raf have to do for the week when I hear my name being called. I look up, trying to find out who’s calling me and come face to face with Brock. My breath seizes in my chest as I meet his eyes. I haven’t seen him in weeks and haven’t heard from him, not since I blocked his number.

Before I can hurry away from him, forgetting about the fucking groceries, he catches my arm and pushes my back against the spaghetti sauce.

“Let me go,” I say through clenched teeth.

“Why would I do that?” he asks in an obnoxious voice. “You owe me money. It’s time I collect.”

“I don’t owe you shit!” I shout, snatching my arm away. “I paid you the money I owe you. I’ve had enough of your shit.”

I try to move around him but Brock pushes me back and I knock my head on the shelf. “I don’t give a fuck about what you’ve had enough of. I said one thousand dollars in a week. It’s been three and you ain’t paid up. You need?—”

“Is everything okay here?” someone says behind Brock. We turn and see store security standing there. I let out a sigh of relief and inch away from Brock.

“No,” I answer, gripping my cart. “He’s harassing me.” I point to Brock, watching his eyes flash with anger.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” the guard says, grabbing Brock by the arm. Brock snatches away as if he wants to try the guard, but he’s not only taller than Brock, but he’s more muscular. Brock backs down immediately.

He turns hard eyes on me. “This isn’t over, bitch,” he growls, then storms off.

The security guard watches him leave, then turns back to me. “You okay, sir?”

“Fine,” I breathe out. “Thank you.”

Fuck these groceries. I’ll pick something up closer to home. I should have known to go shopping on the Northside where I live. The Southside is Brock’s stomping grounds. My mind was so clouded with thinking of home that I didn’t think to go anywhere else.

Leaving the cart where it is, I hurry to the exit, looking left and right as I speed walk across the street. Like Hazel said, someone like Brock is dangerous and unhinged. Hedoesn’t like to be told no. He knows I don’t owe him money. I think he’s hoping I can’t get my hands on it and will finally let him fuck me. That will never happen.

When I see the SUV come into view, I pull out the keys, looking down to find the right one. Just as I look up, a fist connects with my jaw. I immediately drop to the ground, holding my mouth. A foot lands in my gut and I wheeze as the wind is knocked out of me. I look up with blurry eyes and see Brock standing over me, his face contorted in rage.

“You fucking motherfucker! You thought you could rob me?” he snarls, picking me up by the collar of my shirt and shaking me. He punches me in the stomach and I double over, coughing as he does it again. “You owe me, bitch.” He wraps his hand around my throat, choking me as he pushes me against my car. “Now, I said you owe me a grand. Now it’s two. You better have it tonight. Understand?” He drops me to the ground, but knees me in the chin before he walks away. My teeth knock together and I bite my tongue before I hit the pavement. My mouth immediately fills with blood and I cough and sputter, choking on it. I spit the blood out, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. The contrast of the blood is sharp against my light brown skin.

I’m not sure how long I sit there. I parked in the back of the lot so no one would ding Raf’s car, which means no one saw what happened.

Slowly, I drag myself up and climb into the car, my body in pain. It’s not too bad where I can’t move, but I want to lie down and rest for the next week.

The drive home is painful and I feel like I’m going to pass out, but I keep my eyes open and make it back home in one piece.

A motorcycle that’s not Big Raf’s is in the driveway. He must have company. Fuck, I wish no one else had to see melike this. I don’t want anyone else to see how weak I am and how I wasn’t able to take care of myself.

I wipe the blood from my chin as best I can, trying to straighten my clothes so it doesn’t look like I just got my ass beat in the parking lot of a supermarket. Maybe Raf and his company aren’t in the living room and I can slip by and hurry to the bathroom to clean myself up. There won’t be any hiding the bruises, but I can try.

No such luck. When I push the door open, Raf and Zeke turn to look at me. Raf’s smile drops when he takes in the state of my face and my dirty, wrinkled clothes.

With a growl, Raf walks over to me, shutting the door and crowding me, giving me the once over. Little Raf reaches for me with a giggle, unaware of what’s going on.

Gently, Raf takes my chin in his hand, his eyebrows drawn down and fire in his eyes. His voice is deceptively soft when he asks, “Who did this to you?”

“No one,” I whisper, not wanting him to get into any shit for me. Brock is an unhinged asshole, but he’ll go away eventually. Raf doesn’t need to involve himself with any of that bullshit.

---