Page 77 of The Prez

Shane: That would be great. See you two tomorrow.

I slide the phone back into the cupholder and pull off at the light after someone honks behind me. Impatient fuckers.

We arrive at home a few minutes later and I get Little Raf out of the car and decide to get his clothes from the back when Big Raf is home. Something is telling me to get inside now!

I hurry in, not relaxing until I have the door shut and locked behind me. I lean against it, letting out a long breath. My heart rate hasn’t decreased, but I can relax on the couch until it does. Little Raf makes a babbling noise as I hold him on my hip. I look down at him and smile. “I know I’m freaking out. I don’t know?—”

Thundering noises jar me as what sounds like a foot connects with the door at my back, scaring me so badly I scream. Little Raf starts to cry and I try to calm him as I back away from the door, watching it shake on its hinges.

“I told you I’d get you!” A man’s voice reaches me over the deafening sound of wood giving and my blood runs cold.

Brock.

How did he find me? What does he fucking want? Money? This can’t be about money for him to go through all this to get to me. Could it be because of Kit? He knows I helped him get out of town judging from one of his texts.

Before I can figure out my next move, the door splinters off the hinges and I see an irate Brock glaring at me.

I take off, running to Little Raf’s room and shutting us in. I know it won’t hold him, since he got through the front door so easily, but I need to get the baby to a safe place before Brock attacks.

I send up a silent prayer that he won’t hurt the baby as I rush to his closet and open the door. Since I packed up most of his clothes, Little Raf’s closet is empty. Quickly, I stash him inside, my heart thumping as I look into his crying face, his cheeks red and wet from the force of his sobs. “I’m sorry, big man,” I say quickly as I gently push him back from crawling towards me. “You gotta hold tight. I’ll be back for you, I promise.” A tear slips from my eye as Little Raf lies on his back, his fists clenched in the air as he bawls his eyes out.

Just as I’m shutting the closet door, Little Raf’s door iskicked in and Brock is standing there, a sinister smile on his face. “I knew it was only a matter of time until I found you.”

Little Raf is crying at the top of his lungs but I can’t go to him. All I can do is get Brock as far away from him as I can until he gets what he came for or Raf comes. I curse myself for leaving my phone in the car. But I was so scared that I didn’t think to grab it before getting me and Little Raf inside.

Brock is too close to my baby. Swallowing roughly, I shout, “Fuck you, you piece of shit!”

With a cry, I rush at Brock and ram my body into his, my shoulder knocking into his chest. I take him by surprise, so he flails back, tumbling over the back of the couch.

Unfortunately, my momentum takes me with him and I land heavily on the coffee table. It’s sturdy, so it doesn’t break, but it’s not soft. The wind is knocked out of me, but I scramble up. My vision swims as I try to take in any oxygen I can, but my lungs are seizing up.

Brock takes that time to slap me across the face, causing me to stumble back into the television. “You took Kit away from me!” he roars, rushing at me.

I duck under his outstretched hands, but he’s fast, grabbing the back of my shirt. He pulls me back hard and I fall back against the coffee table. My back arches as the heavy wood of the table digs into my soft flesh.

His booted foot comes down on my face and my nose explodes. I cry out, my hands coming up to the injury. “Fucking meddling bitch!” Brock shouts, kicking me in the abdomen. My hands drop to my belly, trying to protect my vital organs. “You convinced him to leave me!”

Brock brings his boot down on my side and a burst of pain lights up inside me. “Fuck!” I shout, crawling away from him.

He doesn’t allow me to get far. Brock grabs me by my curls, yanking my head back. “Where is he?” he snarls in myface. I try to shake him off, but he just pulls harder. “Where?” he yells again.

I reach back with one hand and try to strike him. I get one good hit in before he moves out of my reach and slaps me hard across the face. Since he’s behind me, I didn’t see it coming and couldn’t brace myself. I cry out, blood leaking from my mouth. “I don’t know!” I lie. No matter what he does to me, I won’t tell him where Kit is. He’s gone and Brock won’t get to him again.

Brock turns me onto my back, placing his hand around my throat. I kick out at him, getting a good shot in on his stomach. He curses and moves away, but comes back almost immediately, straddling my waist and immobilizing my arms. He backhands me across the face, making my vision white out for a second from the force of it. “Tell me where the fuck he is. I will fucking kill you if you don’t.” My breathing hitches. All I can think about is Little Raf in that closet and what will happen to him if Brock does succeed in killing me. But I can’t tell him where Kit is. Not so he can go and kill him. I just pray that when he beats me to a pulp, he’ll leave and not hurt the baby.

Though it hurts and my heart is pounding a frantic rhythm, I fold my lips over my teeth, not willing to give Brock anything.

“Come on,” Brock says in a faux soothing voice as he grabs both my hands in one of his fists so I can’t try to lash out at him again. “He was a terrible friend to you. Remember how he called you fat and sloppy and said you don’t deserve love? He said that right to your face, remember? I was there.” Kit never said those things, so I know Brock is trying to get a rise out of me. I’m glad I have someone like Raf around to tell me my body is fine the way it is, or I would have broken from Brock’s words. “Why would you protect someone like that?” Brock runs a rough hand through the tears and bloodon my cheek. Glaring at me, I spit in his face, a mix of saliva and blood hitting him almost in the eye. I smile when he rears back, a disgusted sound leaving his mouth.

He doesn’t like that. He lets my hands go to wipe his face and I immediately start hitting him, getting a few shots to his face and I scratch his throat before he can get his bearings. If he’s going to beat my ass, I’ll give him a few knocks and bruises.

With a snarl, he grabs both sides of my head and slams it on the ground twice. I’m stunned, my vision dimming to pinpricks. I can’t focus on anything, my vision swimming wildly, two Brocks winking in and out of sight. My hearing fuzzes out as I throw my hands up to protect my face. I only hear snatches of what he’s saying as he punches where my hands are guarding. “… all you had …”—punch— “… was give …”—punch— “… suck my dick …”—punch.

Breathing heavily, he climbs off me, wiping his mouth. I curl into a ball, wanting to pass out to escape the pain, but forcing myself to stay alert to ensure Brock doesn’t go to Little Raf’s room and try to use him to make me talk.

Almost as if reading my mind, Brock’s head whips in the direction of Little Raf’s room, the baby’s cries audible, even through the closed closet door.

A sinister smile crosses Brock’s face. “Maybe if I hurt that little shit in there, you’ll tell me what I want to know.”

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