Page 78 of The Prez

He makes to step in that direction but I don’t allow it. With strength I didn’t know I had, I leap up and charge at Brock, knocking him to the ground. When I have him on the back, I straddle his chest and land a swift punch to his face. His head whipping to the side and blood flowing from his nose emboldens me. I try to punch him again, but he throws me off him easily, tossing me against the TV stand.

Brock wipes his bleeding nose and grabs me by my hair, pulling me to my feet. I hiss, my hands weakly trying todislodge his. He puts me in a headlock, applying pressure to my throat. It’s all I can do to breathe, my blunt nails scrapping across his arms in an attempt to remove his hands. “Let’s see,” he says in a casual voice, even though he’s breathing heavily. “You owe me money. You convinced Kit to leave me. And you sent your bitch ass biker friends after me. Think that covers your transgressions?” He puts more pressure on my throat and my eyes bulge.

Even though it’s hard to breath, I chuckle. “Those bikers … weren’t … bitches … when they … fucked you … up,” I force out. I know I’ll pay for it, but this dig is important. “Your nose … looks … a little … crooked. That … had to be … Zeke.”

He roars and punches me in the face again and my body goes limp without me giving it the command. I’m still aware of everything, but there’s nothing I can do to block his attacks. Brock lets me drop to the ground, but I can’t move my arms or legs to protect myself. He kicks me over and over, in my face, back, chest, and belly. I groan, willing my body to do more than lie there, but there’s no such luck.

When he’s had enough of stomping me out, he grabs me by the hair again, his arm pulled back as if to punch me again. But for some reason, he stops and looks around. His face pales and he drops me heavily. He stands, glancing left and right, then darts off through the front door. I’m not sure what caused him to leave, but I don’t care about that right now. I only care about getting to Little Raf, to make sure he’s okay.

After a few seconds, I manage to flip over to my back, but even that hurts more than words can describe. I don’t stop moving though. My hearing is dim, but I can just make out the baby’s cries as I drag myself across the floor. I’m almost to his broken-down door when my vision starts to blacken at the edges and swim violently.

No! Please no. I have to get to him. I need to make sure he’s okay. I pray to whoever is out there to let me get to my baby, but I don’t have the strength. I don’t have the energy.

Before my body gives out completely and darkness takes me under, I hear the sweet sound of a motorcycle engine. Then I hear and see nothing.

CHAPTER 21

RAFAEL

I knowsomething isn’t right when I try to call Omari three times, but he doesn’t answer. He usually has his phone on him and I never have to repeatedly call to get in touch with him. He knows how I am when it comes to him and Little Raf’s safety, so he humors me and makes sure he answers, even when he’s in the bathroom.

When he doesn’t answer the third time, I scoop up my helmet and keys, throwing on my jacket and my cut. I’m speed walking when I call a fourth time. I’m all out running when the voicemail kicks on for the fourth time.

Zeke calls after me, but I ignore him, throwing my leg over my chopper and lifting the kickstand. I start her up and I’m backing up when my enforcer reaches me. “What’s going on?”

“Can’t get ahold of Omari,” I say quickly.

Zeke doesn’t question it. He knows I’ve been through this dance too many times— something happening and I have to rush off. I’m honestly fucking sick of it.

“Prospect, go get my helmet,” Zeke says to Donovan, who is picking up leaves from the rock piles around the courtyard.He rushes off with no questions. “Prez, give me a second and I’ll go with you.”

I start to tell him no, but every time I’ve had to rush off, I either had someone with me or wished I had someone with me. Sighing, I nod, tapping my foot, impatient to get going.

Donovan comes back quickly, handing Zeke his keys and his jacket. Zeke hurries over to his bike and climbs on, starting it quickly. The prospect rushes over to the gate and opens it up and Zeke and I take the hill down to the main road. This is one of the times I wish the clubhouse wasn’t built so far from the road and away from town.

Luck is on our side because we only hit one light and it’s the one as soon as we get into town. From there, Zeke and I gun it. My heart rate kicks up the closer we get to the house. I put on speed, trying to get there as quickly as I can to check on my family. No cops are around, so we’re able to get within a few miles of my house going about thirty over the limit.

Jace calls when we’re only a few blocks away. I answer through the Bluetooth in my helmet. “What happened? Donovan said you rode out of here like a bat out of hell.”

Yelling to be heard over the wind, I say, “Omari … I can’t … something’s wrong.”

Over the breeze blowing past me, I hear hustling and soft voices. “I was at home, so I’ll be there a few minutes after you.” He hangs up and I swallow past the lump in my throat, hoping I’m just being paranoid. I’m hoping I’ll get home and storm in and Omari will scold me for scaring Little Raf with my stressed-out energy. He said he had to go to the mall. Maybe his phone is in Little Raf’s diaper bag on vibrate or some shit. I try to think of any excuse that I haven’t heard from my man and my baby.

When we get within eyesight of the house, my stomach plummets to my feet as I see the door hanging wide open. Ipull up to the curb and put my kickstand down, then run across the lawn, not even bothering to turn my bike off.

I push through the door and take in three things all at once. The house is a mess—the television knocked to the ground, the table turned over, the pictures Omari took great pains to arrange on the walls on the floor in a heap—Little Raf’s cries that can be heard loud and clear from his room, and Omari lying unconscious in the Little Raf’s doorway, his head surrounded by blood. Déjà vu kicks in, thinking of how I found my mother when Raul attacked and killed her. Is this the same thing? Is my Omari … is he …

“Oh fuck,” I croak, hustling over to him. “Oh baby. Who did this to you?” With trembling fingers, I press two to his neck, checking for a pulse. I let out a sharp, relieved breath when I feel it thumping under my fingers.

“Go,” Zeke says, pushing me into the room. “Let me check him and you get the baby.”

I want to lash out, to tell Zeke to leave me the fuck alone and let me be with Omari, but I need to check on Little Raf. If Omari were conscious, he would tell me to do the same thing. I rush into the room and look down at the crib, but I don’t see the baby. Eyebrows dipped, I look around the room but don’t see him anywhere.

Another loud cry sounds and my head whips to the closet. I open it carefully and find Little Raf on his hands and knees, as if he crawled over to the door. His face is wet, red, and blotchy. When he sees me, he stops crying and start sniffling, crawling over to me.

I scoop him up, patting his back and kiss the top of his head as I rush back to Zeke and Omari. They’re in the same position I left them, with Zeke whispering to Omari.

“Is he awake?” I ask, calming the baby more.

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