Page 64 of The Prez

“Good,” Raf says, still soothing. “I’ll have someone to you in fifteen minutes. Hold tight.”

Kit hangs up and I drop my head, crying softly. Raf pulls me into his arms, hugging me tightly, but pulls out his phone and barks some orders into it. When he hangs up, he dragsme onto his lap. “It’s okay, beautiful. I’m having the prospect get him now. He’ll have him here with you soon.”

“I should have done more. I should have dragged him away from that situation kicking and screaming.” I sob into his chest. “I wish he hadn’t gotten hurt.”

It takes everything not to grab the keys to Raf’s SUV and rush out the door, getting Kit myself. But if Brock does come back, I’m not sure I would be able to fight him off and Kit is too hurt to help. Raf made the right call, having someone to retrieve Kit, but I wish I could have gone with him.

Since I have nothing to do, I go to Little Raf’s nursery to make sure he’s still asleep. Kit’s sobbing was loud on while he was on speaker and it echoed in our room. I want to make sure the baby didn’t hear any of it.

When I check on Little Raf, he’s still out like a light, his arm over his eyes in a dramatic fashion. I smile through tears of worry for Kit and duck out of his room before my presence wakes him.

Ten minutes of me pacing and biting my nails later, headlights illuminate the living room. I rush to the front door, throwing it open just as a man of average height with really blond hair rounds the hood of the car and opens the passenger side door. He helps a slight Kit from the seat and my legs buckle as I take in his appearance.

His left eye is black and swollen shut, the tanned skin around his eyes looking shiny and painful. His lips are two sizes too big, swollen like balloons, dried blood on them and his chin. There are several knots on his forehead the size of eggs and there’s a missing patch in his wavy hair. His small frame trembles as he makes his way over to me, as if he’s in too much pain to keep still.

“Oh, Kit,” I wail, rushing over to him. I hug him gently, not sure where he’s hurt. Even then, he flinches and sobswhen I wrap my arm around him. “God, sweetie. What did he do?”

“You were right,” he says with tears leaking from his eyes. “He’s a monster. I should have?—”

“No. We’re not doing that. He made you fall in love with a lie and he exploited your good heart. All this is on Brock. Come on, sweetie,” I say, wrapping an arm around him to help him inside. “Let’s get you inside so you can lie down.”

The blond haired man trails behind us, keeping a safe distance after he takes a bag from the backseat.

I lead Kit over to the couch and sit him down, kneeling in front of him. “Where are you hurting?” I ask, though it’s a stupid question. He has to hurt everywhere.

He sniffles and tries to smile, but blood seeps from the corner of his mouth. Raf appears behind me almost from thin air with a cloth. Kit looks up at him and jumps hard, shrinking back into the couch.

“It’s okay,” I mutter, sitting beside him. “He’s my boyfriend. He won’t hurt you, I promise.” Kit trembles and I sit beside him, wrapping my arms around him. “I got you. I won’t let anyone else hurt you.”

From the corner of my eye, I see Raf whispering to the prospect, who has his head down. He keeps glancing at Kit with a worried expression, nodding as Raf speaks.

“You did good tonight, prospect,” Raf says loud enough for us to hear. “Go home and get some rest, Don. Come to the clubhouse day after tomorrow.”

He nods, gives Kit one more lingering look, then leaves.

Raf takes a step closer but stops when I shake my head. “I have a nurse coming by,” he says after taking a step back. “He’ll be here in a few minutes to check you out. I have a feeling you don’t want to go to a hospital.”

“No,” Kit says quietly. “They’ll try to admit me and he’ll find me there. He can’t … I can’t let him find me.”

Raf nods and looks at me. “I’ll be in the room until the nurse arrives.”

“Thank you, baby.” He dips his head and goes into our room but doesn’t shut the door.

Kit leans his head on my shoulder, silent tears leaking from his eyes. “I’m sorry, Omari. I shouldn’t have said that about your weight. I knew as soon as it left my mouth I was out of line.” I don’t tell him it’s okay because it’s not. He knows what he said was wrong. I won’t give him false platitudes. That’s a conversation we can have when he isn’t in pain and danger. “But like you said, he had my head all fucked up.”

“What happened? What changed?”

Kit wraps his arms around me, nestling closer. “I saw the messages he was sending you.” I gasp. I blocked Brock weeks ago. I didn’t think he’d keep the messages that I ignored. “I didn’t know he was trying to blackmail you for the money you owed him. He told me you were making excuses to not pay him and then you offered yourself to him.” He looks up at me with watery eyes, some tears leaking down his cheeks. “I confronted him for lying, showing him the screenshots I had. He got pissed that I went through his phone and attacked me. I shouldn’t have … I shouldn’t have touched it. But I was … I don’t know. I just …”

When he doesn’t say anything else for many long moments, I comfort him, patting his back. He flinches and I know he’s hurting there too. “Do you want to stay here? Or get out of town?”

“I have to go, Omari. If I stay here, I know he’ll find a way to get me back. I need distance between us so I can get stronger and be able to tell him no.”

“Okay. I’ll get you out of town. I have some money saved up. I can get you a plane ticket. A bus ticket if you don’t want to fly.”

He lifts his head, meeting my eyes with his one good and one swollen eye. The knots on his head look so painful. My eyes water just looking at how badly Brock beat him. “Look at my face,” he says, dragging a shaky hand up to his injuries. “I can’t get on a bus or plane like this.”

A knock at the door startles us both and Kit shrinks into me, tucking his head into my shoulder. Raf comes out of the room and answers the door, letting in a short Hispanic man with his hair cut close to his scalp and startling green eyes.

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