Page 66 of The Prez

Shane steps forward, holding his hand out. “I’m Shane. Nice to meet you.”

Kit looks at me and I nod. Pulling in a deep breath, Kit steps forward and shakes his hand. “Kit. Thank you for this.”

“Thank me,” Zeke says in a chipper tone. “I’m the one driving. Shane will be snoring in the passenger seat.”

I laugh tiredly, walking over to give Shane and Zeke a hug. “Thank you, Enforcer.”

“Anything for you, First Gentleman,” Zeke quips and I laugh again.

After I give Shane a quick hug, I walk over to Kit, pulling him into my arms. “Be careful. Get better, but do not come back here until you can say no to that abusive piece of shit.”

“I won’t.” Kit holds me at arm’s length, smiling sadly. “Thank you. I really hope we can be friends again.” He kisses my cheek, then limps over to Shane.

Shane carefully puts an arm around Kit’s shoulder and leads him out of the house. Zeke claps hands with Raf and they give each other a one-armed hug. “I’ll let you know when we get him out of town, Prez. Thanks for calling us.”

“Thanks for coming, Enforcer. See you soon, brother.”

Once they leave, Raf leads me to the bedroom, helping me undress and pulling me into bed. He lays on his back and drags me to his side, where I lie on his chest. My fingers dance across his torso, steering clear of the scar on his side. He wouldn’t tell me where it came from and I don’t want to ask again and upset him.

I’m so fucking tired. I just feel wrung out. Exhausted. Seeing Kit like that was hard. Regardless of how we ended things, it hurt seeing how bruised and battered he was. There was no way that was the first time Brock hit him. It just happened to be the worst.

“Are you okay?” Raf asks me in a hard voice.

“No. I just … that was really fucking hard.” I cry softly as I wrap my arms around him. “I hate that he did that to him. I fucking hate it.”

“Me too.”

It’s the way in which he said those two words that has me wiping my eyes and looking at him questioningly. “Raf? Is … did something happen?”

He takes my hand and places it at his side with the scar. He runs it back and forth over the scar that I wondered about the first time I saw him shirtless. “I despise abusive men.” He sits up against the headboard and pulls me up to lie against his chest. I try to move my hand, but he places it back on that jagged scar, holding it firm. “My papa. He was abusive. When I was a kid, he used to beat my mother often. Me and my sister, Maria, would have to clean her up and make sure she was okay. It took her years to leave him. But she managed it.”

I listen intently, sliding closer to him as I rub his scar.

“Right after I turned five, Mama met Elena’s father. They got married after she found out she was pregnant with Elena and we were supposed to be a happy family. But my papa kept popping up. Cuba is a large island, but he always seemed to find her somehow. After a while, Elena’s papa got tired of the threats, the disrespect, the bullshit. So, he took off. We tried to hide, bouncing around different family member’s houses, but he found us. I was fifteen then. Me and Elena were with Mama when he came over to the house my abuela left my mama. He broke in, drunk and angry. I woke up to him chasing her aroundthe house, throwing things and yelling, cursing her for having the audacity to leave him. I went to comfort Elena since she was only ten, but I resolved to help Mama. I was a man by then.”

My stomach drops because I have a feeling I know where this is headed. My heart thumps hard, banging against my rib cage. God, please don’t let him tell me what I think he is.

He swallows roughly, his voice hollow as he’s drawn back into his past. “After I told Elena to hide, I went to confront my papa. But I was too late. I didn’t know it at the time, but he’d already killed my mama. Beat her to death while I was trying to work up the courage to defend her. When I walked into the living room, I saw my mama on the floor and lost it. Me and my papa got into a fight. He uh …” Raf swallows and I snuggle closer, not wanting him to feel vulnerable if I’m looking at him talk about one of the darkest moments in his life. “He got me on my back and he got a few good hits in. He reached for a shard of glass from a vase and stabbed me in the side.” I hiss in sympathetic pain. He was only fifteen. It had to be brutal if it left this scar behind.

“I managed to flip him and get the upper hand. I grabbed a shard myself and stabbed him in the neck until Elena got my attention. I killed my papa. But I couldn’t save Mama. I was in a coma for a week after I was stabbed, Papa having nicked something in there to make me lose a lot of blood. Doctors weren’t sure I would wake up. When I finally regained consciousness, Elena was gone. I didn’t see or hear from her again. Not until she screamed at me to leave her alone when I finally tracked her down.”

“Fuck Raf, I’m so sorry,” I say, my voice thick with tears. “I didn’t know. I’m … baby, I’m sorry.” I kiss him gently and he returns it, his kiss tasting of sadness.

He rubs his hand over my face. “I failed her, Omari. I failed Elena. I failed them both. I’m a fuck up, baby.”

“Hush, now,” I whisper. “You’re not. Your father killed your mother. You avenged her. You’re not a failure. If anything, you were so brave when you stood up to him. You were a child. He was an abusive grown man.”

“But I?—”

I kiss him once more to quiet him. “No buts, Raf. You are strong. You’re not a failure. When you got old enough, you tried to get your sister and take care of her. There might be a story behind that, but it’s not on you. Is that why you are … the way you are?”

His voice is barely a whisper when he says, “I’m a failure, precioso. I couldn’t protect my mother. I wasn’t able to protect Elena. I wasn’t able to protect you. I wasn’t able to stop Pete from hurting. I’m not enough. I’m not enough for you. How could you love someone like me?”

I smile sadly at him. “Very easily.” I run a thumb over his cheek. “Even when you didn’t like me, you made sure I was taken care of.” Even though the name puts a bad taste in my mouth, I say, “You gave me money to pay Brock off, even when most people would have told me to fuck off. You comforted me when I felt like shit about Little Raf’s allergic reaction. You made me feel better when I was down about my weight. You’ve been good to me, Raf. What’s there not to love?”

“What if I can’t protect you?” His voice sounds so sad.

“I don’t need protection. I just need you to be my man. To be the rock for me that you have been. I don’t need more than that. If you’re not ready to love me, I can love you enough for both of us.”

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