Page 87 of The Prez

“I will.” I give him one more kiss just as a nurse steps into Omari’s room with meds. “I’m leaving,” I tell her, holding my hands up. I place one more light kiss to his forehead, tell Omari I love him and leave.

Heading to Hazel’s to get my kid.

CHAPTER 23

OMARI

Two months later…

Rafael is a sweetheart, but he fucking hovers.

I had been discharged from the hospital two days after he came to my room so late that evening with battered hands and a bruise high on his cheek. I didn’t ask exactly what he did, but I had an inkling.

And I’m glad. If he didn’t do whatever he did to ensure Brock didn’t come after me again, I would spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder. But Raf said he won’t be seen anymore and I believe him. I’m safe.

After I got home, Raf had hovered over me day and night. The doctors told him I had to recover for four to six weeks and he made sure I didn’t do any strenuous activity. Recovery was a bitch, made even harder because I couldn’t pick up Little Raf like I wanted to. Big Raf helped in that regard, holding the baby while he sat as close to me as he could without hurting my ribs or my incision sites. Little Raf didn’t understand why I couldn’t hold him and would whineand cry when I had to tell him no. My heart broke every time.

Raf took no strenuous activity to heart, which meant he didn’t do more than kiss me for almost six weeks. I got to point where I wanted to scream, my cock was so hard and my balls so blue I thought I’d combust. I knew Raf felt it too, because more times than not, I’d feel his hard dick against me, even if he were just lying in bed.

By the time I had gotten the all-clear from the doctor that I was healed and wouldn’t need to come back for any follow up appointments, I was ready to explode.

Zeke and Shane had Little Raf that day so I could rest after my appointment, but we didn’t do much resting. When we got home, I had Raf’s pants around his ankles and his cock halfway down my throat before he knew it. From there, Raf had gotten with the program and fucked me six ways from Sunday, deep dicking me until I couldn’t walk straight.

A week after I was able to resume normal activities, Raf asked if I wanted to take a ride to North Carolina with him. Of course I said yes, wanting to help him close that chapter in his life.

We leave with Little Raf a few days later, driving the few hours to Ashville, North Carolina to clean out his sister’s house. Prez said he paid a company to clean the kitchen, removing all the food from the freezer, refrigerator, and the cabinets. He had no idea when he would feel up to packing up the entire house, so he continued to pay her mortgage until he was ready.

“I want to go through her house,” he told me one day when we were lying on the couch, Little Raf tucked close to me as he slept. “I want to collect some pictures and keepsakes for the baby. Besides, movers are impersonal. They won’t take care of her stuff like someone who knows her would.”

It’ll be a lot of work to get the house packed up, but someof the brothers from the Hunterfield chapter in Georgia will meet us there so we can get through it quicker. After Raf checks through the rooms, he’ll give them the go ahead so they can pack the things he needs packed.

We pull up to the house around noon. It’s nice—a homey, one story brick house with a nice porch and a beautiful lawn. I wonder who is taking care of it, then I figure Raf has been paying a gardener.

Stepping inside the house is eerie. Nothing has moved for the past few months, a stale smell lingering in the air. A book is open and folded on the arm of the couch, like whoever was reading it planned to come back and finish it. Curious, I step over and check the spine to see the title. It looks like a romance book, so it might be what Elena was reading. I smile sadly, then continue to look around.

Coats are hung on the coat rack behind the door—two adult jackets and a cute baby one. Walking further into the house, I can’t stop my lip from trembling as I see place settings on the dining room table, a highchair close by.

I put Little Raf down, who waddles around the living room. He’d learned to walk a few weeks ago and tries to do that as often as possible. I follow behind him, looking around at the photos on the wall and on the mantle of the fireplace. I pull one down and stare at Elena and Alejandro. She was beautiful, the same hawklike eyes her brother has, same facial features, and the same beautiful, swarthy brown skin. But where Raf scowls and frowns all the time—well, he used to—Elena’s smile is wide and honest, stretching across her face. But if I look closely, I can spot a bit of sadness in her eyes. Was it because she missed her brother?

Putting the picture down, I turn to Raf, who’s holding one of Little Raf’s hands as he walks carefully. “Where do we start?” I ask.

Raf shrugs. “The rooms?”

Agreeing, I walk down the hall and open the doors. The first one must be the marital bedroom, clothes and other items still strewn about. The next room is the nursery, set up in bright blues and yellows, a rocking chair just like the one we have at home in the corner.

Little Raf waddles around the corner, falls on his butt, then crawls over to where I’m standing. I smile and scoop him up. “This was your room, sweetie,” I say, feeling sad for him. This should still be his room. A cruel twist of fate took his parents from him.

The sounds of motorcycles rent the air after we pull out boxes and start taping them up. A moment after they’re turned off, there’s a knock at the door. Raf answers it, and three men I’ve never seen before step inside. Raf introduces me to Greg, Mitch, and Phillip, three guys from the Georgia chapter. They help us tape boxes and they get started packing up the kitchen.

Raf and I make our way to Little Raf’s old room, set him on the floor with his old toys and start packing everything. We put aside his books and toys, then his photos that were on his walls of him and his parents so we can add them to his photo album. Big Raf says he wants him to know his parents. We don’t know much about his father yet, but we plan to do some digging to get all the information for Little Raf.

After we finish that room, we move on to the bathroom. Little Raf starts getting antsy, so I rock him to sleep while keeping Big Raf company. He might look all stoic, like this isn’t bothering him, but over the past five months, I’ve learned to read him. His eyes tell it all and while they’re still fierce, they’re pulled down at the corners, like he’s fighting to hold it together.

“How you doin’?” I ask softly when he tapes up another box.

He sighs, resting his elbows on his knees as he sits on theside of the tub. “Not good. But it’s bearable because you’re here. You and Little Raf.”

I carefully move around the box, sitting beside him as Little Raf snores on my shoulder. “What can I do?”

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