Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

OMARI

Cuba was amazing. I had more fun than I thought I would, especially being around an escaped convict that murdered a prison guard. Though Rax is very prickly, I like him. He reminds me of Raf a lot in the way both of them are so stoic and can appear unfeeling.

But like with Raf, I caught glimpses of how strongly Rax felt for Finn. He always searched out Finn in a room, always deferred to him when making a decision, and his eyes shone with love whenever he looked at his boyfriend. More than once, when Finn wasn't paying attention, I would catch Rax giving him small smiles, simply enjoying being in his company.

I want what they have. They're both so free with their love and devotion to one another, it's almost scary.

Even after our trip to Cuba, Raf is holding himself back from me. For some reason I can't explain, there's a tiny sliver of disconnect there. I wish I knew what it was so I could fix it, but when I ask, Raf tells me everything is okay. I'm not sure if I believe him .

Little Raf absolutely loved Cuba. He seemed more relaxed there in the warm climate, with clear skies and the fresh air that seeps into every part of the island. I can't wait to go back. Hopefully, next time we can stay a little longer and Big Raf won't have to disappear for hours with Rax. I know he said it was a work thing, but I want him to relax the entire time he's visiting home.

Maria was really sweet, making me feel welcome. Raf said she was overbearing, but she reminded me a lot of how Hazel is with me, making sure Raf was taken care of and was happy.

The week after we return from our trip, I'm going through Little Raf's clothes and realize I have to donate majority of his wardrobe. He's growing so fast that he's outgrown most of his clothes.

Grabbing my phone, I shoot Raf a text.

Me: I'm going to go shopping with Little Raf. He needs clothes. Big man is growing like a weed.

Raf answers back about twenty minutes later, when I have two bags of clothes that are too small for Little Raf set aside.

Raf: Do you want to order clothes so you don't have to go out?

Me: Nah. It'll be nice to walk Little Raf around the mall.

Raf: You need to take someone with you .

I roll my eyes but appreciate his worry.

Me: I'll be fine, baby. We haven't heard from Brock since we got back. I'm sure if it was him, he's given up by now.

The day before we got back to the states was the last message I received. It said, "You got lucky." I'm not sure if it means I got lucky he's given up or I got lucky that he couldn't find me. Either way, it's been a week of radio silence. I'll take that as a win.

But I want to appease Raf since he's only trying to protect me.

Me: I'll ask Shane to tag along.

Raf doesn't answer back, so I figure he's busy with MC stuff. I shrug and pull up the text thread between me and Shane.

Me: Hey, me and Little Raf are heading to the mall. Wanna join?

I wait around for a little while for Shane to text me back, but when thirty minutes rolls by with no answer, I get dressed and pack Little Raf's diaper bag. We won't be out too long. The mall is right outside town and I only want to go to the children's stores. We'll be in and out.

We arrive at the mall fifteen minutes later. Luckily, the children's store I want to visit most is just past the food court where I parked.

Once inside, I beeline to the twelve months size. Little Raf's long legs don't fit in the nine-month size he should be in and his height and weight are a little outside of his age range. His pediatrician says that's fine, that he's a growing baby, so we're not worried.

Since I started working for Big Raf, he's given me a bank account to use for any expenses Little Raf will need and it has way more money in it than necessary. So along with the clothes he needs right now, I decide to buy him some winter clothes and a few pairs of shoes a few sizes up.

As I'm looking through the sweaters, the hairs on the back of my neck stands on end. I feel like someone is watching me. As discreetly as I can, I look up and check my surroundings, but don't see anyone. I shake it off and push the clothes on the rack, but the uneasy feeling doesn't go away. Again, I look around to make sure someone isn't staring at me. There are only a few people in the store, including the employees and all of them are busy helping customers and parents are focused on shopping for their kids.

I lower my head and chuckle. Raf has me paranoid. Since we got back from Cuba, he's been sending one of his guys with me everywhere I go. Walking around with a bodyguard was more weird than I could say. I've gotten to know most of the guys in the club, including the prospect. They seem like good guys, if a little rough around the edges. Even if they don't have many words for me, they always talk to and play with Little Raf.

Being out alone after a week of having a constant shadow must be getting to me. I wish Shane had come with me. At least I would have someone to talk to and wouldn't feel like someone is watching me.

It takes effort, but I make myself go to the second store I wanted to visit for Little Raf. The uneasy feeling has gone away, so I figure I was just paranoid that I'm out without an escort.

After I spend way too much money in that store, I struggle with the bags and the stroller and get us outside. As quickly as I can, I put the baby in the SUV and stash all the bags in the back. For some reason, my heart is pounding and my hands are shaking and sweaty. Once again, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, as if something or someone is right behind me, waiting to grab me.

I hurry into the driver's seat, slamming and locking the doors. The keys slip from my trembling hands, landing on the floor with a thud. "Shit," I curse, bending quickly to pick them up. When I get them into the ignition, I force myself to relax, resting my head on the steering wheel.

"Fucking calm down," I mutter to myself. I look in the rearview mirror and meet Little Raf's eyes in his mounted car seat mirror. "I'm trippin', ain't I?"

My expressive charge lifts an eyebrow at me, just like his uncle, as if to say, ya think?

I chuckle and put the car in gear. "Yeah, I know. I'm cool now. I'm cool."

I turn the radio on, trying to do anything that will drive away the tense feeling in my chest, but it's lodged deeply. Something isn't right. I'm not sure what it is, but something feels off. I need to get back home and lock me and Little Raf in until Big Raf gets there .

My phone pings in the cup holder and I jump, heart galloping behind my rib cage at the loud, sudden vibrating noise. I scoop it up when I get to a red light. It's a text from Shane.

Shane: I'm sorry, I was in court when you texted. I'm swamped with notes and depositions today. Zeke will be pissed that I'm staying late. Want to go tomorrow? I could use some Little Raf time. Oh, it will be great to see you too. *winking emoji* *laughing emoji* *angel emoji*

I bark a laugh at his excessive use of emojis. Just reading his message has my heart rate calming and that increased feeling of awareness dissipating.

Me: It's cool. We're heading home now. Me and Little Raf can swing by tomorrow if you'd like.

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 is kicked 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 my face. 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 blood on 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."

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 to dislodge 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.