Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

OMARI

"Sheesh, Little Raf," I mutter, wrinkling my nose as I change his diaper. "Way to have a blowout before we leave."

He kicks his feet with a gurgle, making even more of a mess as I try to wipe poop from his legs and back. This is more than a blowout—this is a full-blown crisis. With a sigh, I wipe him down as best I can, then pull out his little bathtub so I can give him a bath.

When I sit him in the warm water, Little Raf immediately starts kicking his feet and tries to pick up some of the bubbles and water, his chubby hands opening and closing around the soapy liquid. I smile down at him, running the cloth over his body.

"Yeah, you get to have fun while I have to clean your messy butt," I tease him, poking him in his squishy belly. Little Raf stops going for the bubbles and tries to catch my finger, a gleeful sound escaping his lips when he has it. "That's my finger, big man. Give it back so I can get you cleaned up and bust you out of here. Today is the day for fresh air!" I say with excitement. Like he understands me, he kicks his feet harder, getting water everywhere .

It's a real shame his uncle is missing out on all this. I've only been here two days and Big Raf hasn't so much as looked at Little Raf. He doesn't say his name. Just says "him" or points when he asks me a question about Little Raf.

This isn't what this cute, amazing little baby deserves. He needs a parent. Shane said his biological parents are no longer here, so Big Raf needs to step up.

But I can't make him. He's a grown ass man with a chip on his shoulder and a scary fucking attitude. He could chew me up and spit me out if I tried to tell him what to do. He has to come to us on his own.

To Little Raf. Not us. There is no us.

My brain wishes there was. Because fuck, everything about Big Raf is fucking fire. His looks, his body, all those colorful tattoos, and yes, even his growly attitude. I should not like it, not even a little bit. And normally, I wouldn't. Big Raf is so far from my type, he may as well be a Martian. I'm usually into the bookish and studious type.

That's not Big Raf at all. But he has my attention.

Blowing out a frustrated breath, I finish bathing Little Raf, making sure he's all clean before I dry him, apply a light layer of lotion, and get him dressed. He smiles and laughs the whole time.

He's such a happy baby.

"Come on, troublemaker," I say to the baby as I sniff the top of his head to get some of that sweet baby scent. "Let's get out of here before you poop on me again." Little Raf looks at me with those big brown eyes and I can't help but be reminded of his uncle.

Big Raf's eyes aren't as wide, but they're the same whiskey brown and just as Little Raf is now, his uncle stares at me like he can see through my soul.

I shouldn't be thinking about him like that. For one, he's my boss. For another, he's scary as fuck. But God, I like his snarly attitude. There's something so arousing about it, especially when Big Raf crowds me so he can bark some angry words at me.

That has never been my jam. I steer clear of the men with tough guy attitudes and go for the men that were emotionally available and not looking to play games. Big Raf is not that guy. But he's nice to look at.

I scoff, walking outside to get Little Raf strapped in so we can go to the store. There's no way someone that looks like Big Raf could want someone like me. I'm not ugly, but he's probably not the type to date a chubby guy if he even likes guys. Seeing his body the day before—all hard muscles, rippling abs, and deceptively fit arms—he wouldn't look twice at someone like me.

What Kit says pings around my head, further cementing my own thoughts. Why would Big Raf want a chubby guy when he can find someone that's fit and in shape, just like him? Someone talking shit about my weight usually didn't bother me so much, but since it was Kit that said it, it makes me believe he thought that all the years we were friends and just lied to me. That's what hurts the most.

Sighing, I get Little Raf strapped in and get into the car. I went to grab my clothes yesterday evening after Big Raf took off for hours instead of going today when I told him I would. I was thankful Hazel was home and able to help me. I would have had to make several trips back and forth to the car since I had Little Raf with me. She cooed all over him, telling me I have to bring him by one day so she can get her baby fix. We're having lunch as soon as I'm done shopping today so she can get her fix before I spend a few hours with her and the twins this weekend.

Big Raf left a stack of bills on the table yesterday for me to get everything Little Raf would need, but he added way too much money. I peeled off enough money to shop and left the rest, even though I'm sure he wouldn't have noticed if I took it all.

I could use the money left on the table. It was over two grand—what I need to pay Brock back. But I'm not a thief. He gave me the money to buy stuff for Little Raf, not pay off my debts. I'll just ask him for an advance on my pay.

God, I hate the thought of that. He already looks at me like I'm a piece of shit; I can only imagine what he'll think of me when I ask him for an advance of two thousand dollars because I can't be a proper drug dealer.

Though, what the fuck was I thinking anyway? I keep kicking myself for accepting Brock's offer. I should have known fast money was not good money. But hindsight is twenty-twenty. I have to fix my mistakes. I have a job and I'm trying to make up for it. It just sucks that I have to work for free for a few weeks before I can afford the things I need.

I turn on some Disney songs on my music app for Little Raf, singing a few myself at the top of my lungs. Little Raf babbles in the backseat, enjoying the ride and the songs until we pull up to Target.

We walk around the store, and I add all the things the baby needs to the cart. He has nothing. No toys, no books, no games. I looked around his room and only found clothes and diapers. Besides toys, books, games and other odds and ends, I grab decorations for the baby's room. They'll liven the nursery up, give it a pop of color.

While I'm at it, I add a few things for the house in general. Nothing too expensive, just a small potted plant and a few of those stupid little pictures with affirmations like ‘Breathe Deep, Love Hard' and ‘Live, Laugh, Love' on them. I chuckle, thinking about Big Raf living, laughing, or loving. I guess it'll be my benefit to see the look on his face when he steps inside and sees it hanging on his wall.

I also grab a few picture frames just in case I catch a candid shot of him and Little Raf doing … anything. The chances of that are slim to none, but a little piece of my love-filled heart is holding out hope that I'm wrong and they'll be as thick as thieves one day, despite how cold he is now.

By the time I'm finished shopping for everything Little Raf and our home needs, I'm fucking exhausted. I planned to go grocery shopping after I was finished, but I think that'll be tomorrow's trip.

My phone rings as soon as I start the car from packing Little Raf and all of our shit inside. I put it on speaker so I'm hands free while I have the baby in the car. "Hey Hazel," I say when I answer.

"Hey. We're still on for lunch, right?"

"Yep. I just finished in Target. Where do you want to eat?"

"That diner downtown with those good burgers. You know the one?"

I let her know I do and we agree to meet there in fifteen minutes.

Little Raf gets fussy when I pull up, so I hurry to get him inside so I can change and feed him. He's not a demanding baby, always taking his bottle and chilling out for a few hours before he naps. I'm working on getting him on a schedule so I can get things done around his nap times.

Once inside, I sit down in a booth and box us in so I can change Little Raf without anyone spying on us. I finish changing him and I'm just pulling out his bottle when Hazel walks in. As she sits down across from us, she coos at Little Raf, who blinks at her. After he stares at Hazel for about a minute, he reaches his chubby hands out for his bottle. I smile down at him and begin to feed him.

Hazel grins as she watches. "He almost makes me want to have another one." I look up at her with what I can only guess is an incredulous expression. She giggles. "Yeah, okay, I don't want any more." I laugh along with her .

"How are the twins? I miss waking up to their laughter early in the mornings."

She scoffs, shaking her head. "Those hellions are fine, driving each other crazy. You know they argued this morning about who could brush their teeth first. Mari, their bathroom has two sinks."

I burst out laughing. My niece and nephew, Michael and Kayla, are adorable, but they definitely bicker a lot. Just for them to make up ten minutes later. "Yeah, well, maybe you should assign them sinks. It'll be easier for all involved."

"Yeah, just for them to say they want the sink the other one has? No, thank you."

We chat for a while about nothing, just enjoying each other's company. It's been a while since we were able to go out without Michael and Kayla, so we're taking full advantage. Little Raf is content to sit and look out the window, not really paying us any mind.

"Can Little Raf and I come hang out with you this weekend? I can see the kids and you can play with him?"

She nods, sitting up more in the booth. "Yeah, we'd love that. You know the twins always love when Uncle Mari is around. You let them get away with shit."

"I do not. I just use my uncle privileges. That's what?—"

"Omari," a slimy voice says from behind me and I tense. "Is that you?"

Biting back a curse, I turn towards Brock, who is sauntering over to me with a to go box in his hands. I scowl, but don't want to cause a scene while we're out in public. "What do you want, Brock?"

He stops at our table, placing a hand over his heart. "Ouch. I thought you'd be happy to see me. You owe me money and haven't reached out. Figured you didn't know how to find me."

Ice shoots through my veins as I see Hazel's questioning look from my periphery. She has no idea who he is or what he's talking about. I know she'll have questions as soon as Brock leaves.

I send him a dark look just as Little Raf starts to fuss. I arrange him better in my arms, eyeing Brock. "You gave me a month. I still have a week."

"Yeah. Yeah, you do. But I think the clock just wound down. Three days. I've waited long enough."

My heart rate spikes and Little Raf squirms in my arms. I shush him, putting him against my shoulder. "Brock, that's not enough time. Please?—"

"You know what you can do if you don't have the money."

I fold my lips in and shake my head. "Fine. Three days. Please, just go."

He doesn't take kindly to my dismissal. He glares at me, eyes hard. They shift to my half-eaten burger and fries and smirks. "You might want to lay off the heavy stuff," he says, patting his toned belly. "It'll mess up that tight figure of yours."

My stomach sinks and I drop my eyes. I fidget in my chair, not giving Brock any more of my attention. I can't help the feeling of inadequacy that sinks into me, no matter how hard I try. I could starve myself and people would still scrutinize my body. I didn't even finish my food and Brock is making it seem like I scarfed down an entire diner's worth of food.

I swallow thickly, wanting to respond, but no words come out. Tears prick my eyes but I blink them away quickly.

Brock bends down and looks at Little Raf, reaching out as if to tickle him. I slap his hand away, sliding more into the booth. "Don't fucking touch him."

His eyebrows dip in anger and he opens his mouth to spout some bullshit, but Hazel knocks on the table, getting both of our attention. I almost forgot she was there for a moment.

When Brock focuses on her, she smiles sweetly and says, "Hey, dude bro." Brock's face pinches, and I stifle a laugh. He does look like one of those men that has a podcast, sitting in the house degrading all women while unable to get one, with his messy blond hair, backward cap, and his fucking collar popped. What is it, 2006?

When she knows she has his attention, Hazel says, "I don't know who you are, but I'd advise you to get the fuck away from us before I reach into my purse." For good measure, she plops her heavy bag onto the table and pats it.

Brock stares at her for a moment, lip curling like he wants to call her bluff. When Hazel makes a move to open the bag, he holds up his hands with a chuckle. "Momma bear protective of her cub."

"Oh no," Hazel singsongs. "He can take care of himself. But it's been a while since I've been to the range and I think you make a pretty good target."

Brock backs away from the table, nodding at Hazel. He looks at me and says, "Three days," before he walks out quickly, peeking over his shoulder at Hazel to see if she's really reaching for a gun. I fucking love my sister.

Well, until she turns her inquiring gaze on me. I pretend I don't know what she's about to say, but I know I'm going to get questions. "Mari, what was that about?" she asks.

Knowing she'll keep asking until I give her answers, I tell her about selling drugs for Brock when I lost my job. Then I tell her the drugs were stolen from me but not by who. She'd try to convince me to quit working for Big Raf if she knew what he did. The gig is too good for me to quit after only a few days.

She groans, putting her head in her hands. "Why didn't you come stay with me and the kids? You know we love having you."

"I know, Hazel, but I wanted a place of my own. I wanted to get back on my feet on my own. I didn't …" I pause and lower my head, deciding to be honest with her. "I didn't want you to be disappointed in me."

"Oh Mari." She reaches for my hand and I grasp hers. "I could never be disappointed in you. You're my baby brother. I'll always be there to help you. Please, promise me you won't put yourself in that position again."

"I won't. I've learned my lesson. I plan to ask my boss tonight for an advance. It's not ideal, but it's better than having Brock on my back."

"How much do you owe?"

"Two thousand dollars." She winces. "It's fine. It won't be a full month's pay, so I just have to survive for a few weeks."

"I can give you a few hundred dollars to hold you over if you need it."

Little Raf starts to squirm and whine. "Nah," I say, gathering his items to slide into his baby bag. "I'll be fine. My boss is leaving me money for groceries and I already have all the toiletries I need. I'll be fine. Thanks though. I love you."

"Love you too."

I give her a hug and hurry to the car so I can get Little Raf down for a nap.

By the time I pull up to the house, Little Raf is asleep, which is perfect. I still have to unload the trunk of his haul and it'll be much easier if he's lying down so I can move more freely.

I'm shocked to see Big Raf in the kitchen when I come in. I didn't see his motorcycle out front; then again, the garage door was down and I parked in the driveway.

I've never seen a biker dress the way Prez does. Button up shirt, slacks, and dress shoes shouldn't be fitting on a big, dangerous biker, but on Big Raf, it is. Not to mention that he looks fucking hot. I'll have to add this to my spank bank catalog.

Not that I need more material when it comes to my boss.

"Oh. Hi," I murmur, shaking myself as he stares at me eye fucking him. I make my way into the kitchen. "Here, he's sleeping, so you can hold him without fear that he'll cry." I try to pass Little Raf over to Big Raf, but he puts a hand up, backing away, almost bumping into the refrigerator.

Sighing, I step back and point to the nursery. "I'm going to put Little Raf down and then I'll get all of his bags from the car."

Big Raf stares at me like he doesn't give a fuck what I do as long as I take the baby away, so I shake my head and head to the nursery. I lay the baby down and strip him of his shoes and socks. After I drag a blanket over him, I stare at him for a moment, smiling as he lets out a cute little baby sigh. I love watching him sleep, he looks so peaceful and carefree. I envy him that.

Realizing I'm being a creep and staring at a baby while he's asleep, I inch out of the room and go to the car to bring in the bags and boxes.

On my third trip, I come back inside to see Big Raf looking in the bags, his eyebrow raised. "The fuck is all this?"

I stop to catch my breath after bringing in three bags and a box for his diaper genie. The diaper genie is one hundred percent about convenience, not necessity.

I walk over to the bag he's looking through and smile. Bending over, I pull out some books and the little caterpillar toy I picked up for Little Raf. "He needs to stimulate his mind. And have some fun. He has no toys, Big Raf. He can't sit and look at the walls all day. He needs to be challenged and learn new skills. Like dexterity and whatnot. "

He looks at me like I'm crazy. "Did you just call me Big Raf?"

I shrug, even though my cheeks heat. "I could use some help putting all of this away."

"That's your job," he says and pushes past me, picking up his jacket and helmet. "I have shit to do."

"Wait," I say, my heart hammering as I turn in his direction. "I was wondering. Well, I was … I wanted to know …"

"Fucking spit it out," he lashes out, radiating impatience.

"Fine." I square my shoulders and meet his sharp gaze, heart still beating triple time. "Can I have an advance? I owe someone a lot of money because you took the pills I was selling."

He takes two steps towards me, getting in my face. His nostrils flare as he snarls at me. "You came into my fucking house selling drugs without my fucking permission. I would have killed anyone else that tried the shit you did."

"Yeah? Well, why didn't you?" I snap, irritated that he can't just answer my fucking question.

"No fucking clue, but it was a fucking mistake. If only to stop your fucking yapping. You really have a death wish talking to me like this."

"I'm not one of your biker men, Big Raf. I've told you to stop threatening me. That shit is going to get old real fast. Either you give me the fucking money or you don't. I told you it's a damn advance. If you don't, I'll find another way." I almost blurt out that I'll probably end up with my ass beat in some back alley if he doesn't give me the money, but I don't want his fucking pity.

He grunts, nodding to the money on the table. "Why didn't you just take that? Ain't like I would have known."

"Because I'm not a fucking thief. I'm asking for an advance so I can work for it. If I had taken the money, it would be stealing from my employer. Despite how we met, I have work ethic." I really wish I was never in such a bad spot to have to resort to selling drugs for a snake like Brock, but I can't turn back the hands of time.

His eyes reflect what I think is respect. "How much do you need?"

"Two grand."

"Count out what's on the table and let me know how much you need after that. Now if there's nothing else, I have to fucking go. And you have a baby to take care of."

"Yeah, a baby you haven't even asked about. You don't even?—"

"Don't give a fuck about updates about him," he says and turns his back on me. "Do the fucking job I'm giving you an advance for."

Then he hustles out the door, leaving me standing in the middle of the floor with an aching heart. How can he be so callous? Little Raf is an innocent baby. After losing his parents, the least he should have is a parental figure that loves him.

I start to unpack Little Raf's belongings, setting them up in his room and putting his bookshelf together. He wakes up just as I'm adding the last book to his shelf. I pick him up out of his crib, holding him close as he whines against my chest. "Hey big man. Guess what? I put your bookshelf together and got you plenty of toys. We're going to have some fun now. You ready for that?"

Little Raf lays on my shoulder, putting his chubby little fist in his mouth.

I take him into the living room and set him in his new pack and play as I clean up the trash. Once that's finished, I get started on baby proofing, plugging up outlets, add corner protectors to tables, and add some cabinet locks. It's probably overkill, but better safe than sorry. The twins needed every bit of baby proofing that existed and some that didn't. Not taking chances with Little Raf.

When all that is done, I sit on the couch and pull Little Raf into my arms, turning on some sing along video from a streaming service.

He waves his fists in the air, gurgling as he looks at all the colors on the screen.

While he entertains himself with whatever the people on the video are singing, I pull out my phone and open a new text thread. I added Shane's number when he gave me his card, so I pull up the contact and send him a quick text.

Me: Hi, Shane? It's Omari. I hope I'm not interrupting.

I get a text back five minutes later.

Shane: Hi Omari. Not interrupting at all. I'm actually leaving work right now. How is everything going?

Me: Okay. Little Raf is great. Such a sweet baby.

Shane: I need to come see him. I miss his little face.

I smile, then pull up the camera app and snap a picture of the baby while he's smiling at the television.

Shane: He's so adorable. How about you two come visit me and Zeke one day? We have a dog, a Pitbull rescue. I hope that's okay?

Me: We'd love to. And I like dogs.

I want to keep the conversation light, since this is the first time I'm conversing with him, but I need answers. Something is up with Big Raf and I need to know what it is.

Me: Why doesn't Big Raf want anything to do with Little Raf? He barely looks at him and he just told me he didn't want updates about him. What's his deal? It's not good for Little Raf.

Shane is a long time in answering. So long, I didn't think he would. But ten minutes later, he shoots me a reply.

Shane: I'm not sure. I know it has a lot to do with him not talking to his sister for over twenty years, then getting her son when she died. All I know is he never wanted kids because of how he grew up and he's blindsided. But I did think he would come around by now. Be patient with him. He's not an easy man to get close to, but it's worth it when you do .

Sitting back on the couch, I let that information sink in. He hadn't talked to his sister in more than twenty years? All Shane told me is Little Raf's mother and father died. Not wanting kids makes sense for why he's not warming up to Little Raf. He's older, probably in his forties. It's hard getting saddled with a child you didn't have plans for.

I'm not sure if that changes how I see him. I still think he's an ass for ignoring a baby, but I can see why he's a little standoffish.

Why hadn't he talked to his sister for over two decades? Why did he agree to take Little Raf if he didn't want kids? And ever more pressing, will he ever come around to be a proper parent to Little Raf?