Fighting for her Mate

22

She closed the door, removed the chain, and before she had the knob in her hand, the door flew open, pushing her back along with a massive body barreling toward her. She screamed, but the man had his hands on her and a cloth over her mouth and nose in seconds. Her brain told her not to breathe in. Whatever was on the cloth would make her pass out.

But as she struggled, her lungs said something else. She heard a snap, like a bone popping, and an agonizing jab shot through her body. She sucked in a deep gasp as another pop came with more pain. If she didn’t pass out from the cloth, the pain running through her body would manage it.

The lights around her started to fade. Her vision tunneled to black and she felt herself fall.

Raymond laid her on the sofa. He began to worry if the chemical on the cloth would take effect before the woman shifted fully. After hearing two pops, he wasn’t so sure, but it turned out all right. Now for the babies.

He laid the third rugrat on the floor of the apartment across town, then pulled his phone from his pocket. “Hey, boss man. Everything went smooth as ice.”

“You have the children with you now?”

“Yep, all three are lying here.”

“Can you handle them for a while? Tonya’s mom is sick and she had to go out of town.”

Raymond’s eyes rounded as big as dinner plates. “Sure, boss man. I-I got it.”

“Good. You know we can’t have nothing happening to those babies. They’re insurance. You know what I mean?”

He didn’t. “Yeah, boss. I know, I know.”

“See that you do. Now, Tonya dropped off a list of things. Like, what to do when the babies cry. What to feed them. She bought diapers, too.”

Diapers! Maybe he couldn’t handle this. He heard a girlfriend once talk about how disgusting baby s**t was. He thought he was going to throw up.

“Raymond, you there?”

“Y-yeah, boss. Me and the babies were just playing. Coochy, coochy, coo and all that.” Or was it goochy, goochy, goo. No, his girlfriend wore Gucci, but her coochie was drool worthy.

“Yeah, okay, Ray. And if I call, be ready to off them.”

“You got it, Rocco.” Ray slipped his phone back into his pocket and stared at the infants. He wasn’t sure what to do now. “You babies seem happy. Which is good. I don’t want to hurt any of you. I guess you all should just play or something.”

Three sets of eyes stared up at him. A shiver ran down his back. There was something different about these babes. They looked at him like he was the enemy. He would swear the biggest one had a scary gleam in his eye, like he was going to get even.

Then suddenly, all at once, they started crying.

“No, no, no, babies. Don’t cry. Everything is good.” He hurried to the list Tonya left. When babies cry, 1) give them a bottle. He went to the fridge and plucked out three of many stacked on the shelves. “Hey, babes, it’s Miller time.”

He handed the bottle to the first one on the floor. The boy wouldn’t take it. “Come on, kid. Give me a break.” Were they too young to hold their own bottles? s**t.

Fifteen minutes later, the three babies sat on the couch--pillows, blankets, and clothes tucked in and around their small forms keeping them upright. He held two bottles for the boys. The female child started screaming. He put down one bottle and held hers. Immediately, that neglected boy started screaming.

He set down the second boy’s bottle against his stomach and picked up the first one. The second boy wiggled around and the bottled rolled off the sofa to the floor. Ray let go of the girl’s bottle to pick up the one on the floor. She screamed immediately. He wiped the n****e on his shirt and shoved it in her mouth.

The first boy squealed; Ray saw the bottle he held had pulled out, and stuck it back in. The second boy leaned on a loose pillow, rolling sideways onto his sister. Ray put both bottles down, creating instant screaming. He scooped up the roaming child and put him back into the middle and re-stuffed the pillow and blanket between him and his sister. The other two were still screaming.

Putting bottles into open mouths, quietness reached his ears, until the middle boy screeched. Ray looked around for his bottle. It wasn’t anywhere. He picked up the kid to see if it had rolled between the sofa cushions. He slid his hand behind the material-covered square onto something squishy. His finger poked it, then he wedged the item between two fingers.

He lifted out a used condom, contents still intact. He yelled and threw it as quickly as possible, not caring where it landed. The two babies still on the sofa laughed and gurgled. “You think that’s funny, do you?” He set the kid back on the cushion and re-tucked the padding. All three started crying.

Ray fell to his knees in front of the sofa and pulled at his hair. He took a deep breath. He could do this. After juggling three bottles (he realized he’d stuck the bottle that fell on the floor into the girl’s mouth, when it should have been the second baby’s, so he took her old one and gave it to her brother. They were twins, they had the same germs, right?) for ten minutes, the children were content.

Now what? He went back to the Tonya’s list. Be sure to burp after feeding. Okay, that was easy. He’d seen women do this all the time. He picked up the girl and she burped right away. Easy peasy. He had this.

Ray picked up the first brother. He patted and patted and patted. Then instead of the burping noise from the mouth, he felt it come out the diaper end. And come out. And come out. s**t. Literally. He pulled the kid away, holding it under the arms, and set it onto the sofa carefully. That would have to wait. Hopefully the last burp will be quick.