Saint's Sacrament - Sins of the Father

by Laveen, Tiana

  “Hello, Payton. You had exactly one minute and thirty-two seconds left. I’m glad you didn’t make me come see you up close and personal. That would’ve been a pity.”

  Well, so much for that theory…

  ~***~

  “I want to see your face when I’m speaking to you.” Saint sat in his office alone while his finger traced leisurely over the neck of the African maiden carved in his desk.

  “But…but you said if I called you in time that you wouldn’t—”

  “No.” He laughed as he turned his computer on. “I want to Skype with you.”

  “Uh, I can’t.”

  He knew she was lying, but it didn’t matter. Either she played by his rules, or not at all and if the game was over, she’d find out quite quickly that unlike the sly leopard she believed herself to be, she didn’t have nine lives. This was her last damned chance.

  “Payton, if you don’t get your ass on that computer, I’m going to—”

  “Alright! Hold on.”

  Soon, he saw her face pop up, her body wrapped in a thick robe and her hair in a sloppy, white towel.

  “Okay, now, let’s get down to business.” He saw himself in a small square on his computer, and playfully stuck his tongue out, amused even within the mess he was drowning in.

  “Are you…sticking your tongue out at me?” Payton questioned, confused. “What does that mean?”

  “No, that wasn’t for you. Anyway…” He cleared his throat. “I’ve no time for bullshit. You tell me what happened, from the damn beginning. Don’t miss one detail.”

  “What happened with what?” He watched as she shifted her weight in her seat, looking indignant and confident in the bullshit she tried to serve him on a silver platter. The woman was good, damned good, and if he didn’t know she was the Queen of Bluff, he may have gone for it. After all, she’d coached hundreds of people on how to lie on a witness stand and make themselves look like the slaughtered lamb, when in fact they were the wolves with blood dripping off their fangs.

  “Payton, this isn’t the court room. That shit doesn’t work on me. Now…” He grinned. “You tell me RIGHT NOW, GODDAMN IT, what you and Sinclair cooked up! I want the blow by mothafuckin’ blow!” His voice vibrated, echoing through the computer, and rang out like a singer singing too closely to the microphone. Payton put her hands over her ears and shook her head dramatically.

  He sat back and folded his hands, waiting…

  “You don’t have to yell.” She sat there, looking like a block of ice—unfeeling and cold. She simply looked like her normal self.

  “You’ve got one last chance, Payton,” Saint said calmly. “I won’t say anything else to you after this, you’ll just see me and feel me, and then, you’ll never see or feel anything else again thereafter.” He let the threat simmer in its own blood drawn bath.

  “Fine.” She pursed her lips. “Look, I don’t know Sinclair well, okay? He contacted me out of the blue, Saint.”

  “Mmm hmmm.” He swiveled ever so slowly. “That part is true. Keep telling the truth Payton because once you start lying, things will go downhill for you and I don’t have much time to patty cake and fuck around with you. Now, tell me about how it happened, how it all came to be.”

  “Are you in trouble, Saint?” Her mouth twitched and her eyes slatted. This woman was an enigma. It appeared as if, on one hand, she didn’t want him to be and had a tiny smidgen of concern for his wellbeing, but on the other hand, she showed sheer delight that he was suffering once again.

  He snickered and stared at her in disbelief. “Are you fucking serious, Ms. Bishop? You know what the fuck you did, and you knew in advance the repercussions, and I know you already are fully aware of what is happening to me!”

  She raised an eyebrow and slowly crossed her legs, giving him a quick beaver shot, then grinned.

  “For all I know, this is your brainchild, and Sinclair was there for the ride,” Saint goaded, putting fire under her ass and to wipe that silly smirk off her crooked face.

  “No, no!” She waved her hand frantically. “It was not my brain child, Saint. I promise you that I wished to not have any further contact with you and I told Sinclair he shouldn’t do this…but…but he blackmailed me,” she said woefully.

  “Nobody blackmails Payton and gets away with it.” He leaned in closer, to make sure she didn’t miss his expression. “You see, I know you, Payton. And, well, after you violated me, I knew you that much better.”

  She sighed and turned away.

  “Look at me! Turn your ass back around!”

  She snapped her neck in his direction, a snarl on her face. She hated him as much as she did the day she slid her pussy down his stiff pole.

  “You are a vengeful, manipulative con artist. A waste of a good brain!” he growled. “You never allow someone to make you do anything unless there is something in it for you. Now, you at times show periods of lucidity, where you are a bit remorseful about your devilment, but those periods are short and fleeting. Sinclair is a tricky one. He looks harmless, but I found out he is more than I bargained for. A desperate man will go through desperate measures to exact revenge, and he is doing just that. He hit the jackpot when he found out about you and he knew it. I have a hard time believing he blackmailed you, I honestly do. There was a catch, you got something in return.”

  “The person you are describing, Saint, I am not her anymore.” She lifted her chin and looked at him sternly as tears welled in her eyes.

  Damn, she is amazing actress.

  “He found out…about the incident.”

  Saint burst out laughing. “Incident? So that’s what we’re calling it now? An incident?” He steepled his hands and smiled—a smile without mirth. “No, Payton, it wasn’t an incident.” He put his fingers in quotes. “You slipped something into my drink, led me to your car and—”

  “Okay, just—” She held her hand up to stop him from continuing.

  “And then you undressed me and gave me head without my permission, and sucked my dick, quite liberally I might add, until it was fit to straddle.”

  “Just stop it, okay!” she screamed, unable to look at him.

  “And then after that, you climbed on top of me, and fucked me!” he screamed at the top of his lungs. “I begged you, the best I could, I begged you to stop!” His voice shook with anger, rage, embarrassment and pent up frustration. This was his first time being able to confront his rapist about the assault, and it was all coming out, bubbling forth in a way he didn’t expect.

  “Saint, please—”

  “…And you laughed and laughed, Payton.” His eyes welled with angry tears. “The more upset I became, the more turned on you were, you sick fuck!” He shook his head and turned away to stare at a picture of the sun setting on his wall. “It wasn’t an incident. You raped me, Payton. And you’re still not sorry for the shit. You took all of your aggressions toward men, me included, out on me, my body and my marriage. For every mothafucka that did you wrong, you got back at them through me. You are a sexual predator and you are so lucky, blessed actually…” He turned back toward her, feeling the heat in his eyes. “Blessed that I didn’t hunt you down and gut you like the goddamn piranha that you are.”

  They sat in silence for quite some time.

  “Now, please continue,” he finally said, calm and demure.

  Payton sighed and swallowed. “He called me one day, while I was at work. He somehow had gotten the report that Xenia had filed in California.” She paused, wiped a tear from her eye and continued. “He threatened my job. I’m lucky to be practicing law at all.” She briefly looked away, her lips twisted in a frown. “…And all of that would be taken away, Saint, if I didn’t do what he said.”

  “You rotten piece of shit.” He pushed the words out between clenched teeth. “If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t be allowed to practice law in the first damn place! I am the one who didn’t want it to go that far, because I didn’t want my family dragged through the mud and for every
one to know. Xenia did you a favor by respecting my wishes or there would have been a media frenzy for both of us. Fuck your damned career! Finish telling me about Sinclair,” he snarled.

  “He wanted to know about your finances but I didn’t have any information, nothing current anyway. Then, he brought up your taxes and wanted me to uh…” She looked down fleetingly into her lap. “He wanted me to get in contact with the people I knew to get the records pulled and questioned. During that process, the…police got involved.”

  “So, you in turn dropped a dime on me, a fake dime, but one nevertheless.” Saint shook his head in disbelief. “If you really didn’t want to do it, Payton, why didn’t you just call me and tell me what the motherfucker was cooking up?”

  “You can’t be serious? After what happened the last time I saw you?! I was frightened, and you may not have even believed me. You would have accused me of another plot or scheme.”

  “He used you, Payton, but you’re lying if you are trying to sit there and tell me you didn’t enjoy sticking it to me. That has been your dream, to ruin my damn life. He used another woman, too, and she will get hers as well but even after all of this, I expected better from you. Sinclair needed you more than you ever needed him. You were too eager to fuck me over and there is no doubt in my mind, you were compensated. Now,” he said, pausing briefly. “Who did you talk to, and what did you tell them?”

  “I…spoke with some people there and said I received a notice regarding your filings dating back to the original years and time frames in question. I pulled up the dates when I hand-handled your accounts, and they were able to corroborate my information. I pretended to still be your financial advisor. Then…” She looked away, her face full of shame, another actress move no doubt. “Then I told them that some of the information had been inaccurate, and I needed to reexamine the records. I also gave them an incorrect contact number, so you could not be notified directly—that was Sinclair’s idea, actually. He wanted them to show up at your house or job, so that you’d be humiliated.” She coughed; it seemed forced, as if she really didn’t want to utter another word. “I also told them I had helped you on the bank deposits as well.”

  “So basically, you put a little bug in their ear which you were certain would launch an investigation and audit? The same audit and investigation that has caused me sleepless nights and has my company in jeopardy. On top of that, you called the police and filed a claim for larceny, thought better of it, and changed it to embezzlement so the charges would have a better chance of sticking after you reviewed the accounting mistakes that could easily be blamed on such a thing! You knew damn well those were innocent errors! You’ve sunk to an all-time low, Payton.”

  “Saint, I—”

  “So what was the final nail in my coffin, Payton?”

  “Some of the evidence provided, I made sure it disappeared and other evidence…well, it was drafted up to make things worse for you. Look, it is really complicated. It took me weeks to get it all together but—”

  “I bet it did, Payton.” He seethed. “You tried to get your wish, after all,” He pounded his fist on the desk. “Tried to destroy me.”

  “Saint, you’re wrong. I only did this so I wouldn’t lose my job.” Her eyes glossed over.

  “Bullshit! It’s deeper than that. You avoided it the first time I brought it up, but you answer me right now. Sinclair paid you too, didn’t he?”

  Payton drew quiet, wrapping her robe tighter around her shoulders, refusing to look him in the eye.

  “Didn’t he?!”

  “Yes!”

  “Well, Payton,” he said, smiling weakly. “What a fucked up mess we have here. You, my dear, are going to get out your mops, brooms, sponges and disinfectant. You made this mess, so get ready to get on your hands and knees and clean it up with a fucking toothbrush until it sparkles.”

  Her eyes widened and her lips parted, but nothing came out.

  “Yeah, you’re going to make some phone calls to the right people, and tell them every damned thing you just told me.”

  Her eyes went wide and crazy. “I…can’t do that. That’s a federal offense, I’ll go to prison.”

  “You think I give a shit about you going to prison?!” Saint sneered as he leisurely leaned back in his seat, scooped a cigar out of his desk drawer and lit it. He smiled coolly at the woman and blew out a burst of powdery smoke. “You in deep now, baby—deeper than a dick tapping some pussy that hasn’t seen snatch after a fifteen year stint!” He cackled as he tapped his ashes in the tray.

  “Now,” he said, cocking his head to the side, “you’ve already done your part, actually. I just like fucking with you.”

  Confusion spread across her dark brown face, a face he’d once kissed a thousand times while making her moan and curse him and call his name as if he were Jesus.

  “You see, I’ve taped this little interaction.” He flicked ashes into the tray. “Why do you always fall for that, huh?” He watched her face turn white. The paleness snuck in then went full gusto; her pores filled up with gray and swallowed the glorious melanin she’d once possessed. “Yeah, you can tape Skype shit now. That’s how you got busted in the first place. You didn’t know that, did you? Someone as smart as you, it’s amazing.” He took another puff of his cigar. “Yeah, my boss was johnny on the case, God rest his soul. You were taped talkin’ shit to a friend of yours about me. My wife heard the whole fuckin’ thing and realized what happened. Technology saved my marriage from a fucked up individual such as you, and now, it will save my company and my finances. Isn’t that beautiful?” He caught himself in the tiny square on the computer again, admiring his recent teeth cleaning.

  “I don’t have time to fuck around with you, Payton. Because you were forthcoming, I won’t kill you,” he said with a bright smile. “And trust and believe, you make a man want to snuff you right out on the goddamn spot. Now, we’ve got some options here, and you will do as I say or I will let everyone see this. The choice is yours.”

  She reached to disconnect the feed.

  “Uh… uh…uh!” he cautioned, waving his finger in the air. “This conversation isn’t over, Payton, until I say it is over. You touch that computer, and I will be at your doorstep. If you run, I will chase you until you die of exhaustion.”

  She lifted her chin high, as if to say, ‘fuck you.’ Pretending to grab her confidence back and show it to him, live and in living color.

  “Now, you still have one more damned role to play. Take notes, be my secretary for the night. You’ll want to listen up and do this right, to the damned letter, because one mishap, one tiny mistake and,”—he shrugged, dramatically frowning—“that’s your ass, sweetheart.” He moved yet closer to the computer screen, staring at her as if she were a strange creature he was trying to decipher. He hated her with every ounce of testosterone roving through his body, and as he looked at her, his temperature soared, causing his irises to bleed red. She screamed and jumped back, almost falling off her bed. He knew he’d delete this little part of the video out; Lawrence would take care of it for him. It would be as if the little crimson scene never occurred.

  Saint looked at her pitifully and laughed.

  “Get yourself together,” he snapped. “Get your ass back over here.” He curled his finger in a ‘come hither’ motion. “We’ve got work to do…”

  ~***~

  They were a beautiful sight. All of the Rainbeaus gathered in their slate, black, navy and chocolate brown suits. Rows of chairs had been assembled in Saint’s dining room, and the men sat under the chandelier, shining like the stars they were. Jagger and Lawrence sat at the front, while George sat regally beside him. Saint stood from his chair and ran his hand over his face.

  “My wife is upstairs with my daughter. My sons are in the bed sleeping and even though this is a big ass house, I want us to kind of keep it down. My children have sensitive hearing,” he warned as he leaned against a long, black buffet covered in assorted waters, a basket of tea bags and other refr
eshments. “Now, I’ve gotten some information regarding the Internal Revenue Investigation. We were set up.”

  “I knew it!” someone yelled out.

  “That’s right, but, if we’d had all of our ducks in a row, it wouldn’t have gotten as out of control as it did. I’m hiring more people to work in accounting and human resources. You all are understaffed. We have been busier in this year alone than in the entire history of the company, and some things have gotten out of whack. Unfortunately, some people were depending on that to help build up an arsenal of lies. In two days, they will be back. I will either be arrested, or acquitted.” He shot a glance at Lawrence and Jagger.

  “At the end of the day, I can’t blame anyone but myself.” He ran his hand down the length of his black and white tie. “This is my company, you all are my friends and work for me. But, she is mine, and therefore, now that a problem has been highlighted, it will be rectified. I didn’t embezzle any money from this company. I want to make that perfectly clear. I didn’t steal anything; matter of fact, I gave some of my own money for many events we had. I even took a pay cut last year so we could have that big celebration. I’m saying that for any of you who may believe I did any of the things I’m accused of…because some of you did believe it.”

  George nodded his head in agreement.

  “I want you to go back to work and no matter what happens, I want you to know the company will survive this, grow and continue on. Our legacy is in our work and if we have to meet at a damn fast food restaurant on a twenty dollar a day budget, that’s what we’ll do!”

  There was instant applause. No one cared about the noise level as they clapped and sighed with relief. Saint smiled, understanding the stress everyone was under was finally being released like a hot air balloon losing steam. They had confidence in him; after all, he was smiling.

  His mind drifted back to Payton and his thoughts darkened. Oh, how he wanted to taste her blood, but he wanted to eat Sinclair up alive even more so…