Saint And Sinners: The King Angel Child of New York

by Tiana Laveen

  “Hello back at cha. Remember when you told me you wanted to do something to help? Well, I’ve got just the thing…”

  *

  Chapter Eighteen

  Cheryl Lynn’s “Got To Be Real” greeted Saint and Xenia when they walked through the glass double doors of the Grand 2020 Banquet and Party Hall in Brooklyn. The music blasted, so loud and base-filled, it seemed the subwoofers were attached to even larger subwoofers and were determined to tear each and every eardrum within range to bloody shreds. Saint overdosed on the glorious experience as he melted into the clutches of an auditory orgasm.

  “Now that’s what I call music!” he hollered over the tunes, surprised at how much he was enjoying himself—and he’d only been there a couple of minutes.

  Xenia began to pop her fingers and sway her hips to the beat, her rounded curves covered in black sparkly bell-bottoms.

  The whole damn galaxy has landed on my baby’s ass! Fuckin’ cakes Battlestar Galactica! Look like the introduction to the Twilight Zone ’nd shit…stars, more stars and more…four leaf clovers too. I’m a lucky son of a bitch. I wanna fill her chocolate star, though. I’ll settle that score, later…blast through that tight, warm hole like an apostate comet.

  A naughty grin split his face as he fell even further into the sordid thoughts of getting in on a little anal action. She spun towards him and winked, then turned back to the crowd, still wildly swaying those spectacular hips. Her silver halter-top hugged the twins he adored—Breast One and Breast Two. He’d named them Thelma and Louise, and though she showed too much cleavage for his liking, being as possessive of her as he was, he could appreciate the show. He watched the mothafuckas jiggle while she bounced about, turning circles, bowing and really getting into the groove of the whole vibe. Her sparkly afro wig moved about, too, bringing a bit of humor to his sexual tension.

  “Heeeey man!” Raphael darted up to them.

  After they slapped hands, his friend hugged him, his bright red flyaway collar almost cutting Saint along the face. He could tell his best friend was trying to stifle a laugh as he looked him over. But, stifling just wasn’t in the cards, because soon, he stepped back and took a long eye-ball stroll from Saint’s head down to his black platforms, only briefly pausing on the seven gold chains wrapped around his neck.

  “John…Mothafuckin’ Travolta in Saturday Night Fever! Haaaaa! You look just like that son of a bitch, man! I gotta get some pics of this shit!” Raphael’s eyes turned to slits as he laughed, harder and harder, no doubt plotting the perfect blackmail ploys in his shiny baldhead, which was well hidden under his Stevie Wonder braids wig. The music went down quite a bit, and a slow song broke through, allowing Saint’s ears and chest to get a much-needed break.

  “Yeah…Yeah…get cha laugh on.” Saint smirked and rolled his eyes. “This was all Xenia’s doing. I didn’t pick this shit out.” He pointed to the woman, who was still immersed in the music, in her own world.

  “But you love that movie!” she protested once she caught wind he was talking ill of her. She threw him a mock offended look, as if it irked her that he took offense to how the damn bell-bottom pants rode his crotch like a tic on a dog’s nuts. “Do you know how hard it was to get a snow white polyester suit like the one in the movie, with a size 32 waist for a man that is 6’3?! Nobody is built like you! And though you have a tiny ass, it sits kinda high. Your butt is…”

  “Okay, okay.” Saint put his hand up, hoping to stop this discussion at once. “You don’t need to discuss my ass in front of my boy here, Xenia… That’s too much information, damn.”

  Raphael lost it then. Saint felt his face heat with a blush he had no doubt would rival rosacea.

  “Well, it’s true! You’ve got really broad shoulders, a teeny waist, long legs…I had to have it specially tailored.”

  “I understand that baby, but this fuckin’ costume is…” He looked at her long and hard, then decided to pull the woman close and kiss the top of her head. “Nothing, baby. You did good. Thank you.”

  She grinned back at him and turned away, catching Latrice waving at her from across the way under one of the many rainbow strobe lights.

  Both men watched Xenia saunter away, snapping her fingers dramatically to the beat while her ass moved as if it were on supernova hydraulics.

  “She look good, man,” Raphael said thoughtfully, peering intensely at the seesawing globes.

  “I otta punch you in the back of the damn head, man.” Saint smirked.

  His friend laughed, threw up his hands and brandished a ‘surprised face’, as if he didn’t know what the hell Saint could possibly be referring to.

  “What?! I’m just admiring her costume, man.”

  “Admire your own woman’s costume. I saw how you looked at Xenia’s ass… You don’t have any respect.” Saint laughed lightly as he scanned the room.

  “Look, I’m married not blind, man! Besides, if it weren’t for me, you would’ve never landed her!” Raphael grinned.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Saint put his hands on his waist. “You didn’t have shit to do with it…besides running my bill up at the hotel.”

  “Like hell I didn’t! If it weren’t for me agreeing to go out of town with you, this miracle would’ve never happened. I still can’t believe she agreed to marry your ass. You must’ve made her do it under duress.”

  “Fuck you, and you’ve lost your damn mind.” Saint smiled. “Leave it to you to try ’nd take credit.” Saint cracked up as he watched Raphael clip his Stevie Wonder sunglasses a bit more securely to his shirt.

  “That’s what I do, man,” Raphael joked. “Anyway, thanks for coming. I know you are busy trying to get the company set up right ’nd everything.”

  Saint nodded. “Yeah, things are progressing nicely though.”

  “What’s up with Hassani?” Raphael crossed his arms, looking more serious.

  “Man.” Saint glanced down at the floor, which was aglow with assorted light colors reflected from the ceiling. “He’s not good. He’s been real quiet. I feel helpless as hell. He doesn’t really want to talk. All he does is go to school, come home and do his homework. He doesn’t want to go to that basketball camp you told me about, either. He doesn’t want to go to karate with Dakarai; he doesn’t even want to play with Isis. She started crying the other day because he closed his door in her face when she came to his room. He never does stuff like that… He’s real protective of her, you know?”

  Raphael nodded. “Yeah man, I’m sorry. My son went through a stage like that, too. You just kinda have to let it pass.”

  “I’m worried about that boy though, man—Angel. The kid I told you about. He reminds me of Bomb so damn much, when we were kids, you know?”

  “Yeah…that’s wild. It’s kinda like if you and Bomb had had a love child, that little bastard would’ve been it.”

  “Yeah, that’s one way to look at it.” Saint searched the area for Xenia, but the thickening crowd had swallowed the gorgeous woman. After a few moments, he finally spotted a bit of her surrounded by grinning faces. “He needs help, man,” Saint murmured close to Raphael’s ear.

  “Who? Hassani?”

  “No, well, yeah, but that’s not who I’m talking about. Angel does, the boy I told you about. He has a chip on his shoulder. He’s a very angry person, but when I touched him, I could feel he was supposed to be in Hassani’s life. I hate to admit this… I hate it, I guess, it’s a pride thing, I don’t know.” He swallowed and looked back down at the ground. “…But, he can do something for Hassani that I can’t. My son trusts him, man. Angel is ignoring him in school now because of me. He is terrified of me.”

  “Can you blame him?! You’re a powerful Angel Child.” Raphael crossed his arms. “Shiiiiit! If I didn’t know you well, I’d be scared of your ass, too!”

  Saint grinned and ran his hand over the vest of his three-piece disco suit.

  “I’m serious, man.” He looked back up, peering as if the sun were in his eyes. “H
e got something special. It’s like he was born to be Hassani’s guardian…kinda the same way Bomb was for me. Yeah, Bomb was a bad influence sometimes because he didn’t always do the shit he should have been, but I know in my heart if it weren’t for Bomb in my life at that time, I’d be dead or in prison. Hassani needs someone closer to his age to help him…similar to what I had. My dad tried to scare Bomb away too…but it was different. Bomb isn’t an Angel Child, but he was assigned to me nevertheless.”

  Raphael nodded as he looked into the distance. “Makes sense, man. Look, try to take a load off tonight. Try not to think about it. I threw this party so everyone could have some fun, unwind.”

  “Oh, I plan to. Great job, man. It looks like a rocket ship came and shit the 1970s all over this mothafucka. I know you paid a mint to rent this place though.”

  “Don’t matter, business has been gooood!” Raphael gave Saint a high-five. “Anyway, it will work itself out. In the meantime, let’s get something to drink.” He pointed to the fully stocked bar across the way.

  “You don’t have to ask me twice.” Saint chuckled as they disappeared into the crowd. Earth, Wind and Fire burst out with, “September.” Raphael paused and did a spin. The colorful beads in his wig clanked together, triggering a bout of laughter in Saint. “You are a disgrace to the Wonder legacy. You know that, right?” The man began to move his head back and forth just like Stevie Wonder. Saint shook his head. “You a nut, man.”

  “…You got tha widow’s peak and everything. You really do look like Travolta from the movie, man!” Raphael cried, twisting the knife in the wound. Saint rolled his eyes and stepped closer to the bar.

  “Xenia did my hair. She used like a whole fucking can of hair gel and hairspray. This shit is hard as a rock!” He reached up and gingerly patted the top of his head. “I’d be surprised it is didn’t break into tiny pieces like glass later on.”

  Raphael burst out laughing. “She did good! It’s like a bouffant of sorts…wow. You already had the sideburns. Only difference is, your eyes ain’t blue…but I’m sure if someone pisses you off tonight, that could be arranged.” He smirked.

  “Blue means I’m chill… I will have to show you the color wheel later on.”

  Raphael shook his head and laughed.

  “Hey man,” Saint said to the bartender. “Let me get a glass of red wine, doesn’t matter what type…nothing too cheap though. This is for my fly ass Foxy Brown standing over there taking pictures with people… and a draft beer for me.” He cleared his throat. The bartender grabbed a bottle of merlot and poured.

  “Where are Jagger and Lawrence and their wives? I told you to invite them,” Raphael said.

  “Xenia told them about the party. Jagger and Traci will be here soon. Lawrence and Donna can’t find a babysitter, so I’m not sure if he will find one in time or not. She offered our nanny, but Donna didn’t want to impose.”

  Raphael nodded in understanding.

  “Oh, and I did speak to Lawrence about Hassani’s eyes changing colors.”

  “You did? What he say?”

  “Basically, some of us are early developers. It’s like getting puberty early, is all. Nothing can be done about it; he just needs to be aware of it and watch it.”

  “That’s tough, man.” Raphael shook his head, a look of sympathy on his face.

  “Yeah…anyway, congrats by the way on the new store.” Saint raised his beer in a toast, then took a sip.

  “Thanks, man. Business is picking up again. The recession almost kicked my ass but things are starting to look up. I got that pink diamond and green emerald necklace for Xenia now, too.”

  “Good. I need a purple one, too. Amethyst.”

  “What?! Why do you always do this to me, huh? I ask you,” Raphael’s brows bunched as he jammed his hand out before him, as if doing a reenactment for some show. “I say, ‘Saint, is that all you need?’, and you say, ‘Yeah man, I’m straight.’ And then this happens! Why didn’t you tell me that at the time you ordered the first one?! I could have ordered the jewels all at the same time. It costs me more money when you do this. I should charge your ass extra!”

  “Fine, I’ll just take my business elsewhere!” Saint raised his nose high in the air, as if he were dignified. He was met with a playful punch about the shoulder. Cracking a grin, he looked out into the crowd once more, admiring his wife from a distance.

  Everybody loves Xenia. She’s mine though…she’s fucking mine. My cum is still marinating in her pussy… Mmmm….

  He slicked his tongue over his bottom lip as he remembered flashes of their lovemaking earlier that evening. He wasn’t sure why his thoughts went in that direction, but his heart started to beat a bit faster, taking control. Then, before he knew it, it became painfully clear. Some man was close to her, all up on her, dancing in the woman’s personal space…

  The man’s velvety dark skin glistened as he exposed a mouthful of snow-white teeth. He beamed down at Xenia’s chest, and she seemed none the wiser when the guy slicked his long, slimy tongue across his upper lip in lustful appreciation of the Goddess before him. Thelma and Louise jiggled and bounced, glitter shimmering all along their deep caramel flesh. The whole ordeal seemed to unfold in slow motion and the fucker was getting a hearty eyeful. A few moments later, Raphael was holding his beer and wearing a look of utter surprise on his face.

  “Oh man…look, Saint, just chill.” He knew the deal. Raphael didn’t want him to cause a scene. “I don’t know who that is, could be anybody, but let me take care of it. It’s my party; I can ask him to leave if it goes too far. He must be a friend of a friend. Just cool out. Besides, he probably doesn’t even know she’s married.”

  “How the fuck could he not know?” Saint glared at his buddy in disbelief. “Look at that big ass rock I put on her finger!” He pointed across the way, not expecting Raphael to really take notice, but he had a damn point to make. “Anyone who knows who she is knows she is married, Raphael. She’s been on radio and syndicated television, and is about to start a new radio program. She’s a celebrity, for God’s sake. Why do you think half the people in this damn room are trying to talk to her and take photos with her?! He knows who the fuck she is, including the fact that she is taken. People stay in our business more than they stay in their own shit!”

  “Look!” Raphael grabbed his arm, putting some ‘umph’ in his grip. The man tried to reel him in and put a stopper in this volcano within him that was vibrating, shaking and rolling harder and faster than the music blaring throughout the place. “He’s just admiring, okay? He didn’t touch her. Besides, give Xenia some credit.”

  “Credit for what? She’s distracted… She doesn’t even see he is there.” He pointed over at her, refusing to even blink. “She is taking photos with people and he is all in her damn grill. I can tell she’s not even paying attention to that man.” Then…he saw it. The bold fucker in the powder blue suit jacket wrapped his arm tightly around Xenia’s waist, causing her to shift a bit in confusion and glare up at the guy. From her expression, it was clear she had been taken aback by his gumption.

  “Oh, fuck no! Fuck that shit!” Huffing, Saint marched over like the leader of a marching band, his arms swinging like George Jefferson’s and a scowl on his face as his damn nose twitched.

  “Saaaaiiint! Noooo!” Raphael screamed out, his plea drowned by the music.

  Saint didn’t care—he may as well have been shot out a damn circus canyon. He moved so fast, the alabaster white bell bottoms flapped around his legs like breeze blown curtains.

  He pressed up against the guy, his chest firmly into his with no fucks given and no frills to give a shit about, then glared the bastard in the eye. “What you doin’, man?” Saint sneered, getting impossibly closer, so close, their noses practically touched. All the fucker did was smile even wider, as if some great anecdote had been articulated.

  “I’m trying to take a picture with this fine, little honey right here!” He gleamed, proud of himself and his words.
>
  “Well that fine little honey is my wife!” Saint stabbed his own chest with his pointer finger. “Get your damn hands off her.”

  “Saint,” Xenia said calmly, though her face twisted with anxiety. “It’s okay, baby,” she cooed, throwing on one of her award-winning television smiles. He wasn’t fooled—they were not in front of a studio audience, and this was no show. “He was just moving in close to get into the shot,” she further explained, trying to calm him down.

  He knew she was lying, but what could she do? She didn’t want him to show his ass, bring the good times to a crashing halt due to a jealous rage. Once again, Xenia figured she could just handle this situation herself, and hell, maybe she could have, but this was fucking disrespectful. It would be a cold day in Angel Child hell before he allowed a man, any man, to push up on his woman in his damn face at that, and not call the son of a bitch on it. Then, he looked into her eyes. Xenia was pleading with him…begging…

  Okay…you really do need to pull yourself together.

  He was prepared to let bygones be bygones, so he simmered down, self soothed and took a step back…but then, the motherfucker had to go and push the envelope and take everything to the point of no return.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” the man sneered. “Besides…it’s a free country, right? She can’t take photos?” He huffed.

  “Don’t try to be slick, you know what the fuck you were doing,” Saint said calmly. Someone grabbed his arm but he shook them off.

  “Marriage ain’t nothing but a piece of paper. You don’t own this. She still has the right to choose and maybe I’ll get lucky tonight.” The man abruptly turned away and grabbed onto to Xenia again, this time, a bit tighter.

  “Okay, you need to let go of me,” she stated loudly so that all could hear.

  The gig was up. She now looked rather perturbed which turned on the fires inside Saint once again. She couldn’t even play along anymore, try to make this shit go away. No. It was as good as done.

  “Come on, baby!” The man laughed and ran his palm over her tit, cupping it just so.