Saint And Sinners: The King Angel Child of New York

by Tiana Laveen

  “Oh fuck…it’s uh wrap!” Saint heard Raphael yell from a short distance. “Man, whoever you are, you gotta leave! Leave now!” Raphael blurted, his voice trembling with concern. He stepped beside Saint.

  Saint jammed his face back into the guy’s.

  “I hope that feel you copped was worth it to you!” he hissed between clenched teeth.

  “What tha fuck you gone do, man?” the man laughed and rolled his eyes. “John Travolta wannabe ass!”

  Suddenly, those words hit him in a new way…as if Sinclair was standing there, taunting him, telling him all over again how he resembled John Travolta from the movie. He’d forgotten all about that comment until that moment. A new breed of hatred formed in the pit of his gut for the man, and all that had come before him…trying to fuck up his life, hurt his woman…

  The man chuckled. “Besides, your Oriental fortune cookin’ lookin’ ass ain’t got what it takes. You ain’t got the stick to be able to handle all … this… ass on this pretty little woman right here, son. She got the type of body that needs to be rocked steady!”

  “What tha fuck did you just say?!”

  “Saint…it’s not worth it, baby!” Xenia pulled his arm, but he shook loose.

  “Okay man, get out!” Raphael blurted as he pointed towards the door.

  “I said you can’t handle that big ol’ ass on your wife, man! Your dick probably the size of a grain of rice! She obviously got wit’ you because of your money!” He could smell the liquor rolling off the man’s tongue, loosening it, to feed an ego he wanted stroked, but Saint didn’t give a shit. He wasn’t in the mood to pet a damn thing. The bastard was drunk… Didn’t matter, he’d make him suddenly sober in 3…2…1

  BAM! Balling his fists just so, Saint launched the son of a bitch several feet across the damn dance floor.

  “Saint!” Xenia screamed out as the crowd roared and hollered.

  The man hit the floor like a stack of children’s’ alphabet blocks. Blood flew through the air as he fell backwards onto the shiny ground, aglow with dancing lights chiming to the beat of, Sister Sledge, “He’s the Greatest Dancer.”

  Saint went back for seconds. He was nowhere near finished. As he took his first steps forward, he felt the familiar tiny hands pulling on him, and then others joined in, trying to restrain him.

  The D.J. screamed over the microphone—“Okay now! Cool down, brotha. We have a little disruption it appears. Let’s make love, not war, people!”

  “That was the ‘60’s, not ‘70’s!” someone screamed out. “Get yo’ decades right, man! The ’70s was ‘Fight tha Power’, mothafucka, and he fightin’ it alright!”

  “He had it coming!” someone else yelled, giggling behind their words.

  Feeling overwhelmed, like a wild bull caught in a snare, Saint turned towards Xenia then immediately snatched Raphael’s dark shades from his attire. His eyes were glowing red; he could feel the heat coming and soon, he wouldn’t be able to hide it. It was a damn iconic costume party, but nowhere in that damn movie had Tony Manero sported piercing garnet eyes! Saint had lost complete and utter control. Seconds later, he swooped Xenia up in his arms, clutched the frantic woman tight to his chest and hauled her away, like King Kong in the damn jungle dashing off with the pretty little white woman. She hollered in his ear and demanded answers, but “Rock Your Baby’ by George McCrae drowned her out as he pushed her inside of the men’s bathroom, locked the main door, and forced her into the handicap stall at the far end of the joint.

  “What are you doing?!” she screamed when he locked the damn thing too and slid her up the shiny navy blue wall, tugging on her pants like a kid does a wrapper on a sucker.

  “You’re mine!”

  “Saint, have you gone crazy?! You couldn’t possibly be drunk so quickly. We just got here! Get off me!”

  He paused, his chest heaving, his nostrils flaring, and his cock thickening to the point that it was almost painful.

  “You really want me to stop?” he said between gritted teeth.

  He was met with silence.

  He shoved her pants down her legs and her panties followed suit. Leaning hard against her, his shoulder blade pressing into hers, he frantically undid his stiff pants button and zipper.

  “Ahhhh!” she screamed out, foraging her fingers in his hair when he thrust his cock deeply inside of her, rocking her against the wall. “Shit! Saint! What tha fuck?!” Her eyes rolled; she held on tightly to his back while he continued to drive within her, over and over, forcing her body to slide and rock hard against the wall. He gripped the back of her neck, the intensity in his eyes continued to burn. The glasses shielded the show, protecting her from the anger that continuously formed and grew within him.

  “Uhhh!” He raged on. He had to put his fury somewhere; things were becoming too strong, too much.

  First, he was losing his son, the close bond they’d had; second, he wanted Xenia to always be protected, but he feared he couldn’t shield her from every single thing. Besides, she was a grown woman. She didn’t need him running in to save the damn day all the time, but he still wanted to safeguard her, all the same… He couldn’t help it. He’d tried, in vain.

  “I love you so damn much!” he screamed as his pelvis bumped harshly into hers. “Never forget that!”

  She gripped the back of his hair and sank her teeth into the side of his neck as she came, almost breaking the skin. Emboldened by her moans, he pounded with all of his might, fucked her hard and furious, his grunts loud and ferocious. She began to shake against him when a second orgasm gripped her and before he could grasp the notion, he released inside of her, lunging upward, shooting his semen within her wet, warm confines for the second time that evening.

  “Ahhhh…” He closed his eyes and tried to catch his breath. With a gentle hand, he stroked the side of her face, his heart beating fast and frenzied in his chest. After a few moments’ rest, they cleaned up and exited the bathroom in silence, only to emerge to the scene of people dancing around, merry as ever. He’d walked away from a nightmare and into an alluring dream. He didn’t give a shit where Mr. ‘Free World’ was or how he was doing, as long as he got nowhere near him or his woman. People were line dancing to “Rock with You”, by Michael Jackson. Xenia began to sway to the beat, a sexy smile on her face.

  “Come on, baby. I love this song.” She grinned. He was relieved she was talking to him again after what he’d done on the dance floor, losing his cool like that. Yet, fucking the shit out of her against that bathroom wall made up for all that, so there was a happy ending after all. He smirked as he took note that her gait was a bit slower than usual.

  She took Saint’s hand and led him to the dance floor. There, they spotted Traci waving them over while Jagger moved stiff as a piece of cardboard, trying to keep up with the crowd. He’d never seen such horrific dancing—reminiscent of Frankenstein trying to stomp roaches, a knee-less monster crashing the party. Saint pointed to him like a child making fun of the class clown, then bent at the waist, laughing so hard it almost hurt.

  “Xenia!” Traci called out, all smiles as she moved effortlessly to the beat.

  At least one of ’em has rhythm…damn.

  “Please help your man, Traci,” Saint whispered while trying to get himself together. Through his silly episode, he’d lost track of his Queen. He looked to the right and left—no Xenia. Soon though, he caught sight of her maneuvering across the room, jumping into the song as if she’d been born to do so. She’d left him in the dust…

  Saint made his way towards her and stood between her and Traci, dancing with the crowd and dare he say it, he was now having a wonderful time. Jagger had accepted his fate and disappeared off to the bar. Saint clapped his hands to the beat, loving all the smiling faces congregated together, moving to the same rhythm as if they’d rehearsed all morning and afternoon. Then, in a flash, the song switched to ‘Night Fever’ by the Bee Gees.

  Oh no…

  Before he could see him, he heard Raph
ael burst out laughing, getting the crowd going. They clapped and moved away from Saint as if he had a contagious virus, offering him the dance floor to do his damn thing. The D.J. chimed in, “We have our very own doppelganger…the man out there…”—a spotlight suddenly came over Saint’s form—“…is going to dance for us…at least his wife and friend say so!”

  Xenia had escaped…once a mothafuckin’ ’gin!

  What a sneaky ass woman. Dakarai got it honest…

  She was standing close to the D.J., waving and nodding at him like some groupie. Then, she signed off with a wink and a blown kiss. So what was wrong with giving them all an eyeful? Deciding to go along with the game, he raised his hand in the air and caught it before he began to sway to the beat, causing the crowd to go into a clapping frenzy. He recalled the movie like he’d just seen it yesterday, and began to move like Travolta had…doing the hustle as the lights of the dance floor glowed bright and changed colors over and over, drowning him in disco passion. Zoning out proved easy. He felt like he was the only one there, and in a way, he was. The clapping grew louder and louder as he moved about, driven by the memories of his childhood when he’d wished to heaven and hell he’d wake up one sunny, South Bronx morning and be able to move just like the Italian guy in the movie. He later found out John Travolta was half Irish too, but that didn’t matter…that bastard could dance and dress his fucking ass off, and Saint wanted to be just like him.

  The song finally came to an end, and the crowd burst out with a final applause.

  “Now that’s what I call dancin’!” The D.J. laughed. “Who said white men can’t dance?!”

  “…He ain’t white!” someone screamed. “Don’t you listen to the T.V. or read People or Vibe magazine or anything, man? He half chopsticks and half King Tut!”

  This caused a burst of laughter from many, even Saint.

  “Hey!” Saint called out. “D.J., since you are on this Bee Gees kick, can you play ‘How Deep is Your Love’, too? I want to dance with my Queen. Come ’ere, Foxy Brown!” Saint curled his finger in her direction, ushering the pretty little flower over. Without hesitation, she made her way towards him and entered his world, falling deep within his snug embrace.

  Damn…she smells and feels so good…

  “Xenia,” he whispered in her ear as they got into a good groove and people began to pile back onto the dance floor to slow dance with their lovers.

  “Yes, baby?” she whispered, holding him a bit tighter, the soft, synthetic curls of her fro brushing against his face.

  “I want to tell you, that…I need to thank you for being my everything.” He felt chocked up. He wasn’t sure if it was the beer, the adrenaline from the fight he’d had earlier with the mothafucka who tried him, or the way he fucked her with all of his might against the bathroom wall—but he needed her so close to him at that moment, and needed to pour out his feelings, explain to the woman that she was the reason he breathed. His saving grace, his motive for living, loving, caring and sharing.

  “You…are my oxygen. My heart, my limbs, my soul… I’m nothin’ without you, baby. I’m sorry about getting so crazy earlier. I probably should have just grabbed you and walked away, but…I can’t do that. I wish I could, but that’s just not who I am. I know it’s a character flaw, I know… I’m going through some things, but I can get through anything as long as you are by my side, Xenia.”

  She kissed him sweetly, her soft lips caressing the side of his face. They looked into each other’s eyes for a long while, then hugged real tight again with him nestled close to her, resting his chin gently on her head.

  “I’ll always be by your side, Saint. Nothing can make me leave, ever.”

  He looked past her shoulder and took note of Jagger and Traci slow dancing, too. Their bodies stood so close, they looked almost like one person. Jagger was dressed like a hippie, a headband around his head, and Traci had on a green spandex suit. What a sight. He loved the spectacle, relished it. The man still looked like a newlywed; his love for the woman dripped all over the damn dance floor, greasing up the place…and he knew he and Xenia looked like they’d had just exchanged vows, too.

  Yeah…the love of a good woman had a way of making the hardest mothafucka melt like candle wax once her lips met his. Xenia made him feel some kinda way. With her, he was just gone…

  *

  Chapter Nineteen

  “This is real nice, man.” Saint vigorously shook his classic black umbrella outside of the brownstone door, then handed it to Lawrence. Light music played, reminding him of some jazzy 1960’s elevator music.

  “Thank you. Please, come inside.”

  Saint stepped over the threshold and immediately caught the whiff of fried fish, collard greens and yams. His stomach flipped in anticipation though he had not been invited for dinner.

  Damn. I didn’t know Donna could cook.

  “Donna is putting the baby down for a nap and cooking dinner.”

  Saint entered the peaceful dwelling. Off to the side he spotted a wall full of beautiful black and white silver framed photographs of mountains, waterfalls and even some city scenes. Cattycorner to it stood a latte fireplace with partially melted light cobalt candles on the mantelpiece and to the left, an assortment of cube shaped sable brown couches, along with over-stuffed pillows on the floor to sit upon. A white table displayed an assortment of heavy bound historic Arizona photography books, more candles, a wine bottle with a few sticks of incense jetting out of it and an unopened chilled bottle of Snapple, just for Saint. He joined Lawrence on the floor, folding his legs and placing his hands on his knees as if about to meditate.

  “Would you like to stay for dinner?” the man invited, pointing to Saint’s shoes. Saint quickly unfolded his legs and removed his brand new white and green Nike sneakers. Pushing them off to the side, he wiggled his toes around in his cotton ankle-sock footies.

  “Sorry, man, I forgot. My brain is kinda muddled.”

  “No problem.” Lawrence offered a kind smile.

  “Well, as far as me staying for dinner, that’s up to Donna, right? I’m not exactly her favorite person.”

  Lawrence snickered. “Look, Saint, that’s not your fault.” He touched his chest. “Besides, she’s warming up to you if you hadn’t noticed.”

  “Well, that’s good to know and I’d not be telling the truth if I tried to pretend I wasn’t interested in having dinner with you all. It smells really good.” He looked towards the kitchen, the wafting aromas driving his hunger pangs. “Xenia is cooking too, but it’s not soul food tonight. I had a craving for soul food actually, but she’d already defrosted the stuff to make pizza.” As he spoke, he regretted complaining, sounding ungrateful. As hungry as he was, he’d probably eat that pizza, too, when he got home.

  Just then, Donna entered the room wearing a pair of almond colored yoga pants and a black crop top. Saint could see her once slender figure had rounded out, showing a slight pouch—her rite of passage of bearing Lawrence’s child. Where some saw no beauty in such a thing, Saint felt a woman’s body after giving birth was a glorious thing. The stretch marks and all brought home how she did what he could never do: birth life, push it from her body into the world. He could only place the seed inside of his Queen, but she had to do all the work after that. To him, a woman’s uterus represented a key handed to her, straight from God, to do His bidding.

  “Saint, I really like it here. I can’t believe it, but I love living here in the city.” She cast her glance to her fireplace, fixating for a moment on her wedding photos. “I liked L.A., too, but this…” The woman looked around her home as if seeing it for the first time. “This right here is my spot. Now sure, it’s a lot smaller than I’m used to. Space is definitely at a premium ’round these parts, but it doesn’t matter. I’m starting to meet people and feel my way around. I thought it would be hard, and yes, I have my challenges, but it is getting easier and easier. It’s like I belong here.”

  He knew that feeling all too well, but he could
not appreciate the words in their current timeframe because he simply felt overwhelmed by the fact she was speaking to him so kindly.

  “Donna,” he said, putting his hand over his heart, “I am sooooo glad to hear that.”

  “I haven’t spoken to Traci and Jagger in a while. How are they transitioning?” she asked.

  “I heard Traci has found a job and is happy, too. Xenia is very excited for her… Jagger likes it, but I think he misses L.A. He will get to go back often, however. I want him to help be my go-between at that location.”

  “And what about the children?”

  “Dakarai and Isis are acting like nothing has changed so it appears most of us are adjusting well.”

  “…But, you didn’t mention Hassani.” The woman looked genuinely concerned.

  “Well.” Saint sighed. “You know…” He threw up his hands. “He’s nine. He is having a bit of a harder time, but I’m hoping and praying he will see the benefits and not focus as much on all that worries him.”

  Donna nodded in understanding. “You know, he is a really smart boy, Saint. He’ll get the hang of it. New York can be overwhelming for a child that isn’t used to this. It’s fast paced, here. It was fast in L.A, too, but differently so. There is a…” She tapped her finger to her bottom lip. “A different…”

  “Vibe here.” Saint grinned.

  “Exactly! A different vibe. It can be frustrating and intimidating, but I love the people! They seem so much more genuine than L.A.”

  “You know, I am told all the time how rude I and my people are, but I hear what you just said a lot now, too. With us, you are more likely to get what you see, you know? Anyway, again, I’m so happy things are going well. Have you found employment?”

  “Not yet, but I haven’t been looking very hard.” She grinned. “Lawrence wants me to take it easy.”

  “Well, it’s none of my business, but that was part of the point. What you two decide is obviously your concern, but I never want any of you to work outside of the home, if you have small children, unless you just want to. That’s why I make sure the Rainbeau Knights’ salaries are adequate so they can sustain their family and cover their needs, as well as many of their wants. I don’t want anyone struggling or making decisions that negatively impact their quality of life.”