by Tiana Laveen
“Saint, I provide a service and I do it with dignity, with honor. That is important to me.”
“I’m certain that it is.” An assortment of birds flew towards Saint, against the wind, away from Koki.
“You see, these pedophiles need to be punished. It’s my job to expose the lying preachers, the women cheating on their hard-working husbands, the drug addicts bringing the property value down. I did not create the sins and deviant behavior. I cannot be faulted for the weaknesses of others. Someone such as yourself should understand the need to make the deviant pay.”
“Yet the problem with you, Koki, is that you whisper in the child molester’s ear, telling him or her it’s okay to see a mere child in a sexual manner. Then when he proceeds, you influence the judicial system, swinging to whatever side would give you the most satisfaction. You are the cause and the ending of the trouble; for this, you do not receive special favor. You are the mouse and the mousetrap. There will be no brownie points given for such a thing.”
“Saint, how would you like to proceed?”
“Hmmm, that’s a good question.” Saint slid his hand into his pocket and thought about it, as if the question had never entered his mind before. “Well, I think we should get this over with sooner rather than later.”
“We agree on that, man…yeah.” The man cracked a crooked grin. “You want to set a date?”
“Nah, that won’t be necessary. I’ll just come for you.”
“And I’ll be waiting and ready.”
“You’ll be waiting, but you could never be ready.”
They both stopped walking and faced one another, Koki never losing his grin. Giving each other a pound, they turned and went their separate ways as if it all had been planned, orchestrated, discussed in great detail prior to their park meeting.
As Saint drew closer to his car, sucking his teeth and feeling emotionally beat up, he paused by a trashcan and retched up his lunch. Clinging to it, he threw up, his stomach twisting and knotting with each lunge. He reached into his jacket pocket and removed a Kleenex, patted at his mouth. People moseyed by and he smiled sheepishly, offering quiet apologies for the scene they witnessed.
Being in such close proximity with evil always made him sick. It took everything in him to keep quiet and focus on his path to reach the inevitable goal. Through all of that, Saint felt sorry for the cretin. Koki was smart, soulless down to his core and envied by thousands. Regardless, he lived a very cold existence, devoid of emotions and sympathy. Some would call him a sociopath, a puppeteer, preying on the fragilities of the needy and impaired.
Koki was extremely dangerous, a bigger force to be reckoned with than Saint ever imagined. Mentally agile, he could bounce back from his own adversities.
Saint reached his silver Lamborghini, unlocked it and slid inside, then let his head fall on the steering wheel. He turned on the radio and heard his wife’s voice, which instantly calmed his nerves. The woman was in mid-interview with someone, and as usual, she sounded cool under pressure.
“Hi baby…I know you can’t hear me, but your voice is music to my damn ears.” He pulled away from the curb and entered the thick traffic to make his way back to the office. As he approached a red light, he grabbed his phone and dialed Lawrence’s office.
“Hey Saint, how are you doing? We were wondering where you were. The meeting starts soon and you’re not on the premises. There is a—”
“Yeah, Lawrence, hold that thought. Get Jagger on three way, please.”
“Of course.”
Soon, Jagger joined the conversation. “’Sup, Lawrence and Saint, what’s going on?” he huffed, seemingly just getting settled in his seat.
“What’s going on? Let me tell you what’s going on, man. I just met with Koki, had an interesting conversation.”
“…Holy shit. Are you okay? You seem rather calm considering,” Jagger stated.
“I’m fine.” Saint quickly looked over his left shoulder and switched lanes. A cab driver honked at him, angry because he’d been cut off. “Oh, get tha fuck outta here!” Saint yelled at the guy. “Look guys, this man is no joke, okay. After our meeting about the Bronzer case with the Rainbeau Knights, we need to huddle and come up with some strategies. Now I see firsthand why he appears untouchable.”
“What did you discover, Saint?” Lawrence questioned, his tone full of concern as he searched for a read of the situation.
“I discovered he isn’t afraid to die. That’s not a motivation at all for him to stop and back off. He’s not alive to even care what death really feels like… He’s soulless.”
“And what else?”
“He has hated me since the day I was born. I could feel it as soon as we shook hands. Gentlemen, this is now personal…”
*
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Xenia patted her hands dry in the cozy studio bathroom. The soft earth tones served to lull the most amped person on any given day into sedation, but had no affect on her bubbly disposition. She was in rare form, happy as could be. She shimmied a bit, adjusted her shirt, causing her vibrant, gold bangles to click and clank together like a hand against a tambourine. She couldn’t wipe the bright vermillion lipstick smile off her face. The day had been just that good. She’d had a wonderful interview with Miley Cyrus, causing their ratings to soar through the damn roof. Reliving the moment in her mind, she delicately wrapped a Kleenex tightly around her index finger and dabbed at her mouth, taking care of the slight smudging as she gave herself a once over.
Today had been so good, it felt hypnagogic. From the time she awoke to discover Saint had asked Florence, the nanny who’d arrived a few minutes early, to make her blueberry waffles, she thought she’d died and gone to ‘Blessed Day’ heaven. The added pecan syrup on top of the already amazing day was the fact that the sexy son of a bitch, the man she’d given her heart to, had lingered about to join her for mealtime, sealing their morning with a seductive, minty kiss. He’d made love to her twice in the wee hours of the daybreak—slow, easy then hard and pounding. Her thighs still quaked from the memory of his thrusting, proficient cock moving steadily between her legs…
She’d even had a worthy hair day, she thought as she admired the large, thick, halo braid wrapped securely around her head. She patted it, enjoying the spongy softness as it bounced against her fingertips.
Alright, time to head home.
Out the bathroom, she maneuvered up the hall, her black leather purse swinging with each exultant step she took. Upon entering the elevator, she waved goodbye to some of the staff that passed her way. A Latino man in a mustard yellow sweater and dark tan slacks joined her on her ride. His outward appearance didn’t match his stance. Chunky and a bit overwhelming in build, like a slightly overweight linebacker, he had mild mannerisms and a gentle smile. He looked respectable enough, and with the day she’d had, she couldn’t help but to smile back. He nodded sweetly in her direction, then looked back down at his brown loafers, his thick hands clasped together. As they approached the first floor to enter the parking garage, she exited first, only to have the man clumsily trip and fall smack dab against her ass, so hard he almost knocked her completely over.
“Ahhh!” she cried, winded, as she caught her fall against a nearby receptionist counter, hitting her hip at an awkward angle. A second later, she observed her purse sail several feet away.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, ma’am!” he blabbered, his big, reddened face turning an even brighter hue with embarrassment as he got to his clumsy feet. Humiliated, he scattered away like a rodent, grabbed her purse and handed it to her, bowing and apologizing, partially in Spanish.
Despite her annoyance, she couldn’t help feel a pang of sympathy. “It’s okay,” she said, looking him over as she placed her purse back over her shoulder. “Are you alright?” She glanced at the sooty smudges on the poor man’s left knee where he’d landed on the darn floor. He’d no doubt be left with a nasty bruise.
He nodded vigorously, apologized once more and dashe
d away. He seems unusually shy… What a strange man.
She made her way to her snow white Infinity G, slid onto the leather seat and sat there for a moment. For some reason, she suddenly felt exhausted, as if she’d run a marathon. Just moments prior, she had all the energy in the world, feeling amped up for an evening of fun and pleasure with her family. Now, all she could do was dream of taking a nap as soon as she got home. She started her car, and maneuvered out the parking spot, frowning. A yawn came on, and then another.
I have to get home and get in the bed… Goodness, I must’ve worked harder today than I imagined…
*
Koki moved the glossy, ebony bishop with steadfast precision as he enjoyed a riveting game of chess with Zoo. He could smell ‘the woman’ all over the man; their brief interaction had apparently had left him stained with her essence. Sickening, yet beautiful all at once. He surmised she wore expensive perfumes, and in some way, Saint had changed her natural aroma. Lounging in his seat, he mulled over that notion, understanding how soulmates tended to do just that…
He knew little of the woman, didn’t need to know much. Saint had literally written the book on how to address him, bring him to his knees. He couldn’t believe his luck when he landed upon the passages where the key to a ménage of magnificent delicacies was dropped in his damn lap.
“What does she look like?” he questioned, more for conversation than curiosity.
“She’s black.” Zoo studied the board, seemingly afraid to make the wrong damn move. After all, he had a hundred dollars riding on this.
“No shit, Zoo.” Koki grinned as he waited patiently for the man to take his turn. “I read a few of his books, tried to study up on him a bit since I’d been out the loop.” He shrugged. “That’s just his preference, it doesn’t mean shit. To me, pussy is pussy; it has no color. Forget all of that though. Tell me about her …” He ran his hand over his bottom lip and tapped it gently, strategizing his next chess move.
Zoo touched his white knight, but hesitated as he continued to scan the board, going into the basement level of stealth mode.
“She loves him. It was all over her. She seems fairly happy, too.”
“Well.” Koki sighed and shrugged. “That makes this all the better. Ironically, she wasn’t even in the equation for me until I figured out how to handle the situation in a more, shall I say, diplomatic way.” A kinked grin broke across his face. “This isn’t about her, but a man like Saint, I mean…you have to handle him with calculated steps.”
“What do you mean?”
“He has to be chopped down little by little, Zoo…like a big cypress tree. He has built himself up so high,” he said, raising his hand in the air, “one hack to the knees just won’t cut it.” Koki bit into his bottom lip as he deliberated for a moment or two. “He’s impressive, but of course, I knew he would be.”
“How’d your meeting go? You never told me, man…just instructed me to find his woman.”
“It went as well as could be expected.” Koki groaned. “It wasn’t a pre-discussed get-together or anything like that.” He hunkered down, leaned slightly forward and surveyed the board. “I knew as soon as I got there though, man, he was near. This morning I had a feeling I’d see him, actually. He is on top of his shit, that’s for sure. This was just a matter of time, really.”
Fact of the matter was, Koki had been avoiding the son of a bitch. Not out of fear, but for his wish to draw the shit out, make the fucker squirm. Much to his surprise, Saint was seemingly in no rush. He’d barely gotten a rise out of the son of a bitch, and he found that both commendable and frustrating.
Koki waited a couple more minutes in silence as Zoo continued to deliberate over the board.
“Shit…you fat fuck! What is taking so goddamn long?” Koki laughed lightly. “Either shit or get off the pot, man! I got shit to do.”
“I got money riding on this, Koki. I have to be careful,” Zoo explained, as if that was a new revelation, something to ease Koki’s concerns.
“So, what you asked me to do…” Zoo paused. “I’m a little confused.”
“You usually are, Zoo…but I like you all the same,” Koki teased, causing the man to grin.
“You never really told me what your end goal was.” The man moved his knight, his brow soon collecting sweat beads and glistening under the recessed lights.
“Oh…it will all play out. One thing, that you should know about me after all these years is that I think long and hard about things before I take an action. I also never tell anyone, not even my brother, everything I have planned. That’s how mothafuckas get fucked up…too many witnesses. If someone gets nabbed and put under pressure, they can make the entire floor fall out the damn scheme. Nah, I keep that shit to myself. Everyone is on a need to know basis. These are the chopping to the knees I was talking about. Little by little…little by mothafuckin’ little.” He smiled grandly. “See.” He pointed to Zoo as he drove his point home. “I will tell you this much, though. With a guy like Saint, it has to be repeated cutting to his spirit, in the same damn spot. I have to pick at the scab as soon as it looks like it is about to heal.
“I’ve watched this mothafucka for years, man. He’s changed a lot…wiser, stronger…but everyone can be chopped down—everyone, Zoo, and don’t you forget it.” He looked sternly across the table at the big man. His eyes burned, turning blood red from the whites, cornea, irises, the whole shebang.
“Even a cypress tree, multi-tiered Angel Child can be taken down a notch or two, cut down to size, made to break away from its roots. And man,” he said, sneering, “I can’t wait to yell, ‘Timber!’”
*
It was two in the morning and all he could do was look at her. She’d been asleep for a long ass while. He didn’t want to wake her, but his dick had other plans. Drawing close to her form, nose to her neck, he inhaled her delicate perfume and the coconut conditioner she used in her hair.
Damn, you smell so good. I want to taste your pussy, baby…wanna push my tongue inside of you, turn you on…make you wet, make you cum. And then, slide my cock inside of you…
“Mmmm…” he moaned, growing increasingly harder.
Tugging at the zebra print silk scarf wrapped around her head, he roused her. Her eyes fluttered in confusion. She gripped her emerald satin pillow, her eyes fluttering in confusion. Half her face was covered in fabric lines from the sheets.
“Hey, baby.” He scooted even closer. “How are you? You feelin’ okay?” A silky pale pink baby doll nightgown clung to her body like a second skin, driving him crazy.
With a stretch and a yawn, Xenia sat up and leaned against the headboard, listless and still in a daze.
“Yeah, sweetie, I just got tired is all. It probably caught up with me.” She smiled wearily and rubbed her eye with her small fist. “I’ve been going in extra early, ’cept for today, and not getting enough rest.” She brought her hand to her lips and yawned. “I’ll be okay. How were the kids?” She peered at the alarm clock by his side of the bed.
“Good. Dakarai even ate all of his vegetables.” Saint smiled as he pressed his leg to hers and rested a hand on her upper thigh. Xenia grinned and nodded, her doze-factor still high and in full effect.
“That’s great. Sorry I missed dinner…”
“That’s okay, honey.” He brought himself impossibly closer, fastened himself to her, and nestled his lips in the crevice of her neck, kissed her slowly up and down, barely giving her room to breathe. The woman squirmed in his grip.
“Saint,” she said, struggling, playing hard to get. “I’m tired, baby.”
“You couldn’t be…you’ve been sleep for over eight hours already. You know you want it.” He grinned into her ear and lowered her down onto her back. “You always say that when I wake you up early in the morning, and then before I know it, you’re fucking the hell outta me.” He lightly laughed as he lifted her gown, exposing her pussy for his viewing pleasure.
“Don’t…”
“You’re such a tease.” He ran his finger up the center of her valley, opening up her folds just so. Without further ado, he dove like a deep-sea diver between her legs. He flicked his tongue against her pussy, and then again. Her hand wrapped tighter around him until he felt a hard tug at his scalp, and then another.
Damn…that kinda hurt!
Before he could inquire what the deal was, she screamed, blasting his eardrum.
“Stop it!” she barked angrily. “What the hell is wrong with you, huh? I said I was tired, goddamn it! Get tha fuck off me!”
He ceased all movement and looked into her eyes. So cold…so dark…
He hated to admit the shit, but his damn feelings were hurt at that moment. Xenia had never spoken to him like that before, shooting profanities at him. And the way she looked at him…he felt like some virus, like a disease that had invaded her home, her personal space, her body. Sure, she cursed from time to time, but this was downright diabolic, her tone hideously acidic. He had no idea how to respond, what to say…
He slid away from her, landing on his back. He looked up at the ceiling for a minute or two and crossed his hands over his stomach.
“Xenia.” He broke the silence with an even tone. “Did I do something? If I’ve upset you, just tell me. I haven’t been reading your mind. I have no idea if I’ve caused you problems for which I deserve this level of hostility. What’s wrong?”
She abruptly turned on her side, her back facing him.
“I’m just tired, Saint,” she mumbled. “That’s all. Go to sleep.”
Saint got to his feet and made his way to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. He was crushed, not because she didn’t give him any pussy candy to lick on and swallow down, but because of what she said, how she said it, and how she looked at him. He leaned onto the vast marble vanity, his back bent low as he gripped the damn thing. He’d been completely rejected by his Goddess, and had never felt so insecure with her before in their entire time knowing one another.