Saint And Sinners (46 page)

“Nah, I’m good. Hmmm, interesting. I will need to go about this another way.”

“Sorry, Koki.”

“No need to apologize, Gigi.” He sighed, rose from his seat, and eyed her rolling
a joint. Grinning, catching his reflection in the mirror above her bed. That mirror
had captured their sexual antics so many times, he’d lost count. If he were able to
love a woman, she might be a contender. But of course, fucking someone and having
emotional attachments towards them were two separate things. Gigi wouldn’t make a
good wife; she had jealous tendencies, would fly off the handle and at times, tried
to pull rank. The other issue had nothing to do with her. Simply put, the thought
of being tied down to one woman sickened Koki and besides, monogamy was overrated.
She was a real wild cat though, a dedicated minx, down for the cause. He lingered
there, running his hands along the length of the gun in his pocket while the dark
purple candles flickered, their flames bowing down to him. The shiny metal gave him
a hard on as he sucked his teeth and debated blowing her fucking brains out. She’d
failed after all, but the poor thing didn’t even know it.

Nah, I might be able to use her later. Besides, she’s a good fuck. No sense in burning
that bridge just yet.

“Koki.”

“Yeah?” He paused.

“Don’t think I didn’t know he may have killed me. He looked mad, real mad.”

“So what? What’s your point?” He shrugged.

“He’s dangerous. You should’ve seen him. I could smell him, too… He’s sweet, like
someone doused him in perfume. It made my stomach hurt. Please don’t send me after
him again, to deliver messages, nothing.”

The bitch was grating his very last nerve.

“You’re not making any rules or regulations, Gigi. You do what I fucking tell you
to do, you understand me?!”

She turned away, looked down into her tin can of ashes and weed. Her slanted hazel
eyes could be seen in the bedroom headboard reflection, warped and gold, soft and
delicate, like her ass cheeks, perched up high in the air.

“I told you, he is far less likely to kill a woman. He has this Casanova, Pussy Savior
persona.” He shot off a crooked grin, trying to regain his cool.

“I thought you loved me,” she whispered, her lips drawn into a pouty bow.

“I don’t. I love no one, and you know that. I’m incapable. We’ve already been through
this.”

That was another issue with Gigi. She listened to her heart far too often, became
embroiled in emotions. Some of the female Demon Children got this way. It was a terrible
ordeal. Though less emotional than female Angel Children and civilians, they sometimes
would convince themselves they knew what love looked like, smelled like, and felt
like. Gigi didn’t know what the fuck it was, she only wished she did…and she wished
she did with
him
.

“…Sent me out to the wolf all by myself,” she whined.

“He’s not a wolf, he’s a man, just like everybody else in this damn place that you’ve
fucked over, beside, above and under, hundreds of times. Swallow the shit like cum
and move the hell on, goddamn.” He slipped a cigarette out of his pocket and quickly
lit it with the strike of his baby fingernail.

“Swallow the shit like cum?” She issued a maniacal laugh. “Koki, you aren’t shit,
you know that?”

“I do.” He winked at her, squinted his eye and blew out the flame.

“Others may be afraid to tell you just what you are, but I’m not. You’ve got everyone
fooled but
me
.”

“I’m not trying to fool anyone, Gigi. And that’s a fact. I’m just being me.” He pointed
proudly to himself. “If you don’t like how I run things, you can always bounce. No
one is begging you to stay with me. I sure as hell won’t lose any sleep over it. You
came to me all those years ago, remember? Not the other way around.”

“…And I’ve paid for it.”

“You’re a fucking pain in the ass.” He inhaled his cigarette, his eyes turned to pitch-black
slashes. “I should have gotten rid of you a long time ago. You can’t even have a conversation
with a motherfucker who was eyeballing you, drawing you in. You had his ass
right
there, and you blew it! You somehow managed to
Fuck. That, Up
!” His voice roared, shaking the walls.

“Fuck you, Koki!” she cried, pushing the envelope, her voice trembling.

“No, fuck your sister and your whore ass mother, bitch! What a lousy fuck your mom
was, though.” He puffed loops of smoke into midair. “You must have gotten your dick
sucking skills from your faggot father. I bet he’s goooood!” He burst out laughing,
tickled to fucking death as he squeezed the verbal knife in her heart. She needed
to be set straight, understand the pecking order.

“I hope he wipes the damn floor with you!” She turned on a dime, her eyes glistening
like a hungry cobra’s. Ahhhh yes, a woman scorned had revealed her true, icy colors;
she’d make him pay no doubt for his cruel, callous words. He hated her at that moment
for she was weak, unable to accept and handle the truth. And that was something he
found simply unforgiveable.

“You’re such a fuckin’ disappointment, Gigi. The body of a priestess and your pussy
is the best I’ve ever stuck my cock in. What a fuckin’ waste.”

She arched upward, lifting off the bed as she seethed. A ferocious roar escaped her
widened mouth, but it was too late. Koki whipped his gun out in a flash and embedded
a bullet smack dab in the middle of her fucking forehead. She was dead upon contact,
lifeless, turning ash before his eyes as she fell back onto the bed like a tawny feather,
her blood barely detectable amongst the crimson sheets.

Pocketing the gun, he casually zipped up his white leather coat, said a customary
farewell, and disappeared in a small tornado of gray smoke, right there on the damn
spot…

*

“S
omebody’s gonna tell
me something, goddamn it!” Saint blustered as he got out of his car, slamming the
door hard behind him. The street vibrated under his feet; he made the shit shake,
rattle and roll under his hard, pulsating paces as he navigated his way past the small
crowd of children. There they all stood, smacking wads of fragrant gum and toying
with their electronic devices, waiting for their parents and caretakers to whisk them
away to a place called home.

Home. Yeah. Where Xenia waited with his second eldest and baby girl, none the wiser
as she toiled away over the stove preparing a perfect bounty for their bodies. He’d
confess the truth of the details once he had the boy in his grasp, but he wasn’t calm
enough to rein himself in, for even the wind couldn’t get a blow in edgewise. The
leaves, in shades of burnt auburn and sunset orange, appeared to flutter and flow
in slow motion as Saint’s footsteps continued to pound the pavement. In that moment,
he caught Hassani’s dark eye and all bets were off. The boy immediately knew what
was up, and he stiffened straight as a board—thrusting his palms forward as if a strong
gust of air was knocking him to and fro. But to Hassani’s apparent surprise, Saint
bumped into him, hurling past as if he were an inconsequential berry bush in his way
to the main mothafuckin’ prize.

“Daddy, no!” Hassani kept hot on his father’s heels, begging and beseeching, his tone
chock full of un-cried tears at the brink of cascading down his cheeks. The boy was
imploring for mercy, but it was far too late.

“Please, Daddy!” he pleaded as he grabbed the hem of his father’s jacket, only for
the material to be yanked from his grip when the King of the Castle kept on marching
towards Angel.

That’s him… I know that’s his ass alright!

The boy was sitting rather carefree on the front steps of the school, not a worry
in his damn Easter egg-shaped head, not a care in his crazy little Angel Child world.
Surely he’d seen him by now but he had to keep up appearances, play it cool. Then,
he saw the boy gulp. His long neck stretched and his Adam’s apple bobbed, but the
fucker continued to divert eye contact.

Look at this little grimy lookin’ mothafucka! You little pint sized son of a bitch!

Two fast assed girls sat next to the pompous prick, their eyes full of stars and their
smiles filled with child-like silliness, admiring the raven haired Puerto Rican in
their midst, but not for long. Saint yanked the boy up by the lapel of his jacket,
as if it was nothing and Angel weighed the same as a warm piece of dog shit left out
in a field of grass.

“You leave my son alone, do you hear me?!”

Angel’s legs dangled in midair and his mouth hung open, his hazel eyes widened in
surprise. He offered nothing but that silly look on his face, which only caused Saint
to become impossibly angrier.

“Because of
you
, Hassani has been doing the wrong thing! I know he’s been skipping school, you punk!
He would have
never
skipped out on school if you hadn’t influenced him!” Saint could feel the rumble
in his chest from his own thundering voice and even though he knew what Krishna had
said was true, he could not stop himself, reel himself in. This was
his
son, and he would die protecting him if he had to!

“The butler is an A.C.!” the boy squeaked, a strange expression on his contorted face
as he persistently kicked his legs wildly about in Saint’s grip, causing the two girls
to scatter away from him like startled mice. Their screaming suddenly brought Saint
into full focus. He looked around, realizing he was now the focal point of frightened,
small eyes and little mouths agape. He gulped and slowly lowered Angel back down from
where he’d snatched him upward like a drawn shoestring. Hassani ran a soft hand across
his elbow, bringing him back even more firmly into the moment. Saint swiped his palm
over his forehead, feeling delirious and confused, but still marinating in the thick
sauce of fury. He couldn’t shake it…but he was monitoring how he simmered now.

He is an Angel Child, too…

Saint sniffed around the boy, inhaling deeply the familiar, cologne type sweetness
and the boy’s hormonal youth mixed together that created an interesting aroma.

“I need to speak to you. Privately,” Saint snarled, taking the boy roughly about the
neck, practically dragging him and Hassani along the pavement like garden tools needed
for a big haul.

“Aaaaaah man! You hurtin’ me, damn! What chew doin’?!” the boy shouted.

Saint ignored his groans and demands for information and to be released from his grasp.
Soon, all three stood close to Saint’s car. He crossed his arms and looked down at
the little fucker whose nostrils spread as he looked up at him, trying to still look
tough. Saint returned the stance with a special one of his own, causing the boy to
turn away; he even shuddered as he looked towards something, anything but Saint.

Don’t try me you little half grown piece of shit. You obviously don’t who I am but
you about to find the fuck out…

He knew the guy was only a kid, but he had a man’s heart, like he’d lived a thousand
lifetimes, and Hassani didn’t need that sort of drama around him. Father and son stared
at one another for a long while.

“Daddy, I—”

“Be quiet!” Saint yelled at his son, his face now heating as more anger poured into
his very being. “Don’t …say…anything!” He pointed at Hassani, his fingertip dancing
dangerously close to his nose.

“What do you want with my son?”

“…What?! I didn’t know he was
this
type of mothafucka! His energy is stranglin’ me! You coulda got me killed, man! You
aint tell me your father was an A.C.! A multi-tiered one at that!” The boy shot Hassani
a look as if he, too, wanted to do the little nine-year-old harm.

“Watch your mouth! Now you tell me why you’ve been hanging around with my son. You
are at least thirteen! Too old to be hangin’ with a little boy.”

The boy looked up at him, fear all over his face. For the very first time in the whole
incident, Saint felt his resentment marry with tinges of sympathy. He placed his hand
on the boy’s shoulder and lowered his voice.