Saint's Sacrament - Sins of the Father (53 page)

“Ahhhh!”
He could hear her excitement over the phone as she laughed. “Oh, yes! I’ve been wanting to meet him. I told my daughter all about him!”

“I hope not
all
about him,” Osaze teased.

“Oh, don’t be a prude, Osaze. I can’t wait. Maybe I can cook dinner?”

“Yes, that would be nice. Saint loves Korean food. His mother made sure he had home cooked meals all the time and I never quite did it as well as she did. I’m sure he’d appreciate it. Like me he doesn’t eat pork, though, and Saint doesn’t eat red meat at all.”

“
No worries! I make a good fish stew and chicken dish! Then it’s settled. I will cook a feast for him and his friend.”

“Well, all right. I look forward to seeing you and I will talk
with you soon. Take care.”

“Same here.” She blew a kiss over the phone,
drawing a smile before he hung up.

He
picked up his leftovers from the couch and placed the bowl and spoon on the kitchen table. He thought about his situation and sighed. He’d picked the woman’s brain for months during all those times of reading to one another. Asked her about spirits, angels, and religion—the whole nine. He’d taken for granted that he never had to explain any of that to Ming Jae—she was just like him—but Kyung Mi wasn’t an Angel Child at all, merely human, which made this difficult. She’d have to be told. He couldn’t risk her seeing something that may startle her and as they got closer, that possibility was almost certain. Osaze was not afraid to tell her, however, for the obvious reasons. The issue in his mind was more complex.

A part of Osaze dreaded it, but another part of him knew he’d feel relieved once he got it off his chest. But before he revealed the truth, he wanted Sa
int to read her—to see if she could possibly be the one, worth the effort and trouble. Now that he had Ming Jae’s blessing, there was only one piece missing: receiving Saint’s. Saint was better at reads than he was, and he didn’t want to be blinded by his own desire for her. He just had to be sure Kyung Mi loved him as much as he loved her. Osaze smiled as the news continued to play in the background. He drifted away into dreamy thoughts, images of him and Kyung Mi kissing and holding hands, but this time, she’d be living in his home with him, wearing a new wedding ring on her finger, and sharing his bed…

~***~

“You dumb ass sons of bitches!” Sinclair barked across the jail cell bars. “Felipe will
never
get out at this rate and you can expect to piss at least five years of your life away in here!” The bond was set so high for the two men he’d hired to teach Saint a lesson, that it would take standing on an airplane at 60,000 feet altitude to even reach it. It was the damn weapons…“Why in the hell did you have guns on you in the first damn place?”

“It’s just precaution, man,” Todd slurred the words as if he were under the influence of a mind altering drug. “We don’t ever do a job without back up. The dude could’ve had a gun himself, Sinclair.”

“He was at the damn grocery store, Todd. Why would he be strapped buying butter and eggs?! The plan was perfect. Shianne had called Xenia that night and had already found out from his wife that he was going over to Trader Joe’s! That’s why I called you two so fast; it was perfect. The place was empty, and he would be relaxed and none the wiser! He was vulnerable and how you two boneheads managed to botch this up is beyond me. This was supposed to be an in and out situation!” Sinclair looked around and lowered his voice. He was there under the guise of the men’s attorney, to have this face to face verbal beat-down.

“I don’t need him dead right now,
” he said angrily, between clenched teeth. “I
need
him alive for this to all work out! He would be no good to me dead! He needs to suffer like I did and the man has gotten me fucking fired. Thank God I’ve put some money away, and finally the dough is rollin’ in again on some favors I’ve called in, otherwise, my ass would be out on the street! All because of this fool you let get away!”

Todd turned away from Sinclair, detaching from the conversation.

“Look at me, motherfucker! Don’t you turn your back on me. You owe me!”

Todd grunted, ran his hand over his unruly, off-black dry curls and looked at Sinclair
through hooded, disinterested eyes.

“
Now, your asses are never getting out of here, especially Felipe. He already had some other shit on his record.” He had trouble controlling his temper as he sat there before the man who looked down nervously at his cuticles. “Jesus Christ!” Sinclair slapped the table. “I’ve hired you an attorney, but…with these gun charges, your asses are up shit’s creek. They say, if you want shit done right, do it yourself. That’s truth!” Sinclair stood, snatched up his portfolio bag and headed out the guarded security doors in an angry huff…

~***~

Shianne removed her glasses and rubbed the side of her head. It had been a long, exhausting evening. She heard her apartment door close as Xavier, the man she’d brought home from the club, left. She sighed and stretched, a big smile on her face. He ate the box, good! But, he worked at a shoe store—she’d never call him again. He was some nice eye candy, too… tall, dark skin, and had a dick that made her bend to his pulsing drumming.

Well, at least he’s in school
. I may give him a call after all…

She stood from her bed, naked. She made her way to the restroom
, finger combed her tasseled hair, then washed her face. A few moments later, she looked at her phone and saw a couple missed calls from Sinclair. The man was starting to work her last nerves. He’d promised her riches. Initially, she was gung-ho to be near him. The man was a music mogul, rich, good looking, though at times high strung. She was sure she’d hit the jackpot and then when he hired her to work on ‘The Morning Tea’, she about pissed herself with excitement. She’d gone from a struggling model and college student to an intern, working side by side with none other than Mrs. Xenia Aknaten. A woman she held in high regard, who she’d fallen in love with her over the years after listening to her sassy interviews with celebrities on the airwaves. She had no idea that Sinclair hated Xenia so much, and it unnerved her initially, but shit, it was of no concern to her. Apparently they had a history she knew nothing about, and the instructions were clear: befriend her, stay in her mix, call her all the time…get in good, and that was what Shianne did.

The only
snafu came when the woman’s husband marched up there and blew a lid on the shindig, causing Sinclair to be fully exposed for the sneaky bastard that he was. Sinclair had no control over his emotions, and Shianne couldn’t help but downgrade him in her estimation after that. She needed a motherfucking king, not some emotional, weak idiot who couldn’t stop pining over his ex-girlfriend. He had her digging around for information about Xenia and her husband and in turn, she did some digging about his ass, too—and found out about his relationship with her boss. Now, it all made sense. He was a wreck and no longer in her top ten picks of men to fuck with. Because he couldn’t keep his shit together, the plan fell apart. She was fine with helping to exact a little revenge against this Saint person, after she found out what he’d done, of course. You just don’t snitch like that on a guy, you don’t mess with a motherfucker’s money. Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth was what she’d been taught from an early age.

The only issue Shianne continued to struggle with was that she actually
really
did like Xenia. It was hard not to. She figured this would be easy, but it was becoming more and more complicated. She didn’t dare tell Sinclair, but guilt was starting to sink in. He wanted her to do more and more, and she began to lose use for him…but she’d promised, and she hated breaking promises that included monetary compensation. Besides, the man was down on his luck right now, and he did help her get this great job that she still had, despite his sloppy ass being booted. Matter of fact, she had a permanent position now because of him. She was officially Xenia’s personal work assistant and that brought in big bucks, apart from boosting her resume and career.

Shianne debated calling the
chump back. She rolled her eyes and just sat there on the edge of her bed, the television on and the sun bathing her through the sheer curtains. She sure as hell wasn’t going to tell him that Xenia had invited her over for lunch. He’d be happy and tell her to use that to extract more information. No, tomorrow she just wanted to have a leisure day, without Sinclair breathing down her throat for information. He also had been trying to get back into her bed but she held him off. Dude was lame in the sex department. It was downright disastrous and perplexing how a man could reach his age, have so many women and notches in his belt, and still fuck like a half dead jellyfish. As soon as his ass would walk out the door, she’d pull out her vibrating rabbit and finish herself off. He’d left her no choice. She was forced to get side dick, to help tide her over. . The guy was supposed to be her boyfriend, but now, her feelings were conflicted. He was still paying her rent and car note however, and he did have some mighty sweet connections—yet more reasons to continue to help him, keep him around. So many conflicts…

She sighed and
went to her kitchenette to fix some coffee. After she heard the maker percolating, she sat down and picked up her phone.

“Heeeeey Xenia, sorry to call you so early.”

“Oh, that’s okay. It’s the weekend but I have kids, I’m up.” Xenia laughed. Shianne could hear children talking in the background. “So, are we still on for lunch tomorrow?”

“Yes
, ma’am! I’m looking forward to it. Matter of fact, that is why I’m calling, just to confirm.”

“Great, I will see you at 12:30 P.M.”

“It’s a date.” She disconnected the call and spun around in the stark white bar stool by her counter, biting her bottom lip and crossing her long legs.

Shit…
may as well get this over with.

She called Sinclair.

“Yes, you rang?” she said sarcastically.

“Where have you been?” he
said gruffly. She could hear traffic. He was probably in his car.

“I was asleep.” She rolled her eyes.

“No, last night. I called you several times…never mind all of that. Look, Felipe and Todd are going to be away for a while.”

“I figured that. I told you yo
u should have used professionals, Sinclair. Instead, you went the cheap route…family friends and a local boxer who has a history of being a hot head.”

She heard him exhale loudly on the other end.  “Well, it’s done now. I have another idea
. Forget Saint for a minute, we should focus on Xenia again.”

Oh shit…here we go…

“What is it you want me to do?”

“It’s time for her to be reminded
of who I am, who she and her husband are fuckin’ with!”

Shianne
sighed. “Sinclair, look, I will have to be honest with you. You are in
way
over your head. Just concentrate on getting your business tight again. I’ve got your back. You should just leave them alone at this point. They’ll get theirs.”

“I don’t need advice from a woman
who poses nude in third rate magazines that sell for a dollar down at the liquor store.”

His words
stung, cut her to the quick. He’d never spoken to her like that before. This was a new side to him. He’d always been kind and caring, and she sympathized with him… Maybe she’d underestimated him after all.

“Well, if that is how you feel, Sinclair, I think we should cool it for a
while then.” She didn’t mean it, shit, she had bills to pay, but she had to say
something
. He’d totally thrown her for a loop.

“Shianne, don’t take me for a mothafuckin’, joke.”
He put steel in his voice. “I know where the
fuck
you were last night, you trifling bitch. Has he gone home, yet? You’ll just open your legs for anyone, won’t you?” Sinclair laughed. Shianne’s eyes watered with hot, angry tears. “This is what I get for messin’ with a trick baby. Yeah…you didn’t know I knew about that, did you? You have daddy issues, just like every other black woman walkin’ around here. Don’t take it out on me because you were made in a cheap hotel room for twenty measly dollars.”

The cruelty was so
penetrating, she fumbled, trying to collect her thoughts, trying to figure out what to do or say. “You’re crazy! So now you’ve been checking up on me and following me?” she finally blurted.

“That is the least of your problems. Don’t try to pull the plug on this shit, you are in this,
all
the way in and if you don’t get me what I want, there will be some consequences for you. You’ve already done too much to back out now!”

And he was right.

“What do you want?” she sighed.

“You have a new assignment
when you walk into work on Monday. This is how it’s going to go down…”

~***~

Jagger twirled a black and silver mechanical pencil between his fingers as he observed Saint leaning casually against the vast living room windowsill. Lawrence sprawled lazily across his cream leather couch. A foothill of paperwork covered the coffee table and three empty beer bottles formed a triangle on an end table. Saint briefly looked out the darkened window of Lawrence’s home, while treks of rain spun down in jagged lines and lightning caught the water, making it glow and reflect every now and again. Saint unbuttoned his shirt. A shiny silver medallion gleamed against his chest. Lawrence squirmed about a bit, cleared his throat and sat up, clasping his large hands.

“I knew it was that son of a bitch…” Saint said
in a murmur. He’d filled Jagger and Lawrence in on the whole sordid ordeal, from the first time he saw Sinclair, until the present—that pivotal moment. The asshole was a jackal, the kind that Jagger enjoyed tormenting. This should be a tasty treat. He put his own lust for violence aside and stared at his friend. Saint was hurting. Things had gone too far. The man continued to look out the window. “I had a dream about him the other night. He was just standing there in my foyer, laughing. He is kicking up trouble. Why would he have two guys come after me and that be the end of it? I’m just waiting for the other shoe to fuckin’ drop.” He turned toward Jagger as if he had something to add, but he seemed at a loss for words.

“It didn’t take long.” Jagger looked down at the pencil, stud
ied the tiny straight groves running horizontal along its length. “The trail led right back to him. Of course we cannot legally prove it, he’s known the guys for a long time, but…” Jagger shrugged. “It was a set up. They botched it so there is no doubt he will be back.”

“He would’ve been back anyway.” Saint slid his hands in the pockets of his dark tan pants and
walked away from the window. He sat down on the loveseat and cradled his face with his hands.

Jagger felt sorry for the man. He simply couldn’t catch a break.
Under normal circumstances, Sinclair would have simply been an annoyance—a gnat that won’t die, or a flea that won’t stop nipping behind a dog’s ear—but his hatred for Saint caused him to be a great concern. This wasn’t just an axe to grind; the man had lost his livelihood twice now, due to his connection, unwillingly or not, to Saint Aknaten. No one gets over that sort of thing; there is no business as usual after such an occurrence. Saint also knew that there would be no reasoning with the man. Sinclair had a taste for one thing, and one thing only: Revenge. Saint’s life on a chopping block was what he sought and he wouldn’t stop until that was what he got. He had a reputation for being a go-getter, for being charming and persuasive. He would continue to use those skills to make things unbearable for Saint. He wanted the man to crack, crumble and croak.