Saint's Sacrament - Sins of the Father (83 page)

Bomb got to his feet.

“Saint!” he called out. “Little Pharaoh!”

Saint stopped in his tracks, his back still turned
, and just waited.

“I ain
’t never lost a fight...
never,
and had I not been jonesin’ then speedin’ when you nabbed me, I would’ve beat you down, too! I ain’t never lost a damn fight!” Bomb repeated angrily, his fist balled at his side.

“I know. So don’t let this be the first, because if it is, it will be a TKO and you won’t ever get back up.”

And then he watched him get in the car, and the two men drive away. Bomb stood there for a while, not sure what to do with himself. He looked into the bag to make sure the shit was true, that this wasn’t some crazy dream. It was quite real—everything Saint said was in the bag actually was there, and even more. He let the bag go, the cans clanking together as the fabric slipped from his fingertips. He looked behind him at the torn up school. It looked as if it had been ravished by a tornado, like something big and monstrous in the sky had come down and chewed the fuck out of it and belched out what was left. The days seemed strange to him, blending all together. He looked at himself in a half shattered, dusty window of the building, disgusted with what he saw. He stepped closer and realized, he’d never really looked at himself before, completely, thoroughly. He swallowed and turned away, then opened the pamphlet once again, reading his name in disbelief.

I’ve never lost a fight. I’ve lost some battles, but never a war. I won’t let you down, Little Pharaoh, I promise you, little brother, I won’t fail you…

~***~

Jagger sat on the bed staring at a blank wall. He’d only been home for a few hours, and his time in New York with Saint and his family had been bittersweet. Traci was on her way over and she sounded so excited he was back in town. He’d set the table a million times, not sure if he’d done it quite right. Holding his phone in one hand as he surfed online, he moved a fork from the right to the left, setting it on the folded ebony napkin, making sure it looked just like the picture. He felt like a fish out of water with only one gill, uncomfortable in his own skin. At least the baked chicken and sautéed mixed vegetables turned out well. He wasn’t a great cook, but he did well enough. Saint, as well as his father’s, Mr. Aknaten’s, words played over and over in his head about how to deal with Traci, how to be honest. On one hand, he’d tell himself, ‘I’m a man, I can handle this by myself.’ Then on the other, he felt like having the entire Angel Child family from across the globe come if he could, so they could assist him in unraveling this ball of mess he’d successfully knitted together. There was no rhyme or reason to it, he’d just thrown it together and now, he’d made a complicated situation ten times worse.

He looked around dumbfounded, trying to find his white lighter with the Harley Davidson etched on it. Turning to and fro frantically, he finally got his hands on it. He grinned as he lit the tiny blue candles, thinking about if he had Lawrence’s gifts to change the elements, he wouldn’t need a lighter. The doorbell rang, and that smirk melted right off his clean and fresh face. Jagger marched to the front door, his brown Del Toro’s sinking into the plush beige carpet. He opened the door and couldn’t help but grin. There she stood, her short, straight hair with a blonde streak on the side brushed away from her face, showcasing a set of cheekbones he’d traced with his fingertips many a night. Stepping aside, he pointed the way, as if she were a newcomer.

“Come on in, baby.” He closed and locked the door. Turning back to her, he gave her the once over. Her tight red dress barely covered her ass, and the matching high heels that strapped up her ankle signified she knew exactly what she was doing: inviting the beast in him to want to come out and play. He grabbed her around her waist, pressed his lips firmly into hers and let his hands roam up and down her back. She gave it right back, pushing him into a wall, forcing his cock to salute her as she ran her palms up and down his shirt.

“I missed you so much
,” she said between heavy breaths.

“I missed you
, too.”

She pulled away from him and looked toward the dining room and kitchen. “Did you cook?” she asked inquisitively, her tone laced with a bit of disbelief. “I smell food.” She made her way into the dining room and gasped as she looked around. Soon, Jagger was right behind her, offering her a bouquet of red roses.

“Oh my goodness.” She smiled, showing gorgeous teeth as she placed her hands up to her cheeks. “This is so sweet, Jagger!” She sniffed them, turned and kissed him on the jaw. “Thank you.”

He pulled her chair out and ushered her down into the seat. She must’ve been in some zone because he managed to plate her food up without her saying a word. She sat there
still clutching the bouquet with a silly little grin on her face, as if she were rendered speechless. He wondered just how long that grin would remain after he dropped an unbelievable bit of news at her feet…

~***~

Saint looked around. He’d planned the day just as he wished, but still, nervous butterflies of wonder flirted and nudged one another in the pit of his gut. Since he’d gotten back home, Xenia was cordial, but aloof. She could no longer excuse his absenteeism. Though she knew what he was about, what his life was like, she was tired and he planned to have a talk with her when she got in from work.

He peeked inside the picnic basket he’d prepared and raced around the basement, making sure for the thousandth time everything was just as he wanted it. It took some finagling but he’d managed
, and for the first time in over a year, Saint actually came home early from work. Not only that, he’d prearranged an overnight play date for the children while still in New York and during his wait at the airport, he made a mountain of calls to get everything in order so all he had to do was push ‘Go’ when he arrived back on the premises.

He slumped down on the couch and held an older photo of the two of them. His face split with a sentimental smile. It
had been taken an hour after they’d gotten married, before the children had been born, and they’d only known each other for two weeks. Xenia’s eyes were so bright and full of life, and he feared he was zapping that right out of her. She looked so happy then, so in love. He wanted her to look and feel that way again, and it was up to him to make this right.

He settled and looked down at his chest
; his cream colored shirt was partially unbuttoned. He could feel his heartbeat going crazy, just like it did when they had their very first date—as if he was living it all over again. Getting to his feet, he made sure the flowers were out, though he’d already checked just five minutes before. Slipping shaky fingers through his hair, he started to pace and then, he heard the garage door.

Shit man, are you sweating?

He swallowed and looked under his arm, sure he was going to see a wet spot. He sighed in relief, but he could feel his temperature rising nevertheless.  Faintly, he could hear his wife’s shoes clicking against the floor. He stared up at the ceiling, as if she’d beam herself down any moment. He walked over to the intercom, and pushed the kitchen speaker.

“Hey
baby.” His voice cracked. He couldn’t believe that shit. “Um, can you come downstairs for a minute.”

“I just got in the house. I have to get dinner ready and—”

“No, I already took care of it. The kids are with your mother and they are staying with her overnight with Gwen and a couple other children. Pam is going to let them help make dinner and she’s got a whole fun night planned for them. They’re really excited.”

He was met with silence.
No doubt she was wracking her brain, trying to figure out what he was up to.

“She has Isis, too?”

“Of course she does.” He chuckled. “She can get in on some of the action. So, come on down.” He stepped away from the intercom and gave another leisurely glance around the rooms. After a few moments, he heard the basement door open. He slinked his hands into his pockets and briefly closed his eyes, saying a silent prayer.

One step…two steps…three…

She made her way down. His eyes were still closed, he didn’t dare open them, but he heard her gasp then scream out. Composing himself, he approached her, taking her hands into his. He looked into her eyes, though she seemed to find it hard to focus. She was overwhelmed; he could see it so clearly.

“Baby, this is a re
-creation of our first date, where it all began. This was a time when I was pursuing you and didn’t let anything get in my way. I want to pursue you again, make it up to you.” He swallowed, closed his eyes and hated himself for tearing up. He began to walk, taking her along with him. In the middle of the floor was a black blanket. The picnic basket was there, along with filled wine glasses. An entire spread of fruit, shrimp scampi and assorted cheeses was presented.

Xenia kept staring in the corner of the room
at a small, three horse merry-go-round, featuring a black stallion with tassels and mane, just like the one she’d ridden the night he made her his own. Before he could say another word, she buried her head in his chest, cloaking the sides of her face with her hands. He felt the wetness, and gently rubbed her back as her shoulders heaved up and down. He never meant to make her cry.

He brought her closer and they sat down on the blanket
, him cross-legged before her. The experience made him far more emotional than he’d imagined. He figured, initially, it would just be a nice, romantic gesture, but it signified so much more. He took her hand and caressed it. Looking down at his lap, he searched for the right words.

“Xenia,
I want to tell you how sorry I am about being so neglectful to you. I just don’t know what I could have done to make it better, but I should have found a way. I told you you’d get more time with me, but that didn’t happen. That makes me a liar. I shouldn’t have promised something I couldn’t stick by.”

She grimaced and looked away, her eyes filled with hurt.

“You know who I am. You know what I do and what I’m about, but you are busy, too. Whenever I need you, you’re there. You can’t say the same about me, and that’s not right. You are the most important person in my life, and I need to act like it. After the car accident, I think I was in so much shock, it hurt so much, that…” He paused, trying to catch his breath. “I buried myself even more in my work. It was a really odd reaction, but, I think I understand it now. I realized I’m weak when it comes to you. I can’t deal with losing you, so, I didn’t want to think about it anymore. Instead, I felt like, ‘Okay, well, she’s safe now and I’m going to take care of Sinclair and everything else.’ But, your heart wasn’t safe. I need you to know that—”

“Saint, may I say something please?” Xenia slid her hand away from his, picked up her wine glass and took a plentiful sip.

“Yeah…” He looked at her curiously.

“Look. I know who I’m married to. You are completely right about that. I don’t want you to
ever
be sorry for doing what you were put on this Earth to do. Look, I’m going to get angry sometimes, okay? That’s alright.” She smiled sweetly and ran her fingers along his cheek. “I was mad, but I got over it. I can’t stay mad at you long because I love you, and contrary to what you are saying right now, it’s not true. You didn’t do anything wrong. Yeah, you promised me more time, it didn’t happen, but I knew it eventually would. I’m human, baby,” she said woefully. “What that means is your wife is going to get miffed and jealous and not want to share you with the world sometimes. But, I’m also your best friend and your biggest fan, so what that means, baby…” She leaned over and gave him a sweet peck on the lips. “What that means is I am still in your corner and have your back. Don’t you ever forget that.” Her eyes narrowed. “You spent all this time thinking you had to make something up to me… No, you didn’t, Saint. I’m in love with you, and the time we have together is precious, but others need you too, and I get that. It’s just hard sometimes, but we’ll be okay.”

Saint sighed and smiled. He had no idea what he’d done to get so lucky to have a woman like this.

“Now, as far as the car accident is concerned, yeah, you buried yourself in your work, but you were harassing me every five minutes to see how I felt!”

They both laughed.

“Every time I turned around, you were asking how I was doing and did I need anything, when it was
you
who were in terrible pain. I love the mess out of you, boy! And don’t you ever forget it!”

Unable to resist, he caught her in his arms and
placed a big kiss on her, running his hands up and down her back fast, then slower as he regained his composure. She squirmed and giggled then surrendered to his embrace. After a few moments, they pulled away from one another, both quite reflective.

“I thought, you know—”

“Saint.” Xenia shook her head and hand at him. “Don’t. We both know you are about to apologize again.”

He looked away from her, grinning.

“The reason why I’ve been so quiet is because I’ve got a lot on my mind. It had nothing to do with you staying in New York longer to help Bomb. I have a lot of guilt right now, Saint.” She took another sip of her wine. He joined her, grabbing his own glass.

“About what?”

“Our lives are a disaster because of me.”

“Xenia, baby, what are you talking about?”

She sighed and plopped the glass back down, her face a mixture of anger and annoyance. “Sinclair’s ass…that was my doing. He is my ex, after all. Shianne, that was my assistant. All of this shit links right back to my ass!” She threw her hands in the air in frustration.

“Xenia, that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard you say. First of all,
Sinclair was after me because of some shit years ago, just like I told you. So regardless of you and him at one time dating, this really didn’t have a whole lot to do with you. Secondly, his ass hired Shianne, not you. You just did what you typically do, be nice to the people around you, and you took a special interest in her ’cause she’s a young, black woman out here trying to make it. Now yeah, you should have listened to me, but it isn’t your fault she is the type of person that she is. You did the right thing by her; she is the one that is fucked up, not you. Don’t do that to yourself, that’s not fair.” He shook his head, frowning. “And you didn’t even know Sinclair was working there. This all happened after the fact and I’m the one that convinced you stay with the show, so just kill that noise.” He smiled at her, leaned in and affectionately kissed the bridge of her nose.

“Now, let’s get into this food. I’m starving.” He grinned as he popped the light brown wicker basket open, taking out thin, hand-drawn white plates and silver utensils.
She kept her gaze on him, and it egged him on as he felt his face blush with warmth. Just like old times.

Soon, they were eating and joking with one another. She told him all about her day, and he lit up
when he saw the excitement in her shining eyes. They flirted with one another, as if they’d just met. He found it endearing and it moved his soul. They’d gently touch one another, a gentle stroke here, a tender kiss there. Soon, they moved significantly physically closer, sitting almost on top of each other. Looking totally relaxed, she popped lobster spread on crackers into her mouth and chewed on it with a satisfied moan. He hitched his hands behind her neck and looked down into her eyes. Without another moment to spare, he pressed his lips to hers, thrust his tongue into her mouth and unhurriedly kissed her, his craving and thirst for her reaching new heights. He tasted her then pulled away, looked into her eyes once more as if to see if this was real, then returned the same intensity upon her lips as he ran his hand up and down her back. He carefully glided her down onto the blanket, running his fingers through her soft hair.