When Saint Goes Marching In (5 page)

Payton propped his car door open, blocking him from closing it with her narrow hip and thigh.

Saint sighed. “Let me close my door, please. I really need to get home. You are boring the shit of out me.” He put both of his legs inside but Payton didn’t budge. “Payton, don’t make me remove you. You know I don’t want to have to do that,” Saint warned.

Payton smiled. “Oh yes, you do. You liked roughing me up.”

“No,
you
liked being roughed up,” Saint smirked. “Just because I
am
a dominator, as you pointed out, doesn’t mean I enjoy hurting people.”

“Oh please! You love to beat up some pussy,” Payton spewed.

“You’re sick,” Saint laughed. “I never wanted to inflict pain on you, I don’t get anything from that, that’s something
you
wanted and you know when it comes to sex, I aim to please. There’s a difference. I only gave you what you asked me for. You insisted that I do those things, no matter how many alternatives I gave you. You made me reassemble your insides when it was your soul that needed to be revamped. You need agony. The only way you feel alive is if you’re in pain. We went over this in your therapy sessions. You associate pain with love. You have issues, Ms. Smith.” Saint shook his head as he stood back up.

“You’re a punisher. I just let you be yourself,” she remarked, this time her tone calm and subdued. She ran her fingers through his hair.

Saint gave her an icy glare. “Don’t touch me again. This is my last time telling you. My hair, my body, all of me belongs to someone else now, respect that.”

Payton rolled her eyes.

 “Payton, I’m not the same man anymore. I just wanted to make you happy, that’s what turned
me
on, that I was making you happy, or so I thought. I wasn’t really making you happy though, no one can make you happy. I have what makes
me
happy now though, for a change. She is everything I need and want, and then some. You could never compete with her. She’s good for me, she’s like vitamin C and you’re like kryptonite. I didn’t need someone weak, I needed someone
real
and spiritually healthy, who accepted me for me, not the
idea
of me and loved me anyway. She is me, and I am her. There is no competition.” His eyes narrowed on Payton. “You could never compete with her, on your best day.”

Payton rolled her eyes again. “A tiger never changes his stripes, you’re an animal, remember?” she laughed.

“OK,” he sighed. “You obviously need to get some things off your chest but let me just explain something to you since you’re just not getting it, obviously. You and I,” he said, as he darted his finger back and forth between them, “we never made love, we only fucked. I needed more than that.” He placed his hand gently on his chest. “And that wasn’t our only problem, our personalities didn’t mesh and frankly, you’re just not Queen material, at least not for me. You don’t have a clue as to what love even is really. You thought you loved me, but you really didn’t. My life now is just a competition for you, you said so yourself a little while ago. You want to compare who is prettier, smarter, who can fuck the best,” Saint said as he opened a finger for each item listed, counting her insecurities.

“You still just don’t get it. My love isn’t up for grabs. My love isn’t a game or prize to be won,” he continued, emphasizing each word passionately. “You loved the danger in me. You loved my body and the things I could do to you sexually. You were addicted to the sex, not me. You loved that I
didn’t
love you, Payton, not in the way that a man should, anyway. I wasn’t in love with you. I never was and you knew it. You only want the men that don’t want you back. Men throw themselves at you.” He regarded her in disgust. “I was the only one that didn’t chase you.” He pointed his hand to his chest then toward her. “And that turned you on, but it turned me
off
. I told you a long time ago that men are hunters. If I’m not hunting you, my heart isn’t in it, and it never was.” With that, he hoped that he had made his point clear and plain. “I guess this talk was overdue, Payton. I see you have some unresolved feelings toward me. I did care about you though.” He shrugged, spent from a conversation that he never thought he’d have.

“You have a hell of a way of showing it. Tell me, I really want to know Saint. What voodoo did she put on you? How did she get you to commit?” Payton put her hand on her hip and grimaced.

 Saint smiled. “None, being herself is the voodoo. I committed to her willingly. She didn’t have to do or say anything, but be herself. I chased
her
, she didn’t chase me. I hunted her, as it is supposed to be. She makes me feel things that no one else did, or could. I have to have her. As soon as I saw her for the first time, I knew I had to have her all to myself. We have that sort of connection, something you’d know nothing about. That is how she makes me feel. Each time feels like the first time. She got it like that.” Saint smiled. “Yeah, I was a slut. You keep bringing up my past. I do love to fuck and I’m damn good at it, but I also love to make love, and with her, I can actually do both. She’s not a one trick pony. Our love is passionate and continuously growing. It never gets old. I can never get enough of her. She is in my system. She is my air, my blood, she is my everything!” Thoughts of Xenia made Saint pause. He knew how he felt about her but speaking the words aloud to someone else made him emotional. “I can’t even totally explain it but I just know that neither you nor anyone else could
ever
be her. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going home to my beautiful Queen and my two bright and handsome Princes. Payton, get some help. I’m no longer your dick layer and slayer nor your counselor; you’ll need to seek someone else,” he finished, sincerely wishing the best for her. “I have a Queen and her crown isn’t up for grabs.”

Saint returned to the driver’s seat, tugged the door from her grip and closed it. He turned on his music; Mac Miller rapped “Unfaithful” as he put his car in reverse. Payton continued to stand there and watch him drive away until he was a tiny spec a quarter of a mile down the street. She turned her left knee slightly inward as a solitary tear ran down her dark, satiny face.

* * *

CHAPTER TWO

Several weeks later…

Saint stormed in the house and removed his sunglasses from the top of his head.

“Crazy ass day.” He said out loud as he moved across the shiny, white marble floor.

“Shit!” he yelled as he almost slipped on one of Hassani’s toys. “Hassani! Come here, please.”

Soon he heard the pounding of two tiny feet charging from the playroom. Saint smiled as his four and half year old son darted towards him, his long, caramel legs like a blur as his arms extended outward. Thick, black swirls of hair bounced with each gallop as he made it to his finish line. Saint whisked him up in the air, spun him around and kissed him on his cheek.

“Daddy’s home!” Hassani smiled widely.

“Yes I am. Now, what have I told you about leaving your toys everywhere, prince? Daddy almost got hurt. Do you want Daddy to get hurt?” Saint asked in a soft tone.

Hassani shook his head vigorously. ‘No.’

“OK, well, Daddy can get hurt and fall down if you do this. Also, the toy could be broken and then you’d never get to play with it again. Let’s get your toys up, OK?”

Saint lowered Hassani back down to the ground. The boy picked up the toy and held it up to Saint.

“I got it. Better now, Daddy?” he asked, his big dark brown eyes shining brightly.

“Yes, much better,” Saint smiled. “Where’s Mommy and Dakarai at?” he asked as he walked towards the kitchen.

“Mommy is giving Dakarai a bath. He poured flour all over himself.”

Hassani was now playing with the tiny red car that almost caused Saint to lose his balance. Saint looked at his son and burst out laughing as he flipped through the mail on the counter.

 “You did that once, only it was sugar. You made a sticky mess.”

“No I didn’t, Daddy!” Hassani twisted around, his little green shorts bunched up as he contorted his body.

“Yes you did!” Saint laughed. “Your Mommy laughed and said you were super sweet.”

Hassani giggled.

 “Let’s go upstairs.” Saint picked up his son and looked at him closely as he carried him to the grand staircase. He couldn’t get over how much Hassani looked more and more like him, as each day passed. It was like looking into a mirror. Xenia had compared their baby photos, and besides the aged appearance of Saint’s pictures and their eye color, you would’ve thought it was the same child.

It’s amazing how egotistical God lets us be
, Saint thought.
He allows us to create small versions of ourselves, to admire and look at all day. Is this what Christians mean when they say God made us in his image? I don’t believe so, but how uncanny that only half of him has my DNA, yet my genes for his physical appearance took over almost completely
.

Saint was mesmerized by this fact as he continued to scan over his son with each upward step. Saint smiled as he approached the upstairs and heard Xenia singing the theme to Sesame Street. He walked into the large hall bathroom and saw Dakarai bouncing up and down in the big bath full of sudsy water with assorted colorful bath toys floating about. Xenia, not noticing him, kneeled at the tub, her hair wrapped in a green silk scarf, large gold hoop earrings dangling from her ears, her face natural and clean, eyelashes batting as she grinned with each lyric that ran off her tongue from between her soft, full lips. Dakarai’s straight black hair was slicked back from the water. His big hazel eyes, like his father’s, were joyous as he anticipated the next word Xenia would sing. He bobbed up and down in the water, happily, as he began to splash about.

Xenia
put up her hands.

“Dakarai!” she laughed. “Stop splashing me! Oh my goodness. Giving you a bath is always an adventure.” Dakarai continued to pummel her with flying water, saturating her long, black sundress. Xenia stood up, her small, soft bare feet planted firmly as she reached over to massage more shampoo in Dakarai’s hair.

“Mommy!” Hassani yelled out, startling her.

Xenia
jumped, put her hand up to her chest and closed her eyes. “Oh my God, y’all scared me! I didn’t even hear you come in,” Xenia smiled. Saint walked closer to her and kissed her cheek. He looked down at her dreamily, moving his lips to hers as he closed his eyes and kissed her softly over and over.

“Oh no,” Hassani said. He dropped his car on the floor to put his hands over his mouth. “You kissed!” he giggled uncontrollably.

“Yup, Daddy kissed Mommy,” Saint smiled as he put Hassani down. Saint always wanted his children to see what he saw growing up, ample affection between him and his Goddess so that they, too, would know what love looks like.

“Daddy!” Dakarai yelled out as he splashed about in the water.

“Dakarai, I heard you tried to make a cake but you were the main ingredient, is that true?” Saint laughed.

Xenia
nodded. “All you could see were his eyes blinking,” she laughed. “He was quiet as a mouse. Saint, even his eyelashes were covered. I had just opened the bag. He grabbed it down from the counter as soon as I went over to the refrigerator to get the milk out and he poured it all over himself. He didn’t say one word.” Xenia laughed harder. “I closed…” she held her stomach as she doubled over, laughing hysterically and gasping for air. “I closed the refrigerator door and looked over and saw Casper the ghost standing there, looking absolutely ridiculous. All you could see…all you could see…were his eyes…blinking. He didn’t say not one word! I think he was in shock!” Xenia was now leaning to the side, laughing so much that tears welled up in her eyes.

Saint burst out laughing and looked at Dakarai. “You are the messiest kid I’ve ever known. I take that back, Hassani is, but you come a close second. Did you help Mommy clean up?” he asked.