Saint And Sinners (98 page)

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Authors: Tiana Laveen

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Saint And Sinners
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“We’ll pull
together
! Three!”

The shot rang out, piercing the tortured soul’s fleshy body. Saint snatched the gun
from Xenia’s hands and tossed it towards Lawrence who caught it in midair.

“Ahhhhhh! Ahhhhh!” Zoo wailed, pressing his hand over his heart that now bled out
onto his shirt, exposed by his unzipped leather coat.

Quickly, Saint seized the knife from Jagger’s hand, raced towards the falling man
whose expression lit up with a crooked smile as his life force slowly dissipated…
until he saw Saint drop to his knees beside him.

“No…noooo!” the man gurgled.

Saint cradled his head like a baby’s, and looked down into his eyes as he punctured
his corpulent neck with the tip of the blade. He could see his own image now bouncing
from the dagger to the man’s eyes in a dull reflection, and Saint was going to make
damn sure that his face would remain with Zoo all throughout his hellacious eternity
of drudgery.

“Jagger, turn Xenia away!”

The man immediately seized his wife by the shoulders and forced her head into his
chest, cradling her dark hair with his big palm while Saint had his way with the wretched
man.

“Tu autem ibis ad inferos! Et erit servus!” Saint yelled. (You will go to Hell! You
will be a slave!)

Zoo’s eyes turned ghostly white and he struggled to speak, but only gloppy blood dripped
from between his wide, frog-like lips. He waited a second or two, until he could feel
the man’s life force cease due to his gun wound, and then quickly finished the deed
on the twenty-first second.

“Yes…” Saint sneered as he finished carving into the man’s flesh. “And so it was written,
and now it is done! Hand me the garbage bag, Lawrence.” He pointed towards his friend,
waving the bloodied knife in his direction. The man did as asked, and only the sound
of fast movement amongst ruffled plastic could cover Xenia’s cries.

Lawrence dropped to his knees and helped Saint cover the heavy body with a thick tarp.
“You’re takin’ his body where we agreed, right?”

“Yes. I’ll take care of it in two hours. I have to perform the final ritual. Demon
Children have to be…”—he tossed Xenia a cautious look—“…handled how we discussed.”

“Of course. Jagger, are you going with him? I have one final stop to make and I wondered
if you could take my wife home, please.”

Xenia kept her back turned towards him, her shoulders moving up and down as she sobbed
in Jagger’s chest. The reality and severity of the situation had now come full circle
to hit her, made her sensibilities twist and turn within her.

“No problem, Boss. I will take Xenia straight home.”

“Xenia, keep your back to me, but I want to say something to you.” He got to his feet
and cleared his throat, feeling Zoo’s blood dripping off of his fingertips. “I want
you to know that I pulled the trigger, baby. I know this was distressing all the same,
but I took care of it, okay? There is no blood on your hands. Just mine.”

“Saint…we did it t
ogether
. Just like you said. Thank you though for what you did. You don’t have to sugarcoat
it to make me feel better,” she stated in a muffled voice as she continued to cling
to Jagger, balling up his jacket in her palms. Jagger ran his hand up and down her
back, comforting her.

“Yes, we
both
did…” Saint looked down at his feet and sighed. “Xenia, I promise you, I will ensure
you are never in a position like this again. Go home, wait for me. I’ll be there soon.
I need to take care of something first and you can’t come with me. Are you going to
be okay in the meantime?”

“Yes. I’m just glad it’s over.” She seemed to calm, but kept her back turned, surely
not wanting to see what he’d done.

“Okay, Lawrence, talk to you in a bit. Jagger, see you back at the house.”

Saint got to his feet and watched briefly as they spread apart, going to their respective
destinations. Then, he hightailed it to his car, anger burning through his veins like
fresh gasoline. Snatching the car door almost off the hinges, he plopped inside of
it, tossed the black, plastic bag over on the passenger’s side floor and started the
damn thing up.

Must be an early Christmas! I feel like Santa Claus delivering presents!

*

Koki glanced at
his clock and blinked several times. For the first evening in a while, he was chilling
on a Friday night. His crew was out conducting their typical mayhem while he relaxed
after a fulfilling afternoon of torment. A slew of empty wine bottles spread around
him like sunrays, reflecting light from the nearby candles, twinkling as if lifted
and gifted with crushed cries of fallen stars. A dreamlike, surreal scene, and the
sweet scent of freshly plucked pussy filled his nostrils as he rose, happy to see
the woman in question had left as he’d requested. Then, he heard it again…

“Damn, it wasn’t a dream… Who the hell is that at my door?”

He got to his feet and slid on a pair of jeans that lay haphazardly at the foot of
the bed. On his way out of the room, he paused and sniffed the air. He sneered, double
backed in lightning flash speed and grabbed his gun, stuffing it in the back of his
pants. Making his way to his front door, he stopped there, his eyes turned pure white.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

“Who is it?!”

“You know who the
fuck
this is… That’s why it took you so long. Now open the goddamn door.”

Koki chewed his inner jaw, gripped his gun and removed the locks on the damn thing,
revealing Saint. The tall, golden skinned man stood there wearing fresh sweat around
his brow and a smirk. He leaned against his doorframe while casually holding some
plastic sack that swung back and forth from his loose grasp like a pendulum.

“You gonna invite me in or what? Your hospitality is pretty fucked up.”

“What business do we have right now, Saint?” Koki asked gruffly, still not fully alert
but struggling to become so due to the dire situation before him.

Grinning, Saint lowered his head, scratched the bridge of his nose and crossed his
ankles, as if he’d just happened in town and stopped by for a cup of cocoa. It chafed
his fucking nerves.


Our
business is ongoing, Koki. Now, we hadn’t discussed the parameters, because things
have a way of…” Saint looked off to the far left, as if summoning the right words,
“…happening. I have something for ya.” He handed him the sack. Koki hesitated then
wearily extended his arm, taking the bag into his grip. It was heavy and uneven, and
a strange warmth emitted from it. “Go on, look inside… I bet when you see it, your
head is gonna roll!” Saint’s grin grew disgustingly larger as he laughed at his quip,
apparently feeling rather witty.

Untying the knot in the thing, he opened it and looked inside, catching his reflection
in the dead man’s eyes. Koki swallowed down his reaction, borrowing all of his reserve
to keep a semblance of peace, and delicately closed the bag back up, securing it just
so.

“I see what you’ve done, and this means the rules have changed.” Koki gently set the
bag beside him onto the floor, and directed his attention back towards Saint.

“I don’t play by your rules, Koki. I play by my
own
. The day you sent that mothafucka to mess with me and mine is the day all bets were
off. You aren’t runnin’
shit
in my world.”

Koki grinned, looked down at the bag then back at Saint.

“You killed Zoo, the curse is lifted…you should be happy, correct?”

“Nope. Not by a long shot.”

“And why not?” Koki smirked. “You won, right? You even figured out you needed to behead
him within a certain time frame to eliminate his promotion possibility. That’s a centuries
old secret that no Angel Child knows…until now. I wonder how you found out? Was it
a creepy lookin’ half Angel, half Demon Child possibly whispering in your ear?” Koki’s
eyes turned coal black as he took satisfaction in the thought of killing Cruz for
his betrayal.

“I didn’t win shit…but I will.” Saint’s eyes turned bright red, like freshly drawn
blood, as he pumped his finger in Koki’s face. “And don’t you worry about Cruz. He
is the least of your problems. The day you messed with where I rest my dick is the
day your life
officially
ended. You just didn’t know it had. You’ve caused all sorts of pandemonium and chaos,
but you already know that. Now, I like to play somewhat fair in all this fuckin’ dirtiness,
so tomorrow night, you and I will be gettin’ it in. That’s it. It’s a wrap. You did
what you did and now…well, I’m going to do, what I’m going to do.”

Koki sucked his teeth and nodded as he contemplated how to play his next move. “You
do realize, that ridiculous group of fucked-in-the-head idiots that were waiting for
your arrival will be wiped out as soon as I say motherfuckin’ go.” He laughed. “Why
would you sacrifice them, hmmm?” Koki threw up his hands and chuckled. “That’s not
very Angel Child-like of you. Besides, you know they’d never do the same for you,
come up against me. You left New York for some pussy, man.” He shook his head. “Don’t
try to roll back in here and stake claim, man. You got your pussy back, now be happy
about it and trust me, the next thing I do to you will be far worse. It doesn’t even
have to be this way. Shit, I understand you being a bit pissed off, but hey, you killed
my main man, you got your woman back and for the most part, I’ve stayed out of your
way. Don’t make me have to kill more people, Saint. That would be such a pity and
really…if I do, it will be all your fault.”

“Name the place, and I’ll be there…” Saint ignored him, not taking the bait as he
gripped a cigar, lit it, and blew smoke in his face.

Koki grinned and moved his bare foot to and fro across the softness of the white rug.

“The Brooklyn Bridge. Tomorrow. Three in the morning. That’s the witching hour.”

“Leave it to you to pick a place such as that. But!” Saint’s brow rose as he grinned
and pointed to the man, the cigar tip barbed in his direction. “I’m not one to say
no to a reasonable challenge, Koki. Brooklyn Bridge it is.”

“Oh and Saint, leave your guard dogs behind… You know, Tonto and Goliath. It’s just
one against one for this undertaking.”

“Absolutely. No problem.” Saint traced a silver medallion wrapped around his neck,
then pulled out his dark sunglasses and placed them on his face. “I have a request;
no actually, it is a
demand
of my own. I’m going home as I’m sure you already suspected and if you do
anything
, and I mean anything, to intervene, I will give you what you came here for.” He tapped
ashes onto Koki’s head as if he were a human ashtray but Koki didn’t feel one damn
thing as he swiped the embers away. “If you send anyone, even whisper a plan inside
that skull of yours to try and circumvent what I want under my own roof, I will toss
all the bylaws aside and gut you from your fuckin’ feet to the top of that silly face
of yours in three seconds flat—and not give one single
fuck
about it.” Even through the sunglasses, he could see the man’s eyes turning bright
red, almost blinding him. Saint bit into his bottom lip so deeply, it almost bled
as the two stared darts into one another.

“Do something, mothafucka.” Saint’s upper lip lifted in a sneer. “I
want
you to…”

“Saint, let me ask you something. Do you like art?” Koki burst out laughing. “That
was a close call, huh?” He giggled.

“I
love
art, Koki, and I will enjoy the beautiful, artistic designs your stinking blood makes
when I squeeze you like a damn grape with my bare hands.”

Koki’s smile faded, though he tried to hide his growing annoyance with the man.

“One more carrier pigeon, one more
sneaky
transaction, and you will not die fighting, Koki, as you planned. You will croak
in the most dishonorable of ways. It will be your bequest. The choice is yours. And
as for me? You need not worry about Lawrence and Jagger jumping in to get a lick or
two. Besides,” he shrugged and leaned in close to him, his warm breath tickling his
flesh, “I want you
all
to myself.” Saint smirked and straightened his jacket, pulling at the black, leather
sleeves. Then he tossed his head to the side, causing his tresses in the front to
fall in front of his eyes.

“So be it…”

“And so let it be…”

Then, Saint turned his back and walked away, like his cock was a gun barrel and he
was fucking untouchable. Koki laughed lightly and closed and locked the door, then
shot a glance at Zoo’s severed head, neatly tucked away in the plastic bag. He picked
it up and walked into his living room, lighting the fireplace with his eyes. Reopening
the sack, he gripped the head by the black, silky hair at the crown. Zoo’s mouth was
still slightly ajar, and dried blood lined the corners. Koki looked into the eyes,
and saw the terror the man experienced during his last seconds.

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