Saved and SAINTified (68 page)

“Oh shit! If I didn’t see this for my damn self, I wouldn’t even think it was true. You really
do
have an ass a mothafucka could bounce a goddamn quarter off of. This is fuckin’ insane!”

He
shook more loose change in the palm of his hand as if he needed to pay a parking meter. She rolled her eyes and continued to prepare her side of the bed.

He pulled
at his pajama pants as his erection struggled against the confining fabric. “You gonna let me slide up in that tonight? Let me hit?” He winked at her when she looked over at him with a glare.

“You couldn’t wait to get
Isis out of our bedroom. As soon as the six week mark passed, you...”

She stopped mid-sentence
when Saint stood, picked out her panties from the top of the laundry hamper and inhaled the scent. “Mmmm,
shiiiiiit
. Gimme some of that pussy, baby.”

“You are so damn nasty,
Saint.” Embarrassment colored her face.

She
slid under the sheets. He snatched the lingerie away from his face, flung it back in the hamper and joined her, nestling close to her ear.

Sounding much like
Sesame Street’s ‘Cookie Monster’, he yelled, “Me want cookie! Let me munch on your cookie ... yom yom yom yom!” Saint teased.

But she ignored him.
“Come on, baby,” he said huskily in her ear. “Let me suck on ya pussy ’til your damn forehead caves in.”

Xenia
rolled in his grasp, her legs and arms flailing as she made half-hearted attempts to escape his romantic endeavors.

“You are so stupid!”
She could barely catch her breath as she reeled around in the tangle of sheets.

Saint glided his large hand between her warm thighs, cupping her wet vessel, making her slow and coo. He pressed his pelvis firmly into her back and slicked his fingers up and down her pussy lips, opening her up. Laying his leg over hers, he pinned her on her side as he sucked and kissed her soft shoulder.

“Mmmm,”
Xenia moaned.

“The pussy is getting wetter
...” His lips curled around her earlobe, sucking it. “The pussy is callin’ my name...”

“
Saint, I wanted to take a quick nap before I got dinner on, and you’ve messed up my plans.”

“
Woman, this is all your fault.”

“How do you figure?”

“You’re a tease. You oiled yourself real slow in front of me, you flirted with me, bounced your ass around as you tucked the sheets, you toyed with me. You can’t play like that, baby...” His grin widened. “You gotta pay up now, sweetness. Time to pay the piper ... gonna give you some pipe, alright.”

He peered over her shoulder, getting a charge out of the broad smile on her beautiful face.
Then, he pushed his finger deep inside of her, making her moan and rotate harder on his thrusting hand. The sounds of her pussy, gushing with wetness as he continued to finger screw her, excited him to the utmost.

“You know what I was thinking about at work today?”

“What?”

“About getting some dome.”

She burst out laughing, causing her ass to back into his groin. He immediately slid his finger out of her, held her hip and brought her flush against him, grinding hard against her slick body.

“I have to cook dinner and the kids are waiting. Just give me the dick.” She smiled naughtily at him over her shoulder.

“Just give you the dick, huh?” he repeated, enjoying what she said immensely.

She nodded. “I’m ready
. Come get some.”

“You want some of this dick, huh? Just fuck tha foreplay
,” he said gruffly in her ear as he ran the hard head of his cock roughly up and down the small of her back.

“We can do that later, come on
... I said it, now give it to me,” she whispered, still grinning—but the arousal clear in her voice.

“Forget the dome. Forget cookie monster. I got it. Let’s just get to the main course, shit
.”

Turning
her over, he slid his tongue inside of her mouth and let his hands urgently roam her body. A sweet sigh escaped her lips when he crudely reached between their bodies and grabbed his thick, throbbing shaft. Their eyes met, and he pushed deep within her. She screamed out.

“Ahhh
...” Saint thrust over and over, his eyes shut, letting sensation rule. “Mmmm, baby.”

H
e kissed her again, his pelvis darting back and forth as he gave their lovemaking his all. His narrow hips contracted with each hard pump. He raced toward a goal under a tight deadline. Then, his cellphone rang on his nightstand. Ignoring it, he continued to propel judiciously inside of his Queen. The cellphone rang again, the ringtone all too familiar.

“Shit! Goddamn it!” he yelled angrily, punching the
headboard. “Bad fucking timing!”

“
Saint, calm down.” Xenia stopped moving her hips as he rose. He looked over at the electronic bane of his existence, the revulsion for it overwhelming as he nonverbally cursed it to hell. “Just answer it, honey. I’ll be right here.”

Saint
looked down at her, pulled out and rolled over to his side of the bed in frustration. He grabbed the phone and sat up, running his fingers through his dark hair.

“Yes, Dad
.” He sighed.

“Oh,
Saint? You sound upset, are you okay?” his father asked.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. What’s up?”
He blew out air and closed his eyes. Xenia sat up and began to slide off the bed. Just then, he caught her arm and whispered,

“Hey! Wait a minute. I’m not finished with you. Where do you think you’re goin’?”
His eyebrows dipped, and anxiousness coated his tone like a thin layer of paint.

“To the bathroom! If that’s all right with you, Mr.
Jail-Keeper?” she jibed.

Pulling
away from his grip, she sauntered off, closing the door behind her. Saint turned his attention back to his father.

“Is this a bad time,
Saint? You seem preoccupied.”

“Dad, this is your bedtime. The fact that you’re calling me
now
means something is up so go ahead and tell me.”

His father sighed
. “Okay, Saint. I’m just going to cut to the chase. Nizsm called me. He wants to do the transition with you.”

Saint
laughed angrily. “Bullshit. No he doesn’t.”

“I know
, but that is what he is saying, and you know that it—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know about the rules
—the karmic repercussions if I don’t.  Goddamn it!” Saint gripped the phone tighter, his heart rate increased as he felt his blood pressure soar and a headache grip him. “He is
really
playing dirty. He is desperate.”

“Of course he is. Don’t go,
Saint. Let me speak to the board and...”

“No. The board is afraid of him, too. No one has any clout. He does what he damn well pleases and if anyone says shit, they get fucked up or worse, murdered. I have to meet with him, Dad.”

There was silence. “Saint, he is planning to kill you. Do you understand what is going on here? You’re acting invincible again! I’ve warned you against this behavior!”

Saint
felt like a teenager again, with his furious father pointing a finger in his face, trying to break his teen self down in their apartment in Brooklyn. “Nizsm is
very
dangerous. Look son, fighting an Angel Child is against the rules unless it is in self-defense. I didn’t expect Nizsm to adhere to this, but I can’t watch you collect that karmic debt. He will not be open and allow a read, either. Furthermore, he will try to drain you, like a battery. The damage could be irreparable, even if you somehow survived. Please ... please don’t do this, Saint.”

He could
now hear the worry in the old man’s voice. It cut Saint to the core. His father was drowning in sadness right at that very moment, an emotion disguised as antagonism.

“Please don’t
,” the older man urged again, the anger and wretchedness cocktail seeping into his tone even further. “I know what he’ll do to you! We have to end this; we have to find a way to stop him, but not this way, Saint.”

“What do you mean, drain my energy?” All he cared about was clarification. Any tricks that may be pulled, he wanted to know about it well in advance.

He heard his father exhale. “Nizsm knows that if he combines his energy with yours, he is sure of victory. If you go to him, he may find a way to restrain you, put his hand over your heart, and bleed you dry. You will lose everything. Then, once he has incapacitated you, he will kill you on the spot! You won’t have time to recharge, so he can take full advantage. Please Saint! I’m begging you!”

“Dad
, there
is
no other way. And really, it is probably best this way. I can turn this to my advantage. I can’t risk him coming here. He thinks having me on his turf gives him the gain and protects him. It doesn’t. The only reason I can’t chance him coming here is that then he’d have access to Xenia and my children. He won’t give a shit about wiping them out; matter of fact, he’d be happy about it.”

“Well what are you planning to do, son?”

An ironic laugh escaped his lips. “Well shit,” Saint said nonchalantly. “I’m going to have to kill the son of a bitch.”

More
silence.

“I need to come with you.”

“Like hell you are. What I
do
want you to do, however, is come out here before I leave, and stay in the house with Xenia. I need an army around her and the kids, people I can trust.”

Saint
racked his brain and sprung out of the bed. He barreled toward his closet, turned on the light, and watched as Xenia’s dress shirts and accessories spun around, all sorted by color, like a blurred rainbow, the purple shades taking the longest. He stopped the display once his shirts and pants came into view. “I have to pack. I need to get Lawrence and Jagger over here, too. I will need to enlighten Beset, see what she can do to help. The security system is amped. The kids and Xenia
cannot
leave the house until I get back. Make sure she doesn’t even go the guest house—can’t risk her being out in the open. I need you on the—”

“
Saint...”

“I need you on the first flight out here! Dad,”
Saint clutched the phone as sweat trickled down the side of his face. His heart throbbed inside of him. “I have to do this! I refuse to be a sitting duck for my family. We knew that this was coming, we knew it was! There is no need for anyone to act surprised.”

“There has to be
another
way ... I can’t lose you!” his father’s voice cracked, his bravado slipping down a slope of slippery regret.

“And you won’t. What happened to having what I need, when I need it?”

“You’re still a man! Angel Children die every day. More importantly, you’re my child. My only son, all that’s left of Min Jae, and damn it, Saint, you’re the best part of me. I love you. I just got you back; we finally have a
real
relationship. I can’t lose you again!”

Saint
felt like he’d been stomped in the gut. His father was never frail, weak or afraid and now, after the visit to his mother’s gravesite and this, he saw the man unraveling like never before. This new vulnerability made Saint uncomfortable. He didn’t know who this man was. It was the father he’d always prayed for. He’d wanted to see the beating heart behind the iron robot, and now here it was, beating like a drum yet tormented and falling to pieces right in front of his very soul, springs, bolts and all—and he couldn’t handle it.

“I’m coming back. Do you hear me?!”
Saint yelled, slamming the closet door shut behind him. “I need you to be positive. You’re doing it again, not giving me the support I need.”

“You and your damned ego! I didn’t want to call you
. I
knew
you’d say all of this, Saint, but I had to. It was my duty.  You can’t do this to me, to Xenia. You can’t risk your life like this. This can’t be happening...” His voice trailed off.

“I’m risking my family’s life if I stay! Can’t you see? I’m doing this
for
you, not
to
you! This is for you my Goddess and my babies! What kind of man am I to not do the right thing?! To hide out like a damn coward? He made his move, so now it’s showtime!”

Saint
grabbed his black luggage carrier, flung it open and began to place items inside. He ignored his typical O.C.D. to arrange everything neatly. Heading to the other side of the closet, he grabbed his passport from a small dresser drawer. Just then, the closet door slowly opened. Xenia stood there, distress all over her face. She ran her fingers through her flexi-rodded curls and leaned against the edge of the door. Her sadness swam toward him and grabbed him by his heart, drowning him whole.