Saint's Sacrament - Sins of the Father (98 page)

BOOK: Saint's Sacrament - Sins of the Father
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“Let me let you in on a little secret. I don’t work for a bank.” Saint burst out laughing. He pointed to Jagger and Lawrence. “These two fine gentlemen have a vested interest in being here tonight because you almost destroyed their livelihood, too. You see, that’s no bank, Sinclair—we took great effort in that detail. It’s a mothafuckin’ brotherhood, man.” Saint crossed his arms over his chest. “We are the mothafuckin’ Rainbeau Knights of the Round Table.”

The three of them said the chant unison:

“We seek to protect, never neglect, make her laugh and never forget—even if we just met.

We are the Rainbeau Knights, and we love the black Queen.

For her, we will do anything. And before we plant seed inside of her, she gets a diamond ring.

We are the Rainbeau Knights, our enemies are never prepared
,

We wear fine suits and pleasant smiles.

But we are a racist’s worst nightmare.

We are the Rainbeau Knights, and we are always ready for battle, traveling the world with
steel armor and sword.

Between the black woman’s legs and ears, and inside of her heart, is where we seek our reward.

Shalom, Blessed.” They put their hands over their hearts and looked to the ground. “And done with expert finesse.”

After they were finished Saint leapt up and down laughing, geeked off their sing-song.

“That shit is so fly! I never get tired of hearing it, man! That shit is cold!” Lawrence nodded. He’d written the new oath each new Rainbeau recited at graduation.

Saint drew serious, as if a switch had suddenly been flicked on his emotional switchboard. He yanked the chain again, causing Sinclair to ring out in bloody pain.

“Ahhhhhhhhhh!”

Lawrence
raised his arms in the air, as if he were looking to pray to the sun and the moon. He closed his eyes, and his hair swayed as the room drew colder and colder. The chains began to slowly sway, clanking into one another, wrapping themselves around Sinclair like tentacle legs, squeezing him hard, then harder.

“Oh my Goooooood! Ahhhhhhhh! Make it stoooooop!!!!”

Jagger glanced over at Saint, winked and cracked his knuckles. Then, in a flash, he was scaling the wall like a huge black spider. Sinclair looked as if he was going to pass out. Soon, Jagger was on the ceiling looking down at him, his eyes glowing bright orange. Saint twirled his fingers, causing the rag to fall the rest of the way out of Sinclair’s mouth. He wanted to hear the son of a bitch clearly. His terrified voice was music to Saint’s ears.

“Ahhhhhhhh! What tha fuck! Pleeaaaaaase don’t hurt meeeee!” Jagger grabbed the top of one chain and wrapped it around the man’s neck, causing him to gasp and choke, his body turned pale as he struggled for breath. Jagger
finally released his deadly grip and calmly scaled back down the wall, joining his crew.

“You like that, huh?” He looked up at Sinclair and grinned. “Look at all this fine entertainment we are giving you tonight, man? Even on your judgment night, we want to make sure you’re enjoying yourself. S
ee? We aren’t so bad after all!”

Saint pointed to the envelope of money now in Jagger’s jacket pocket. “Thanks for giving Jagger my money back, man. That was awfully nice of you. Now, you may be wondering, why in the hell would this man do this to me, when he still need
s me to call the police and IRS and get him out of this hot water?” Saint smiled. “You thought you could do anything you wanted to me tonight and have me in your pocket, because I needed you to help me and just maybe, I’d have hope you’d change your mind. I’m not Payton or Shianne, Sinclair. You aren’t going to hold some shit over my head and finesse things in a way that turn me into your flunky, man. You see, I always have a back-up plan to all my back-up plans, because there aren’t too many people I can trust. I’m sure you understand that. It just so happens that someone is slated to release that news in the next few hours, or her fate will be similar to yours, and she knows this. You see, Sinclair, it’s all about self preservation!” Saint lifted his arms and spun around as if he were standing on top of a mountain. “She will tell the damned truth, and if she doesn’t, I can still make her talk and sing like a bird because I’ve got her on camera confessing the shit. You know why? Payton has always felt she was invincible and smarter than everyone else.

“The problem is, she actually
is
smarter than other people in general, but
not
smarter than me. If she hadn’t fallen for my plan, I had another plan, and another one after that. I never come half assed. Payton is easy to read. She still thinks she is in love with me, so it wasn’t difficult to sit her ass down. She resisted a bit, but she did what I said because now, not only is she still in love with me, or thinks she is, because that’s not real love…she is also deathly afraid of me. You mix those two together, and you have complete control over a woman like her. Payton only respects men she is afraid of. All other bastards with a dick must pay for her Daddy issues and you were one of many. You can’t blackmail a woman like Payton if she doesn’t love you, man.

“You lost! Guess what she had planned for you before I came into the picture? I hope you didn’t think she was going to let your ass off the hook. You know all those connections you have? Well, I told you the woman is smart, damn smart, and she found out you have a bit of a cocaine habit. Yes
siiiiiiir!” Saint laughed, holding his belly. “She knew who your dealer was and everything. The woman even had it down to a science, your buying times and other details and she was going to make sure you were arrested with a kilo. Now why the hell would you have a kilo of coke if you weren’t a drug dealer?”

Saint looked at Jagger and Lawrence,
who smiled and nodded.

“Because of these connections she has, it was going to be planted in your home. Then the police would be called and bam!” Saint clapped his hands,
the sound echoing loud and commanding. “Your ass would be doing another bid, this one much longer. Isn’t that something? My dude over here found out that little tidbit for me.” He pointed to Jagger. “He’s good at that shit, extracting information from folks. He’s like the damn CIA and FBI, it’s an amazing talent. Well.” Saint looked at his watch. “We better get finished up. These two need a few hours’ shut eye before work tonight and I kinda wanted to get my groove on before sunrise with my beautiful wife, so let’s wrap this up.”

Saint marched over to a black duffle bag hidden in a far right corner, unzipped it and removed a Desert Eagle MK XIX hand-canon and a pair of gloves. He smiled as he leisurely slid them
on, as if he were a church usher about to pass out the new choir rehearsal schedules. He made his way back to Sinclair and glared up at him. Sinclair bucked around once again and Saint could see tears in the fool’s eyes. “Lawrence, be a dear and unwrap our human cigar, please.”

Lawrence proceeded to take the chains off of Sinclair’s
legs while the man wept like a baby.

“Oh, don’t cry now—come on, Sinclair! Die like a man!” That intensified Sinclair’s struggling and before he could kick himself to imaginary freedom, Saint yanked all four chains at once, tearing and ripping the man’s flesh to ribbons as he descended toward him at lightning speed. Jagger disappeared and returned with a large hose
. He sprayed the man down, causing more yelling from the half-dead entity. Blood ran down every inch of Sinclair’s body as he slumped to his knees, barely able to move or keep his eyes open.

“We are washing you down for better disposal of your body, you see. It’s just how we Angel Children show a little respect for the deceased. If at all possible, we cleanse a body before discarding it. Jagger is just doing this in advance to save us a bit of time and clean up. Besides, no one wants your piss all over them.”

Saint knelt down before the man and looked the bastard in his face. “Eye for an eye!”

Then h
is eyes burned sooty black from corner to corner, causing Sinclair to scream out in horror.

“I have no eyes now!” Saint laughed, imagining he looked much like a reptile. “But I can still see you, mothafucka!” His voice
turned gravelly and echoed, as if five men were speaking at the same time. It sounded damn near demonic, but was nothing of the sort.  Saint punched him in the eye so hard, it disengaged from the socket, causing Sinclair to scream out in ear-splitting pain.

“Tooth for a tooth!” Saint roughly reached into his mouth, and plucked out a tooth from the gum line, causing blood to squirt in all directions. Sinclair writhed about, screaming obscenities and bleeding all over himself. “Am I still fuckin’ up the rotation, Sinclair?” Saint looked at the tooth in his hand and placed it gently behind him. Sinclair had practically swallowed his own tongue by this point as he thrashed around in excruciating pain.

All three men kneeled in front of the man, while Saint gently lifted Sinclair’s chin, as if he were a young child that had fallen off his bike and skinned his knee. All of their eyes glowed like burning jewels. Sinclair’s remaining eye widened in fear.

“Mmmm hmmmm, you see, we aren’t average mothafuckas. You came to the wrong corral to play cowboy, man.” They got back to their feet. Saint turned on a dime, swiftly grabbed the gun out of his back pocket and put the nozzle to Sinclair’s forehead.

“It’s time to go. I’ve got no further use for you. No hard feelings…”

BAM!

 

~***~

 

Xenia waited in her foyer as if she were a guest
in her own house. Her father had finally called her, claiming to want to see his grandchildren. It had been two days, and she eagerly made her trek to the front door after hearing the sweet melody of the doorbell chime. She opened it, and there Henry stood, dressed in fine threads from head to toe. He looked like an old school playa clad in a white fedora, white shirt as smooth as butter and matching white pants and shoes. His brown skin glowed in contrast. He stepped inside, handing Xenia a bouquet of white roses to match his apparent angelic mood. He looked around as if he was simply supposed to be there. Xenia took the flowers and held her head high as she closed and locked the door behind him.

“Awww, Daddy, you shouldn’t have
,” she crooned, a big grin on her face.

“Oh yes
, I should’ve. Beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman!” He stepped farther into the domed entranceway, the chandelier shining down upon him, making him glow as his feet tapped and echoed against the marble floor. He spun around in a circle. “Where are my boys? Where’s my granddaughter? The cute little Princess?”

Xenia kept her smile tight and high as she moved her long green maxi dress to one side and glided past him. “They’ll be here soon. I’m going to put these in the kitchen; I’ll be right back. Please, have a seat. May I get you something to drink?”

“Yes! Do you have any alcohol? I haven’t had a good mixed drink in weeks!”

Xenia tilted her head slightly to the left and smiled at him as if he were a little boy selling magazines…and wolf tickets.

“Sure, Daddy. I can mix you up something. What’s your fancy?”

“Rum
’nd coke, please. I’m easy.”

And greasy…

Xenia nodded and returned in a few minutes with his cold drink. She sat across from the man, watching him polish it off.

“I haven’t heard from you in a
while, Daddy.”

He nodded. “Yes, I know
, baby girl. I didn’t want to trouble you. I didn’t want you worried,” he said with a chuckle. “I’ve been in and out of the hospital. It’s this ol’ ticker again. Been having heart pain. Thank you for the health insurance offer. I’ll take you up on that but these new medical bills and the medicine they want me to take is so expensive, Xenia! But, damn. I’ll find a way.” He crossed his legs and leaned back on the white sofa. If it weren’t for his mahogany skin, he would have been barely noticeable.

There was a bit of a pause. The man’s lips twitched, and then he started up again.

“It’s tough getting old, I tell ya. Hashimo and Daymar have it easy!”

“…Hassani and Dakarai
,” Xenia corrected grimly.

“Oh! I’m sorry,
baby girl. Those names are a bit unusual, still trying to get the pronunciation right.”

Xenia
waved him off. “Oh, no problem, Daddy. Yes, they are unusual names, but they have beautiful meanings.” She waited to see if he’d inquire. He didn’t.

“But yeah
.” He rolled the glass around in his hand, causing the last slithers of ice to roll about. “It ain’t easy getting up in age. We’re never promised tomorrow. We could be here today and gone tomorrow. Gotta do the best we can to stay afloat.”

“Yeah, we do…”

He leaned forward, appearing itchy, as if he wanted to jump out of his own skin. Placing the empty glass down, his eyes darted from right to left. “Where are the children?”

“Daddy, they aren’t here.” Xenia looked up from her lap and stared at him. “And they won’t be here for quite some time.”

“Oh.” He offered an uncomfortable grin. “Well, uh, I can come back later.” He got to his feet, seemingly getting a taste that something unsavory was cooking. Maybe it was the mischievous gleam in her eye, maybe it was her posture or maybe it was the fact that she was now biting into her bottom lip and nodding her head as if all the pressure inside of her would pour forth in some horrible, ugly way. She rose to her feet and leisurely straightened her dress.

BOOK: Saint's Sacrament - Sins of the Father
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