Saved and SAINTified (69 page)

“Dad, I’ll see you when you get here. I gotta go
...”

H
e looked at her with hooded eyes as he hit ‘END’ on his cellphone. No words were needed. She’d heard enough. He rushed to her as she slumped to the ground and sighed loudly, trembling with premature grief, screaming as fresh tears flowed down her satiny brown cheeks.

****

The next day...

Saint
came out of Beset’s guestroom, crossed the house, and set a hammer and nails down haphazardly in the garage. He sighed, then reentered the kitchen where he sat, pulled Xenia to him, and held her. She buried her head in his shoulder as she clutched their daughter tightly. Neither of them said a word as a dense and somber mood swirled around them. Nearby, Lawrence rubbed his head anxiously while Jagger sat on the couch, his legs sprawled and his jaw twitching. Beset sat across from them on the loveseat, patting her thighs nervously. The boys played, running back and forth, giggling, none the wiser as to why they were woken up early from their slumber and given a large breakfast and plentiful hugs and kisses from their father.

Soon Saint’s
father knocked at the front door. Two Knights stood beside him as they all waited, after calling Saint to let him know they were approaching the door. Jagger rose from his seat and made his way over. Saint watched from afar, clinging tightly to his Goddess and Princess as the cool early morning air poured in.

Osaze Aknaten
stepped inside and set his luggage down by the front door. The silence remained, growing thicker. Xenia glanced over at her father-in-law, her eyes swollen and red. Saint glimpsed down at her, hating himself for having to leave her. He knew her thoughts and feelings, and it was tearing him apart. She had no more tears in her at this point. The well had run dry. The unbelievable pain and worry she was experiencing had shut her system down, rendering her temporarily emotionless, just so she could simply catch her breath and recuperate, only to start all over again in the coming hours.

And he felt all of it.

Saint could look inside his father, too. Their eyes met and he read him as if he were the daily newspaper. The old man clasped his large, aging hands together and surveyed the room with a naked scowl—filled to the brim with unmistakable resentment with a dash of helplessness. Palpable, his father’s turmoil and mixed emotions rolled through the space like a wild trade wind.

Saint
rose slowly from his resting position, gently moving Xenia and his daughter. Two men stood stubbornly face to face.

“I do not approve,
Saint.”

“I know. I don’t need your approval, however. I know what’s best for my family. I’m glad you’re here
, regardless.”

His father sighed
but did not back down. Tension brewed; their golden eyes glowed.

“He wants to make an example out of you
, and he will tear you inside out.”

“You have little faith in me. Luckily, I believe enough in myself that I’m okay with
this.” Saint looked over his shoulder, to see his wife listening intently to every word spoken between him and the man that brought him into the world. “I know that this time, it’s not because you think I’m stupid, or foolish; it’s because you don’t want anything to happen to me. I’m telling you, like I told that woman.” He turned and pointed at Xenia. “That
woman
is my whole life! My world! You think I like this, huh?!” Saint’s voice escalated as he began to unravel and lose his cool. He told himself he wouldn’t let this happen. “You think I like seeing her like this—what I’m forced to make her feel, to go through?”

His f
ather gritted his teeth, apparently holding back what he really wanted to say.

“Like I told my Queen, my Goddess, my life sits right there on that couch!”
Saint’s voice quaked. “I’m tellin’ you like I told her. I’m ... coming ... back! I’m not repeating the shit again. I can show you better than tell you. Now, stay here and help look after my family. Look over
your
family, Dad.”

His father nodded
and Saint returned to Xenia. He took Isis out of her arms and kissed her several times on her cheek as he cradled her against him. He looked at her closely, their glowing eyes catching one another.

I know you can’t understand what I’m about to say to you, baby girl, but I’m saying it anyway because somewhere inside of you
, you’ll get what I’m saying—on a soul connection level. Now look, Daddy has to go away, to make sure you stay safe and happy … you, your mommy and brothers. I’ll be back though. I promise. I need you to believe in me, Isis...

He
kissed the newborn once again and handed her to Beset after he noticed Xenia quake like a leaf, her expression a mixture of worry and resentment.

Beset
cradled the baby in her arms.

“
Saint, per our discussion, everything will be taken care of,” she assured.

Saint
nodded in understanding then sat back down next to Xenia. “Hassani! Dakarai! Come in the living room please,” he called out.

Soon, the two boys entered, holding electronic games in their small hands.

“Come here.” They walked over to him. Saint grabbed both of them and held them so tightly, Dakarai began to squirm in his grip as he kissed the top of little boy’s head.

“Daddy! Can’t breeeeaaaaath
e!”

Saint
quickly released him, and kissed his cheek again. Suddenly, he felt Dakarai digging into him, trying desperately to get past the blockage, to see what this was all about. He was young, but he was no fool.

He’s gotten stronger
. Just that fast, his abilities are growing. Deaf mute in stealth mode again...

He then turned to Hassani
, whose dark brown gaze shot into Saint’s soul. The little boy no longer smiled; instead he flinched, his body seeming to revert. He pulled away from him, his eyes glossing over.

“What is it, Hassani?”
Saint asked quietly, bringing him back to him.

Hassani hesitated, then climbed on
Saint’s lap and cupped a hand around his ear. “Daddy, I’ll watch over Mommy,” he whispered. “You’re real worried, Daddy. Where are you going?”

Saint
closed his eyes, pulled his son’s head to his face and sighed loudly. “I have to take a business trip, Hassani. Thank you for watching over your mommy for me while I’m gone.”

“I’ll watch over
Mommy, too,” Dakarai piped up, pivoting up and down on his tippy toes.

Saint
smiled weakly and ran his fingers through his hair. “Thank you, Dakarai. I love you and Hassani very much.”

With difficulty, he let them go
and made his way to his car, to drive to the airport. He refused all efforts to be dropped off; he wanted as much control over the situation and timing as possible. But emotional pain threatened to derail his resolve when he heard Xenia racing toward him. He kept his back turned, for his eyes brimmed with tears, but she forced him to her and threw herself in his arms, her body shivering—unraveling. He squeezed her to him, inhaled her essence one more time.

“I walked away, baby, because I’m not saying goodbye to you
... I refuse to.” He buried his face in her hair. “I’ll see you soon...”

H
e raised his head, grabbed her by the back of her hair and pressed his lips firmly to hers, lifting her off her feet with the intensity of it. Wiping the tears from her face, he backed slowly away, and blew her one last sweet kiss.

Saint fisted his pants as sweat beads formed around his brow. Sitting in first class had never been so uncomfortable in all of his life. He was admitting to himself, in the comfort of his own private thoughts, that he was now officially afraid. He wasn’t afraid of fighting and he wasn’t afraid of dying. He was afraid of leaving his family to grieve him, just in case things did not go the way he’d planned. His medicine was no longer available—Xenia’s body. His craving for intimacy right at that moment was purely for strength. He needed to feel her, and his thoughts repeatedly ping-ponged between panic and pussy.

Goddamn you,
Nizsm! Yeah, I’m coming. I’m coming for your ass!

He gritted his teeth angrily and downed another glass of wine as if it were sparkling water.

Mama, what am I going to do if this gets botched? I know I have your blessing, I can feel it. What will happen to my Queen and my three babies? They need me, and I need them. What will happen to the Rainbeau Knights? There is a lot at stake. I could never tell them what I’m feeling right now, Mama. It would only make it worse. But what can I do? This has to be done. I can’t run away or hide my family. They deserve to live their lives out in the open. Isis has a right to be here! She was planned, conceived, born, and now she needs protection. I will protect her. I’m her father! Who lets their daughter get murdered?! Who allows a tormentor to come for his family? Not me! Mama, please! Please help me...

He quickly wiped his eye
s with the back of his hand and pushed his head into the headrest, tossing and turning as if he were having a nightmare, only he was fully aware that the nightmare was quite real. He closed his eyes. Soon, he could smell Xenia’s signature perfume, as if she were truly sitting there. He swallowed, gasping for shallow air as he moved around in his seat, feeling her near him. Then, his eyes sprang open and he looked around the plane. The sight of people distracted by their computers or fast asleep relaxed him. He grabbed his cellphone and walked into the lavatory.

****

Closing the door behind himself, he ran his hand roughly over his jaw, now brandishing a five o’clock shadow. Leaning against the wall, he quietly dialed his wife. As he suspected, the phone barely rang once before he heard her voice.

“
Saint!” she said in a panicky tone.

“Yeah, baby,” he
said softly, the phone full of static and cracking. “I need you to do me a favor.”

“Where are you? What’s going on?”

“I’m on the plane, baby. I’m not supposed to be on the phone—I’m sure you know that ... I need some help here...”

“Yes, what do you need me to do
, baby?”

“I need to try something with you
. Where are you in our house right now?”

“I just finished nursing
Isis and put her in the nursery. Beset is in there with her now.”

“Are you on your way to our bedroom?”

“Yes, I was just going to try to get some sleep but I know I can’t sleep ... not with you away, not with me being worried sick like this.”

I’m sorry
, baby . Never meant to cause you any pain. This is how it has to be though.

“
Can you go in there and lock the door behind yourself? I’ll wait.”

“
...Okay.” He waited until she did as he instructed.

“I need you to now
get undressed and lie down in the bed. I also need to hang up soon. The phone won’t work for this anyway.”

“What?
Saint, what is this about?”

“
Xenia, baby, I don’t have time to explain in detail, but I need to try something, here. I’m low on energy; I need to fuel up. I need to feel you, so I can get my strength back up. We didn’t have time to make love. After my dad called, well, that kind of stopped all of that and I didn’t even think about it with everything that happened right afterward. Just be open to me. I need to be able to read you; just do what I ask please.”

“Okay
... yes, of course. I—I love you.”

“I love you
, too. Are you in the bed?” he whispered.

“Yes,
getting there. I’m taking my robe off, too.”

“Okay, I’m hanging up now.”

He closed the phone and sat on the closed toilet seat, waiting for her energy to change. He concentrated, straining so hard, the veins in his forehead and neck protruded. It hurt. His mind and psychic telephone line were working overtime. He didn’t expect it to be so unbelievably painful.

Damn, this is not a good sexual experience!
He grimaced. He tried harder, knowing that, if he could just refuel, he’d be better off. Nothing could replace sex with a soulmate; it was exactly what he needed. Suddenly, his efforts came into focus. He could see his bedroom clearly, at that very moment. Xenia’s hair was wrapped neatly under a blue scarf and her naked body lay perfectly still atop the white silk sheets. He surveyed her from top to bottom then stood, removing all of his clothing in the small bathroom before sitting back down, his body slightly chilled. Closing his eyes and bracing himself, he placed his hand over his heart, trying desperately to communicate with her.

Xenia
.
He focused ... no response. 

Xenia
, baby.
Still no response.

“Fuck!” He hit the wall, pressing harder onto his chest.