Saint's Sacrament - Sins of the Father (63 page)

“Well, it seems
—”

“I heard.” Jagger chuckled. “I can take care of everyone’s flights. Isis gets to fly for free. Lucky girl.” He laughed.

Saint smiled. “Thanks, man. Hey, let me call Lawrence right quick and get some advice since I am getting ready to do back-to-back healings. I may need some special preparation before I go. I don’t want to get winded like I did in years past, before I knew better.”

“Definitely. I’m sure there is something he can do for you. See you tomorrow and
tell Xenia to not worry, I’ll take care of it. I’ll send you the flight information for the fam in a few minutes.”

“Alright, thanks. See you tomorrow.”

Saint disconnected the call and got ready to call Lawrence. Pausing, he ran his hand across his forehead in frustration.

The Queen has spoken…

~***~

“Go on, now.” Xenia ushered Saint down into the warm water of the large basin in
the master suite bathroom. The children had begrudgingly settled down for their afternoon naps, and she took the opportunity to shower Saint with affection. He straightened his long legs, disappearing into the sudsy waters, full of fragrant, white bubbles. The jets murmured and the delightful jazzy hum of Dave Brubeck’s ‘Take Five’ played while she gathered her lover’s shampoo, the soft, hand-made minty soap he adored, and various lotions. She knelt before him, and motioned him to lean back. He relaxed, his arms hanging off the sides of the tub. His sparkling, golden eyes hooded until they were completely closed. She took a small, white-lipped container and poured water over his hair, saturating every piece before running her fingers through the silky mass of pitch-black strands. She loved touching her husband’s hair. It felt like silk and satin and all the soft, luxurious things that one would want against their skin.

Taking a dollop of the aromatic shampoo, she
rubbed it between her palms, warming it, then massaged his scalp and pulled lightly at his hair, her fingertips working hard, but gently. He moaned, his voice low and throaty, and his lips curved in a slight smile. She completed the task then rinsed his hair, using one of her hands as a barrier to protect his sensitive eyes. His prominent Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.

“Feels good…” he
murmured, his body appearing to fall under even deeper relaxation.

Next she picked up a sponge and starting from his neck, caressed him all over, running soap
on every inch of his body. She took her time, even going over his fingers and feet, making sure that each stroke, each touch, was done lovingly and proficiently, her true expression of how much she adored this man. She leaned forward, coaxed his legs upward to clean them and kissed his kneecaps, causing him to grin. He was ticklish there, but she couldn’t resist. She got to her feet, grabbed her facial cleanser from her side of the bathroom and glided back over to him. Falling to her knees, she poured some of the grapefruit cleanser in her hand, then went over his face, massaging it in small circles. Her fingertips worked diligently over his prominent cheeks and jawbones. His face was so hard, so unlike a woman’s. She found it enchanting and though she’d seen him practically every day for so many years, she still got high off of his masculinity. The only thing feminine about his face was those damned eyelashes. Long, jet black, and thick—to be truly envied. As she stared at his closed eyes, he cracked a smile.

Damn him. He can still see me…

She smiled back and gently rinsed the cleanser off his face. Sitting back on her knees, she stared at him. He gradually opened his eyes and glanced at her lazily, and reached for her hand.

“This was very nice of you, baby. Thank you.”

She nodded, but remained quiet as she scooted away on her knees toward his feet. Lifting them out of the water, she kissed the top of them, her eyes filling with thoughtful, happy tears. She continued to kiss them, down to his long toes, then paused to look into his eyes as she planted a firm kiss on his ankle. His face tightened and then, she saw it—the vulnerability, the tear streaking down his face, his body trembling with her touch.

She kissed his feet
again, her hair becoming wet as she continued on in her worship of him, but she didn’t care. She loved him so much, it hurt…but love isn’t supposed to hurt. Loving the
wrong
person does, and at that thought, she smiled because in the end she’d opened her heart to the right man. He was her blessing, God’s gift to her, sent to change her life forever. If he ever stopped loving her, she just didn’t know what she’d do but she knew in her heart, he never would, because he’d said it—but more importantly, his actions proved it time and time again…

~***~

“Yes, they were back. Seized more records while you were away.” Jagger huffed as he stomped by Saint’s side. They’d just landed in New York at LaGuardia airport. As they approached luggage claims, he felt himself getting warm all over. The IRS had been crawling all over their Rainbeau Knight lair like roaches on a sandwich left unattended at a deli. He knew to keep his cool, though it was hard. They were being investigated, a full audit was underway, and people were losing sleep. There was a fine line, a breach of trust that could only be narrowly escaped. If it was discovered what they were really up to as an organization, they may not be in trouble for tax fraud, but bigger problems would come their way. There was an intricate privacy system in place. It involved multiple passwords, codes, and fingerprints to even get past the first phase. It had been created by a technological wizard of sorts, a former hard-core gamer and financial system hacker, now a reformed Rainbeau Knight who was notorious for being so good at being so bad. Upon his hiring, Lawrence jumped in and tweaked the system, and even the most sly and proficient would have a hard time deciphering it.

Saint grabbed Xenia and the children’
s bags from the claims area. Nearby, Isis twirled around her mother’s legs in excitement. Dakarai was just as giddy, jumping up and down and bringing attention to himself as if he’d never been out in public before. The boy’s notorious gravelly voice was loud as he talked over the noise of passersby.

“Fun! Dat plane was so big
, Mommy!” The boy stretched out his arms, trying to mimic the size.

“Did you see all the other ones, Mommy? There was one even bigger than the one we was on.” Dakarai asked excitedly, unable to curb his enthusiasm.

Xenia nodded in agreement with Dakarai, a proud smile on her face. The boy bounced around, his ponytail bouncing with him. He’d gotten a new haircut, with his sides faded. He’d received it only one day prior after much begging and pleading. Saint gave in, and let him keep his long hair in the back. He had to admit, the boy did look pretty damn good like that. It fit his personality.

“Be quiet, Day-Day. It ain
’t like Mommy ain’t never seen an airplane before, dang!” Hassani crossed his arms, a scowl on his reddened face. Much to their surprise, Hassani didn’t want to go to New York, though he’d talked about going since he was told that was where his father was from. Only one thing could suck the joy out of such an occasion, and it had to do with his little heart, full of big love. The little peanut butter colored girl was having a birthday party at school, and he was going to miss it. That irked him to the core, made him say mean and harsh things that cost him dessert and sent him away early to his room the evening before. In the morning, he was still behaving like a beast and received a spanking, something that was rarely done in the Aknaten household. Saint hated that sort of thing. He remembered all too well his father laying hands on him time and time again, when he was simply too small and afraid to defend himself. He remembered how strong his father was, those fists landing across his gut, the hard slaps across the face, burning his cheek and jaw. And then the nasty words, the disgust in his father’s golden eyes. He’d seen Saint as a wild, little knuckle-headed tyrant who was always fighting and getting in trouble. A kid that simply wouldn’t do right.

That experience made him vow to never hit his child
ren, no matter what they’d done. However, Xenia had a different set of rules. It was the only thing they disagreed upon when it came to the upbringing of their children but once he saw Hassani toss a big rugged toy truck at Dakarai’s head that morning in a fit of anger and missed, hitting Isis instead…that was it. He’d made the poor girl wail out in pain and in that moment, all bets were off. His ass got tore up and Daddy was the administrator. Nuff said.

Saint took a moment to stare at his wife as he waited for his bag. He was still in awe at how one could barely tell anything had happened to her at all. The arm sling came off two days after they got back home. The bloody scratches were gone, the bruises healed, and her sight still fine. All that remained was the thigh scar, but fading rapidly with time.

Once he spotted his bag, he grabbed it, waved Xenia over and they went out the airport doors, piling in two cabs behind one another. Xenia stayed in one with the children, and Jagger and Saint took the other. The two vehicles rallied right behind one another most of the way in the busy rush hour traffic. On the way, Jagger filled him in on details from work that he’d missed while he was away. It was agreed upon that as soon as they set foot back in L.A., Jagger and Lawrence would get to the bottom of the IRS situation and once Saint was fully recovered from the healing over his father, he would join in and they’d take care of business. He was at his wit’s end, tired of being fucked with, however, he did notice that ever since Krishna had gotten a hold of him, he maintained a new sense of peace.

Minutes
later, both cabs pulled up to the Waldolf Astoria, in Queens. Saint paid the drivers handsomely while the cabbies helped with their luggage and the well-dressed bellhops came out to greet them, smiles on their faces.

“Daddy!” Dakarai grabbed his father’s hand as
one of the cabbies helped load bags onto the carrier.

“What baby?” He let it slip again. Like Hassani, Dakarai had taken a shining to not being called ‘baby’ anymore. This time
though, Dakarai let it go…because he wanted something no doubt.

“Can I get my ear pierced?” H
e pointed to a tall, dark-skinned man, dressed to kill, getting in a bright gold Lexus behind them. The smooth cat gave a friendly wave and nod to Saint, his left ear glowing with a diamond stud.

“Like that cat over there?”

“He ain’t a cat, daddy. Dat’s a man!”

Saint burst out laughing and waited for the cabbie to close the trunk of the car before sliding him a
n extra tip for moving so fast yet not risking their lives.

“I’m so tired of you and Hassani saying ‘ain
’t’ all the time. Is that what all the kids say or something? Anyway…we call each other cats around here, it’s just a figure of speech. Didn’t you just beg your Mama and me for that grown man haircut? You look like you are supposed to be with the NFL. You don’t need an earring, too,” Saint teased as they made their way inside the hotel.

“But Corey next door gotta earring and he only five!” Dakarai put up five fingers, in case his father wasn’t sure what that number was.

Saint smirked and checked everyone in. Jagger lingered behind. Saint could feel his friend’s eyes on him, studying him, studying his family, especially Dakarai—the deaf mute and sneaky family clown.

“Mr. Aknaten, here are two keys for each room. Please enjoy your stay at the Waldolf Astoria.”

“Thank you.” He looked back at Xenia who was busy wiping something off of Isis’ cheek. Hassani stood beside her, still distressed and wearing a tight frown as if he were getting paid for it.

“Boy, get over here!” Saint
roared as he pointed to the floor in front of him. His brows dipped when Hassani poked out his lips even further and clomped over, as if he were in charge of stomping mudholes in the damned place. “If you don’t lose that attitude, I will personally get rid of it for you. No one is in the mood for this shit.” The word simply fell out. He was good about not cursing in front of the kids, but with all that was going on, all the trouble and pain they’d endured as a family, he was tired.

“I know that spanking didn’t do any good. I tried to tell your mother that that just doesn’t work on some kids and since you are exactly like me
at your age, I figured it wouldn’t do much but make you really show out. Now look,” he said, his voice softened as he took his son by the arms and looked into his eyes, the same eyes as his mother’s. “Grandpa needs me, you understand? You all had to come because Mommy has been through a lot, and I needed her with me while I take care of some things. You say you’re a big boy, then act like one. Stop pouting. Your little girlfriend will still be there when we get back home.” Saint winked at him and cracked a smile.

Hassani gasped and shot an angry glare at Dakarai.

“I ain’t say nuttin’!” Dakarai declared, his mouth full of pink bubblegum that Jagger had given him while Hassani was being reprimanded.

“He didn’t say one word to me, Hassani. I know
what’s going on with you because I
know
my boy.” He ran his fingers playfully through Hassani’s hair. “You need a haircut, too. Maybe I can take you to a place I used to go to when I was a teenager out here. I wonder if it’s still open…” Hassani smiled up at his father, pushing his head further into his palm. Saint bent down, kissed his forehead and waved toward Xenia as they headed for the elevator doors. Soon they reached their floor. Jagger’s room was two doors down from theirs.