The Naughty Sins Of A Saint (40 page)

“OK, Baby. Just stay up, please. I’ll talk to you soon.” Saint hung up and boarded the plane.

‘I can’t have her freaking out,’ he thought. ‘I can’t tell her what’s going on. I just need to protect her. I can’t trust the fucking police! They’ve shown they don’t give a damn already. All she has is me. I’ve got to get home.’ Saint wiped sweat from his brow.

‘Please let me get there in time, Mom,’ he thought, refusing to allow his fear to grow in the pit of his stomach and derail his focus.

* * *

Saint threw his luggage in the trunk of his car at the airport. For once, the expressway was clear. Being up so early had at least one benefit. He called Xenia, putting her on speakerphone.

“Yes,” she answered. “I knew you’d call back,” she laughed.

Saint smiled. “Of course. I’ll be home soon. Can’t say exactly the time, but it’ll be soon. I love you, Baby,” he said as he sped down the road.

“I love you, too. I got some coffee.” She yawned again.

“Good, see you shortly.” Saint hung up and proceeded. He took notice of the sky, still dark. He chewed nervously on his lip as he fixed his eyes straight ahead. He gripped the leather bound steering wheel and made his way off of the exit ramp in record speed. While waiting at the light, he opened his glove compartment and saw his registered Glock 9mm. He reached into the glove compartment and grabbed it, placing it inside of his jacket as he continued to drive. Praying along the way, he closed his eyes briefly on the familiar approach to his home and took deep breaths. He parked three minutes away, then sprinted until he reached the front gate of his expansive property. Running on pure adrenaline, he slumped in the cool darkness along the side of his house inconspicuously, then waited. It seemed as if an eternity had passed, but he kept his post, waiting for the energy to shift. ‘I know they’re coming. I can feel it,’ he thought as another hour came and went.

‘She’s in the bedroom listening to music. There’s a glow over her face – either the television or her computer,’ Saint thought. He concentrated as hard as he could. His entire body was shaking as he put his hand into the air and turned an imaginary volume dial. Slowly but steadily, the music in Xenia’s ears rose louder, not enough for her to notice but enough to muffle any outside disturbance.

‘Please keep that iPod on,’ he thought as he cowered down, his stomach flush with the lush grass. He watched shadows dance about outside. He rose back up, touching the wall. The coolness seemed to leak into his body, making him feel like stone. In that moment, he could clearly hear a conversation. He tried to gauge its location.

“Their bedroom is upstairs, right here,” a gruff, masculine voice said. “Lance, here, use this.”

“Don’t forget to tear the room up when you get in there,” said another voice. “It has to look like a robbery. And don’t forget his computer. We need it.” Saint moved backwards, staying low to the ground. He looked to his left and saw two men dressed in black from head to toe surveying the house. He stayed to the side of the house. His heart beat boomed out of his chest as he crouched down and waited.

‘Come on – just a few more steps,’ Saint thought as he pulled a small mirror out of his pocket. He heard a 12-gauge shotgun engage. Soon the sound of a revolver followed. He breathed slowly, closed his eyes briefly, then held the mirror tightly in his shaking hand.

‘I can’t let them get in the house,’ he thought. He looked into the mirror, concentrating as hard as he could. He pictured himself over and over again as he sweated, chanting to himself. His fist was balled up so tightly his fingernails left crescent indentations in his palm. He exhaled, almost choking as he breathed out. He used his fingertips to trace his image in the mirror.

“Did you see that?” Lance asked.

“See what?” the other man asked as he wrapped a thick cord around his waist, hooking it in place as he prepared to scale the wall.

“There was a flash from one of the windows. There it is again! Get down from there for a second.”

“I already disabled the alarm. I can get in this door here,” the other man insisted.

“Come down, Ted! Fuck! Something’s going on in there,” Lance yelled. A third man came out of nowhere, walking towards the duo.

“What the hell is taking you two so long? You’re not even in the house yet! You both insisted on doing this yourselves!” The voice was low, and one Saint had heard before. He tried desperately to recall to whom it belonged. He quickly whipped out his cell phone and sent James a text message, then shoved it back into his pocket. Saint’s nostrils flared as he waited impatiently. He closed his eyes again, concentrating as hard as he could, then opening them as he looked in the mirror and silently chanted.

‘Manifest, manifest, manifest.’ Saint blew into the mirror again. ‘Breathe life. Manifest.’ Frigid air bellowed from between his lips. The mirror frosted up, almost cracking.

“Everyone stop!” one of the men said as he fell back. “Something’s in the window looking down at us! It’s moving!” Saint dropped the mirror and held his arms out, causing the image in the window to rise in place. A cold fog formed around the perimeter of the house, moving as if it were alive.

“What the hell is goin’ on? Is somethin’ on fire? Where’s all this goddamn smoke comin’ from? How come it’s cold but there’s hot smoke blowin’?” Lance whispered as he pulled his gun out.

“I’m goin’ back to the car,” the familiar voice said. “Get in there and get out! He may have seen us thanks to you! What the hell’s wrong with you two? We planned this for weeks, and now everything’s fallin’ apart!” The man stormed off. Saint took in his scent.

“The officer.” Saint whispered to himself. “The cop down at the precinct in New York, the one I spoke to. That’s where I know that voice.”

“That’s him! That’s Saint! He’s flyin’ in the air? What the…” Ted stopped scaling the side of the house and looked into the window. He fell clumsily to the ground, dislocating his arm. He stood up. With each step he took, his legs sank into the soil as if it were quicksand.

“Come the hell on!” Lance yelled as he stared wide-eyed at the frosty, glowing, light-blue image in the window. “We gotta go!” Lance’s fears of being caught now seemed to override his desire to commit the crime.

“The ground! I can barely move!” Ted yelled out. Lance looked at him, hesitated then ran off, leaving Ted behind. Ted strained, finally freeing himself.

 The two men ran in Saint’s direction. Saint grabbed Lance by the back of his shirt, slamming his face into the wall, breaking his nose and knocking him unconscious. Ted saw Saint and gave chase, pulling out his gun and aiming.

“Stay back, Saint!” Ted screamed, saliva spewing from his mouth and his eyes glassy with fear.

“Shoot him!” The officer called out from the distance.

In a split second, Saint grabbed the gun and twisted it upward to the sky. Saint pushed him onto the ground, their tussling bodies struggled in dewy grass. Saint covered Ted’s mouth with one hand while he removed the gun with the other.

“We don’t want you waking the neighbors, now do we?” Saint smiled down at Ted. Ted looked up at him through the eye holes in his mask, squirming around frantically as he tried to pull out a second gun. Saint bent Ted’s arm back in a painful pose, lifting him off the ground as Ted cried out. He slammed Ted to the ground, quickly turning him over to face him. The whites of Saint’s eyes turned black.

“You’re breakin’ my fuckin’ arm! You were just… How did you…? You were in the house!” Ted stuttered as his heart skipped beats. He looked into Saint’s eyes and screamed. Saint opened Ted’s jacket, tore his shirt open, and pressed his hand to his heart.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Ted yelled, his face mask now partially pulled up, exposing sweaty brown skin as his thick locks spilled out. Saint pinned him down with his knee as he scanned him.

“This is your life!” Saint yelled as he pushed harder on his heart, forcing the man to see images of his future. “You see that? You’ll be shot dead in less than four months from now. Feel it!” Saint pressed harder, making the man shake and gasp for air. “You’re just a pawn. You’re being used to fight a war you have nothing to do with. It’ll cost you your life, and you’ll have nothing to show for it.” Saint snatched off the face mask, looking deeply into the dark-brown eyes staring up at him in fear. “You’ve been writing me, harassing me, stalking me, calling me,” Saint said in a trembling voice. “You tried to kill my woman. You have no loyalty. You tried to kill a ‘queen,’ a sista. She’s like your sister, your mother, your future daughter. She never did anything to you.” Saint swiftly pulled out his own gun and held it to Ted’s forehead as he stashed the other two guns in the back of his pants. “I should blow you away.” Saint felt his rage eating him up second by second.

“No, no, please!” Ted blubbered. He put his hand up as he begged for his life. “It wasn’t my idea! He wants you gone! I…I tried to warn you – to – get – you to stop! Please!” he pleaded. “Don’t! Please!”

“You made a deal with the devil. All they were doing was using you to get rid of me. You got yourself into this, and now you’re going to pay. You see that fucker passed out over there? He came with you so he could enjoy the show. He was gonna let you do all the grunt work and take the fall if anything went wrong. He wanted to see my blood and my ‘goddess’s’ blood. I’m gonna leave you with my card so you can show your little friends what happens to those who fuck with me and my family.” Saint’s eyes burned with rage, the whites of his eyes changed from black to blood red as he put his gun away and opened his mouth, allowing rings of hot smoke to creep out. Ted’s eyes grew. He attempted to wiggle away, pushing his heels into the dirt. Fear seized him as he watched what seemed like could only happen in a movie. Saint lifted one finger, manipulating the smoke into the shape of a dagger. He pointed to it, and the dagger floated down towards the man’s exposed chest.

“What…what are you doing? What are you?” the man screamed. “What the fuck are you?”

“A man, just a man, Ted,” Saint said.

Saint concentrated. The scorching dagger changed from smoke to metal as Saint directed the tip to cauterize Ted’s skin. Burning flesh permeated the air. Small trails of blood formed on his chest in the form of letters: SECOND CHANCE

Ted screamed again, his eyes rolling in the back of his head as he almost passed out from the extreme pain. Saint stood up, allowing him to run away, knowing he would never be back. Saint’s eyes changed back to normal. Ted held his chest, crying out as he made his way to the get-away car. Saint watched as the cop took out a gun and smacked Ted across the face with it. The driver’s door swung open as the cop made a mad dash towards the house. Saint ducked down, forcing the cop to lose track of him in the thick fog.

“I’ll snap your neck like a chicken’s if you take one more step towards my goddamn house,” Saint whispered into his ear as he grabbed him from behind, holding him tightly around the neck. The cop breathed heavily, looking over his shoulder at Saint as he was dragged toward the backyard near the open pit where the pool was being dug.

“Saint,” the man breathed heavily. “I’m a cop. If you kill me, you’ll be doing a lot of time. Trouble follows you wherever you go,” the man huffed and puffed. Saint turned the cop towards him, staring deeply into his ice blue eyes.

“I almost never walked again because of you. How about some desk duty, Officer Steven Monroe?” Saint took his out his gun and used the cold, hard handle to crack both of officer’s knees as hard as he could, instantly shattering them. The officer cried out, raising his hand upward in agonizing pain. His face turned red as the vein in his neck and forehead bulged.

“Now walk that shit off!” Saint said as he hoisted him in the air, forcing the cop to bear weight on his broken knees. Saint took the car keys out of the officer’s pocket then forced him back to the car, pushing him into the backseat. Ted looked at him from the passenger’s seat while blood seeped from his chest. He looked back at Steve and gasped. Saint smiled and winked at Ted, causing Ted to press his back firmly into the window as panic spread across his face.

“Your new friend is still over there knocked the fuck out. You two stay comfy cozy. I’ll be right back. I wouldn’t want this dynamic trio to be separated. You all have bonded so well.” Saint said, then smiled again and walked away.

As soon as Saint turned his back, Ted opened his car door. Saint continued to walk away and call out, “Run if you want to. They’ll find you and kill you.” He heard Ted’s feet beating the concrete as fast as his legs would carry him away. Saint walked over to Lance who was still incapacitated. He picked him up and dragged him to the backyard.

“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” Saint said as he looked down at Lance’s limp body. He then reached down and punched him in the face. Lance’s eyes flew open. He felt his body immediately surrounded by flames and began to scream at the top of his lungs.

Saint said calmly, “That’s your soul, your soul burning in Hell. I want you to feel it. Feel all the harm and pain you’ve caused others. Feel it, Lance. I’m not going to let you burn – yet. I promise, you can trust me.” Saint smiled. “I’m wondering if white power is helping you right about now?” Saint stood over him, falling down upon him like a pile of concrete as he pressed his hand harshly above his heart. He grabbed Lance’s hand, placed it over his own heart, then threw the horrid images into Lance’s head, forcing him to see his destiny.