Xenia was ecstatic, over the moon and through the damp, flower-covered valley now that the damn show was over. One of the most obnoxious, nerve grating rappers she’d ever encountered had worked her nerves down to the nub. He was a popular guy and he knew it. Fame had caught him at a very young age, and the fool didn’t know how to act. She’d questioned him about the derogatory lyrics in some of his songs and he gave the canned answer, ‘If you ain’t a gold-diggin’ bitch, then tha shit don’t apply to you…’
Oh, how she’d wanted to knock his silly, childish, non-talent having ass into the middle of next week. Her patience as of late had worn so short, it was barely visible, and this fella wore her out. Between the glare of his gold teeth, encrusted with diamonds bouncing under the lights almost blinding her, to the nasty way he rolled his tongue when he spoke, she’d had more than enough. She had to smile through the shit, and was just thrilled to be leaving for the day.
Home—her haven. One thing for sure, at least she had something great to come home to. Saint had been acting extra friendly, despite her inability to take care of her wifely duties. She soon realized why…that penny-colored-eyed fool wasn’t worth a damn! She seesawed between an assortment of sentiments, pleased that he had been so forthcoming about his experience at the museum, then angry with him at the same time—itching to curse him out to the moon and back. The whole mess became a wrestling match within her soul.
Being the man that he was, he of course had told her about the occurrence at the art gallery. He’d been so candid about it, not sparing any details. The whore’s name was Zaire…and the heffa was pretty…real pretty, and talented, too. Xenia had a mixture of emotions as she stared at him that morning over eggs and turkey bacon. Thankfully, the children were in their midst, for she’d have gladly broken every damn bone in his fucking body. It wasn’t fair, but she couldn’t help herself. Here, this gorgeous woman had approached his ass, and he actually considered fucking this bitch… No, that wasn’t just—her mind played tricks on her. He didn’t say that, but her heart heard it that way, nevertheless. Additionally, that woman wasn’t a bitch or a whore. In fact, she was honorable, unlike some of these hoes out here that would have said ‘fuck his marriage’ just to get their greedy little hands on him. Saint was fine as fuck, Xenia sure knew it, and the way he carried himself made him that much sexier.
Despite all of that, he didn’t do it; he didn’t give in to enticement. He said it was rather upsetting for him, for he thought he was better than that, stronger, but one thing Saint didn’t seem to understand, that she could see clearly in him as of late—he was weakening. The very reason he needed to make love to her before dealing with his cousin in Egypt was the very same because when he didn’t, he’d fall apart right before her eyes. Like now. She was his soul mate, and every time they made love, it recharged his battery.
Though the thought of the failed sexual encounter between them almost made her hurl, she had been determined to get through it, so he could get stronger once again. But, he’d said enough was enough, and thrown in the damn towel. This angered her to no end, because she knew then—not only would he continue to spiritually deteriorate, the man would be susceptible to other women. Xenia was no fool; she saw how these motherfuckers looked at her husband! Men and women would eyeball him on a constant basis. The women looked at the guy like he was some trophy…and he was, but he was hers. And the men many times mean-mugged, displeased with his presence that would turn the heads of their girlfriends and wives. This was one of the downsides of being married to such a handsome man. Saint wasn’t just nice to look at; he was physically stunning and the cocky bastard knew it. Xenia could carry her own, and her self esteem was not an issue, but Saint was almost pretty, and that, paired with his domineering ways and high intelligence, caused a strange lust that simply couldn’t be squelched.
This only fueled the fire within. Since she’d been forced into celibacy, her possessiveness in his regard grew to a destructive level. She wanted to know what he was doing, when he was doing it, and who he was doing it with, all… the… time. Although it didn’t make any sense and the man was true blue, her nerves were frazzled, and she was going through some shit! He asked her repeatedly to stop having him paged at the office when he was unable to answer his phone, but she simply couldn’t help it. She was frightened, losing her mind! She knew the man meant well, she knew he was struggling and trying, but Saint needed to be able to fuck! He required pussy, and he needed a steady, consistent diet of it. That was all there was to it. Eventually, if something didn’t give, she believed that, though he’d fought a good fight, he’d succumb. It could happen several years down the line, but everyone has their limits. He refused to admit such a thing, and he seemed adamant the ‘tree artist’ situation would not occur again. When he said it, he meant every damn word of it…but she also knew Saint from the inside out.
When they made love, all of those years, she could feel his intensity, his love pouring inside of her. The man would drill within her, as if he were trying to reach fucking China. He would pound, thrust, move his hips in ways that proved just how limber and talented the bastard was. That big dick of his would go full gusto within her as if he’d never had sex before a day in his life…as if it was a new experience, each and every time. All of that let her know that for Saint, sex was not merely a want, it truly was a need.
I’ve got to get to the bottom of this! I have got to find out what’s going on! But how?
Her heart rate increased as the warm, fuzzy feelings she just felt simply dissipated, giving way to worry, which took over for the umpteenth time that day. She was driving herself insane, making herself sick. This was so out of character, and…it proved emotionally exhausting.
I can’t be mad at him. He didn’t do anything wrong. He was confronted with a situation, and he handled it. Period. My problem is, what about the next temptation, and the one after that? How long is he supposed to endure this?! He doesn’t even get up to go in the bathroom and jerk off anymore. I just feel the bed shaking, and then hear him panting. At least he’s looking at me when does it though…
She smiled a bit at that. Saint had told her he wasn’t going to do it in private anymore. He wanted her to know that she was the source of his fantasies, so…if she wouldn’t mind, he wanted her to lie there naked, let him focus on her, preferably with her thighs wide open, as he brought himself to climax. Xenia figured it was the least she could do, and she even allowed him to ejaculate on her stomach or back a few times, though she immediately had to bathe, for she became queasy at the feeling of his cum all over her.
“Goodnight, Xenia!” one of the producers called out as she grabbed her purse, pushed the thoughts aside and made her way to the small lunchroom to retrieve her half eaten sandwich.
“Goodnight, Clark! See you tomorrow.” She smiled back, then made her way towards the elevator. Inside, she came face to face with several people who no doubt were in her same shoes… They just wanted to get home and unwind. As she exited the elevator, she saw a ‘Slippery Wet Floor’ sign on the ground, while a drab gray uniformed custodian made his way to and fro, swishing a bleach-smelling mop from side to side… And then, just like that, the memory of the large Hispanic man who’d tripped and fallen into her flooded her brain. The image of him tumbled to the forefront of her mind and she had the urge to pause, as if she was supposed to marinate on that thought for a bit. So, she stopped in her tracks. People whisked past her and grumbled as she impeded their path. It was like some odd epiphany.
Saint asked me if I’d seen a tall Japanese man that day, and I hadn’t. I’m pretty sure I would have recalled. I haven’t seen many Asian people in this building, period. But…I did see that overweight Hispanic guy.
She shrugged, not sure if she had anything substantial, but it was worth a shot. She wasn’t even certain why Saint had asked at the time, but it was as if he was trying to dissect her day, the one when her entire world changed. As she made her way to the parking garage, she sat in the driver’s seat and pulled out her phone.
“Oh, of course,” she muttered, smiling. “Of course he doesn’t pick up again… I know I’m getting on his damn nerves with my insecure ass.” She sighed and sat back as she waited for it to go voicemail. “I need to stop that shit. There isn’t anything cute about it and I know damn well he does not want another woman…but I’m scared of driving him away.”
Greetings, this is Saint Aknaten. I’m unable to answer my phone right now, but if you leave your name, number, the best time to reach you and a brief message, I will return your call at my earliest convenience. And remember, love is life, and life is love.
She heard the beep after his announcement.
“Hey baby, it’s me…but you probably already know that. I think I’ve called you like, twenty times today. I’m sorry, Saint.” She huffed and shook her head, upset with herself. “I promise to not do that anymore… I know you’re busy, it’s just like some compulsion though.” She sighed. “You did the right thing by telling me what happened at the art exhibit, and now I know you might regret it, feel like you are paying for some shit you didn’t even do, all because you told me. You know I’m not usually like this. I hate that I’m like this right now!” She rubbed her forehead and grimaced, then slammed her closed fist on the steering wheel.
“Anyway, that’s not the reason I called. Remember when you asked me when this shit first started, if I’d seen a tall Japanese man that day? Well, the answer is still no, but I did have one incident with a Hispanic man whom I’d never seen before, or since.
“He bumped into me, ran right into my ass.” She chuckled. “He was on the elevator, and he tripped getting off it I believe. Then, before I knew it, I almost crashed to the ground. He was courteous though; he grabbed my purse and handed it back to me. Anyway, for some strange reason, I don’t know…I thought you might want to know. I have no idea if it will help or not with whatever you may have been cooking up, but, since it just came back to me, hell, why not tell you, right?” She laughed sadly. “Anyway, baby, I know you said you were working late tonight, and I promise to not blow your phone up… Give me a call when you can though. I love you, Saint. I love you so much!” She blew a kiss into the phone, then disconnected the call.
She sighed heavily, then started up the car.
“God, you’ve given me everything I ever wanted, and then some. And I know you’re thinking, here I am, asking for something else.” She sniffed as she cautiously backed out of her parking space, talking aloud. “Well, God, this time, I’m not asking you to give me something new. I’m asking that you just please restore what I already had.” She continued to pray as she made her way out of the winding garage, floor by concrete floor. “I was told that God loves it when husband and wife come together as one. I have not been able to do that with my husband in a long time, Lord. It makes me feel inept…insecure. God, it makes me feel a little useless.”
Her eyes watered as she continued to drive.
“I have a good man, a husband that I love the mess out of. He felt so bad about what happened, he confessed it to me, and now, I’m torturing him with it. He is honorable and has a beautiful heart. He doesn’t deserve this. God, this is not how it is supposed to be. Please tell me this isn’t how we end?!” Now the tears fell freely. “’Cause I love that man, God. You gave him to me! Why would you then turn around and let this happen to us? He wants to do the right thing, God, and I know every day is a struggle for him.” As she drew closer to the exit, she saw evidence that it had rained. The street had a thin layer of slickness, some of the storefront awnings shimmered with watery, reflective light and drops of rain fell from the back of moving trucks. Yet right at that moment, as she slid her I.D. card through the slot and waved at the attendant, the sun was trying its hardest to peek out.
“Saint doesn’t have a cheating bone in his body, but let’s be real here, I’m a realistic woman, okay, God?” She continued to have a heart to heart with her Creator, saying it loud and clear, airing her grievances. “Even Saint could fall at the feet of temptation if this continues on and on and on. He has needs, just like every other human being on this planet. And how fair is it to expect that man to never have sex again? I couldn’t do that to him! I’d divorce him before I make him suffer like that!” She sniffed. “But he already told me that I better not.” She laughed a bit as she wiped her tears and entered the thick cluster of traffic.
“He told me I better not file papers on him just because my pussy is closed down for renovations. Sorry God! I’m just quoting what he said… He’s so silly. Even in the midst of all this, that man still makes me laugh.” She grinned a bit wider now as she passed by tall, imposing buildings. “I’m just asking that you give both of us some relief. Please show me what I can do to fix this? We’ve tried so many things and nothing has worked, and he won’t make love to me despite how I insist, because he knows my heart isn’t in it. It makes me ill. He said he doesn’t want to make love, unless I want it as much or more than him—and not because I’m afraid he’ll cheat, but because I desire him… And I totally understand that…I get it.” She sniffed as she approached a red light.
“Lord, please!” She beat on her steering wheel as the tears poured like mad now. “Please! I’ll do anything! This isn’t just about sex; this is about the love a woman shows to her husband! This is about my marriage! The marriage I dreamed of! This is about my family! Our children need to see their parents happy, not struggling! We have to be the example to them. God, pleeeaaaase help me!” She was falling apart at the seams, right then and there, afraid she wasn’t being heard, that the Lord had placed her on mute, or worse yet, ignored her call altogether, just like Saint had begun to do. Her heart ached so badly, the pain she felt was leaving her breathless as her crying threatened to choke her, cut off her voice.
“I’ll do anything! Anything, Lord! I’m begging you! And I love that man so much…that if…if you tell me I gotta leave him so he’ll be happy again, I will! I don’t want to, but…” Her running mascara stung her eyes. “But I will, because I love Saint just that much! Lord…my world has crashed! Please help me fix it!” She looked over to her right, and took note of a woman staring at her through all her antics. She didn’t even care—just glared back at the blond, whose lips stood ajar as she eyeballed Xenia, as if she were some circus-tent living freak. Xenia turned away and looked up to where the minister at her old Sunday school told her God lived… She glanced up at the sky, and burst out into an almost maniacal laugh when a strange, comforting warmth came over her. There, partially hidden behind a tall building with colorful flags waving to and fro representing many countries around the globe, appeared a beautiful, vibrant rainbow. She’d never seen one with colors so brilliant—and how amusing that it happened in smoggy Manhattan.
Could this be a sign from her Creator…that everything would be okay, turn out all right in the end? Could it be that hopefully, she could see enough of the solution to have restored faith in herself, her marriage, and most importantly, her very own Rainbeau?
In that moment, she recalled a scripture her grandmother had kept tucked away inside her Bible on a slip of cream-colored paper. Xenia remembered every word and recited it aloud as the tears came down a bit slower now, a smile stuck to her face like honey.
“Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding…Proverbs 3:5”
“Yes, Grandma, that is so true… I remember another scripture in Genesis, too; it went something like, ‘I have placed my rainbow in the clouds. It is the sign of my covenant with you and with all the earth.’”
Yes, I understand now, Lord…I understand…
*
“Lawrence, I can’t believe you would do something like this. I told you that in confidence!” Saint screamed like a banshee as he pointed to the Native Indian man standing before him. The fucker’s long black hair swayed as he jeered back while Saint slammed his office door closed, trapping the two of them inside like imprisoned combatants.
“I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about,” Lawrence said, sounding miffed.
“I just spoke to Jagger out in the hallway, and he tells me, ‘Sorry about you and Xenia. That explains why you’ve been so cranky at work.’”
“And you just assume that I told him, huh?” Lawrence pointed to himself, his eyes glinting. “Well I didn’t!” Lawrence threw up his hands. “Maybe he read you, did you consider that?!”
Before Saint could respond, his door swung open once more, and there Jagger stood clutching his cell phone in one hand and a pad and paper in the other.
“We need to talk about this case,” he said on a heavy exhale as he stormed past both men and plopped in one of the over-stuffed chairs in front of Saint’s desk, completely oblivious to the shit storm he’d flown into.
“How’d you find out about me and Xenia?” Saint didn’t waste another second trying to get to the bottom of this breach of trust. He wanted to find out who turned his ass in, made a fool of him, spread his business like smooth peanut butter on a cracker.
Jagger hesitated for a moment, then placed the pad of paper on Saint’s desk, his expression turning sheepish. “…Traci.”
“I’ll wait for my apology,” Lawrence said calmly as he, too, took his seat beside Jagger, and crossed his legs, his head held high in an imperial fashion.
“So that’s what your wife does, hmmm? Tell you all my personal business? That was supposed to be a private discussion between Xenia and Traci, not Xenia, Traci and Jagger.” Saint simpered as he walked over to his desk and banged his ink pen down on the damn thing, causing it to bounce and land on the glossy, cherry wood floor.
“Look, women talk, okay?” Jagger said matter-of-factly, a stupid grin on his face. “That night Xenia was over at my place, they confided in one another.”
“Oh, that’s funny, because I don’t recall hearing any gossip about you, Jagger,” Saint snapped, sitting back in his seat and folding his hands over his stomach. “And my wife talks for a living!”
“Look, I’m sorry about what’s going on, okay? But don’t take that shit out on Lawrence and me. We are your friends, we didn’t do anything!”
“Why doesn’t Traci concentrate on taking a damn cooking class instead of spreading my business around?! Buy a damn cookbook and study that shit, that’s what the fuck she can do!”
“I otta punch you in the fucking face!” Jagger roared as he rose from his seat.
“Saint, stop it. Jagger, sit down. He didn’t mean it,” Lawrence calmly interjected.
Jagger calmed a bit, and returned to his chair. “We only want what’s best for you and your behavior around here this week has been completely out of control,” he explained.
Saint rolled his eyes and turned away, dismissing Jagger as he often did as of late.
“You can look that way if you want, but it’s true. Everyone is talking. You are awfully irritable, you yell and scream and work all the time now, as if you’re afraid to even go home. I have no idea who you thought you were fooling. It is obvious something is seriously wrong… You were blocking me, too. Now it all makes sense.”
“Okay fine, now you know. You happy?” Saint hollered, snatching his laptop out of the case and placing it on his desk. He popped the damn thing open, wishing the entire world would just go taciturn for the rest of the blasted day.
“No, neither of us is happy about this!” Lawrence exclaimed. “Saint, I can only imagine how helpless you feel. Here you are, a sex therapist, having a major crisis in your love life that is neither you nor your wife’s fault. To add insult to injury, you discovered that she does, in fact, have desire, just not with you. That would be devastating for even the strongest of men.”
“You know about that, too?!”
“Well.” Lawrence shrugged. “Traci called Donna and—”
“Jesus Christ!” He looked for something to throw, but now two pens were on the ground and he sure as hell wasn’t going to toss his MacBook against the wall. “Loose mothafuckin’ lips! Word spreads faster amongst you all quicker than a roadrunner and cheetah racing towards a finish line. Normally, I would encourage her to confide in a friend if she didn’t feel she could with me, but this has to stop. I have to tell Xenia to discontinue talking to Traci about our personal matters; it’s obviously too much responsibility! Why does your wife talk so fucking much?!”
“She does not! She was concerned!”
“Bull! She wanted to gossip, and that’s one thing that can’t be blamed on the baby. That woman has got the biggest mouth in the entire fuckin’ 212 area code! I wouldn’t bet a dime on her to be able to zip it for just one damn second!”
“Don’t talk about my wife again, man!” Jagger pointed at him, his brows dipped as his ice blue eyes turned bright orange. “That is my final warning to you, Saint.”
“Oh, shut the hell up! If Traci got paid to gossip, you’d be billionaires! I know you’re gettin’ a real kick out of this, Jagger! A part of you enjoys it when I’m down on my luck. You’re always tryna compete with me, one-up-man type bullfuckery and other seedy, sneaky shit!” Saint found an ass-shaped tape dispenser hiding partially behind his computer and hauled it, too.
“You are completely delusional, you egotistical son of a bitch!”
“You can’t even spell delusional and egotistical you fucking dickhead, you muscle-necked imbecile, so why in hell are you even sayin’ the words?!” Saint belted.
“I can spell jackass though.” Jagger grinned as his eyes continued to change colors. “… But why should I have to, when I can just point at one?!” he roared, pointing an accusing finger in Saint’s direction. “And I may not have a fancy degree like yourself, Saint, but at least I’m not coming in here all bent out of shape, acting like a jerk to everyone because I haven’t had sex in a while and for me to one up you it would mean that I actually give a fuck! I was tryna be nice, tell you that I understood why you’ve been so bent out of sorts but just for this, I hope you don’t get laid for at least a whole ’nother two months, maybe longer!”
“And I hope a big ass flying saucer comes from outer space and crashes on top of you. Flattening you like a damn IHop pancake!”
“Would you two stop it?!” Lawrence screamed.
“…And then I hope it backs up, goes in reverse and crashes on you again and again…and again after that. It would be the only time you were actually close to intelligence.” Saint muttered, determined to get in the last word.
“Jesus Christ! You two are like children right now! Enough! … Look, Jagger, pull your head out of your ass, can’t you see the man is suffering here?” He pointed in Saint’s direction. “And how would you like it if Saint and I knew the intimate details of your sex life, and you hadn’t told us? Of course he’d be angry! I knew of the situation but not all of these details until a little while ago… It’s terrible, now both of you just calm down. You’re friends, just stop it.”
Everyone went quiet for a long while, trying to get control of themselves.
“Now.” Lawrence said in an even tone after some time, breaking the thick tension in the room. “Saint, since we both know, and it’s out in the open, before we discuss this new case, would you like to talk to us? I mean, there is no point in keeping tight-lipped anymore.”
Saint huffed, picked up the remote to his music system and hit play. Mya came on singing, “My Love Is Like Whoa.”
His head dropped and he closed his eyes while the gritty clutches of days passed encompassed him. A wave of shame drifted over his heart and bittersweet memories swirled inside his skull, etching flashes of a naked woman he’d run to the ends of heaven and hell for—all she had to do was say the fucking word. One late evening, several years ago, Xenia had danced to this very song for him before she fucked the life out of him…leaving him almost spent…
Damn! I want my baby back!
“Okay guys, besides Raphael, you two are like my brothers. We fight, we argue, we love one another…so here it is. Xenia has gone completely crazy, man.” He sighed and massaged between his eyes, fighting another sinus headache that threatened to hit. “I told her about some shit that happened at a museum, and ever since then, she has been blowing my damn phone up.” He opened his eyes, rolled them and looked listlessly towards a side window.
“…We noticed.” Jagger smirked. “She’s calling like every twenty minutes. I was hoping that was a good sign, actually.”
“No, it’s not.” Saint shook his head.
“How did this begin, like, what happened at the museum?” Lawrence questioned. Five minutes later, Saint had given the play by play, only to be met with wide-open mouths. Then the two men looked at each other and yelled simultaneously,
“Why did you tell her that?!”
“Awwww, man!” Saint spun around in his chair, knowing he was about to get a lecture. Hell, he regretted the shit now, too…but it was done! What could he do? “I was tryna be honest, guys! Full disclosure! You know, open lines of communication ’nd shit…” He scratched behind his neck, feeling nervous. “I didn’t do anything and if I had, I would have told her that, too. I felt guilty all the same. I just wanted to be truthful with her, you know?” Saint shrugged.
“…And here you accused me of being an imbecile. I woulda known not to tell Traci some shit like this!” Jagger burst out laughing.
“Jagger, shut up.” Lawrence chided then turned back towards Saint.
“Oh God, look, Saint, I can’t believe that I have to give the Don Juan of our group marital advice, but it seems that I do. Never, ever, ever, ever tell your wife when you are sexually attracted to another woman!”
“Have you ever been?” Saint asked Lawrence, a smile budding across his face.
“Of course I have been! And Donna will never know about it, especially because I want to stay alive, if that’s all right with you. I kinda like this living thing, breathing and taking in air, you know?” He chuckled.
“What about you, Jagger? You ever see something hot and tempting and think, ‘Damn, I’d like to give that a test drive?’”
“No,” the man said emphatically.
“You liar!” Lawrence roared. “Yes he did, Saint.” Lawrence tattled on the man, right then and there, which fueled Saint’s fire, made him a little less edgy. “I was with him when it happened. Traci and Jagger had had an argument. This was back in L.A., and—”
“Alright alright!” Jagger protested, waving his hands around. “Yes, it happened, okay?! But I never would have done anything about it.”
“Exactly, and neither would Saint.”
Lawrence obviously felt somewhat vindicated and Saint would have found the entire scene amusing had he not been suffering from a severe case of blue balls.
“No, even if she was game, I would not have gone through with it, just like I said. I’m being totally honest about that. What bothered me was the split second that I thought about it… I wasn’t sure, ’cause, you know, my mind was kind of messed up. But as the night unfolded, I saw my outcome, like walking five steps ahead of myself. No, I would have stayed true to my wife, but that still didn’t cure all the guilt. It was terrible.” He shook his head as he reflected over the entire ordeal. “It was like someone said, ‘Let’s fuck with Saint tonight and create a woman almost as beautiful as Xenia, drop her in front of him, and let her have a good heart, too.’ From that standpoint, it was horrendous. She was the kind of woman that, had I been single, I could have possibly pursued, and I rarely run into women that are anywhere near Xenia’s level. That moment of contemplation lasted less than sixty seconds, but those sixty seconds will haunt me the rest of my life.”
“Don’t. Let it go,” Jagger spoke up. “You can’t do that to yourself, beat yourself up about it. You were tempted because you felt rejected by your wife. It’s not like you had a good thing goin’ at home and went out and messed up. You still were noble, Saint, and that’s what matters. You fought, you won. No clothes came off. No kisses were exchanged.”
Lawrence nodded in agreement. Before Saint could respond, Jagger’s eye gleamed with mischievousness.
“What she look like?” Jagger slicked his tongue over his lower lip, leaving a sheen. Saint wanted to reach across the desk and choke the fuck out him.
“What the hell does it matter what she looked like, Jagger?!” Lawrence barked.
“Well, shit.” Jagger grinned and threw up his hands. “I was just curious! It’s not a crime, you know!”
“I think it’s safe to say that she was pretty nice looking and just leave it at that. The bigger issue here is that Xenia is a wreck. What are you going to do about her?” Lawrence inquired as he turned back towards Saint, bringing the conversation back on track.
“I keep trying to prove to this woman that she’s got me.” He patted his shirt right above his beating heart. “…That I’m not going any damn where.” Saint sighed in frustration. “But it’s like it’s going in one ear and out the other. She doesn’t trust me as far as she can throw me. It didn’t help when the paintings arrived…”
“Huh?” Jagger’s brow shot up.
“You know, the paintings I bought of the woman’s, like I explained.”
Jagger shook his head in disbelief. “Maaaaan! Saint, you really dug yourself a hole.”
“…And then I even told Xenia that I gave the woman extra money, for her rent and groceries.”
“You did WHAT?!” both men said in unison, their eyes glowing and a look of utter incredulity etched into their faces.
“I know, I know!” Saint tipped back in his seat and looked up at the ceiling as if to say, ‘Why have you forsaken me, Oh Lord?’
“At the time, it seemed like the right thing to do. She helped me that night, man. It ended up being a beautiful exchange! You guys should see this tree couple painting, I mean seriously. It gives me so much strength.”
Saint maneuvered his phone out of his pocket and looked down at it.
“Damn.” He ran his hand leisurely over his lips. “Three more missed calls from Xenia…looks like I gotta voicemail here, too. Fuck…let me go ahead and play this back.”
Both men nodded and began to talk about the new case amongst themselves as Saint rose from his seat and walked to the far right corner of his office, trying to gain a bit of privacy. As he listened to the message, he couldn’t believe his ears.
“Yo! Lawrence!” he screamed out as he ended the playback and rejoined the group. “I am wishing on a star you can help me here! I’ve got a theory about this whole sexless situation.”
“By all means, run it past me.”
“Initially, though I didn’t tell you, I felt like Koki was involved in this. I didn’t say anything to you because once I asked Xenia if she’d seen him and she told me she hadn’t, so that pretty much flushed my theory down the toilet. I felt like I had nothing else to hold onto regarding that rationale. Well, guess what? The day this shit first started, some big guy ran into her after work, almost knocking her down. I bet he’s got something to do with this!”
“Well Saint, come on. That’s kind of a shot in the dark,” Jagger interjected.
“Not really,” Lawrence interrupted, raising his hand in the air, “Do you by chance know where he ran into her?”
“Yes.” Saint clenched his teeth. “He ran into her ass, she said.”
“I bet he touched her lower vertebrae…” Lawrence drifted away in thought, slumping into his seat as he ran his fingertips along his chin. “Saint, he may have put a hex on her, a very common one, but powerful. It doesn’t work on us Angel Children, and attempting to get close enough to touch you without detecting them would have been far more risky. Once he realized your wife was a civilian, he may have felt that was his way inside, his way to get close to you. Yes, this could really make sense… They direct their energies towards our weaknesses. Koki was smart enough to realize that if he could get you in a weakened state, he’d have an advantage. The man who ran into her must’ve been what we call a ‘Love Jones’ Demon Child.”
“What’s that?” Jagger inquired, now hanging onto Lawrence’s every word. “This one is new to me.”
“From the urgency in Saint’s movements and energy, we don’t have time for me to get into a long and deep discussion regarding Demon Children. It could take hours. They are very complicated people, but basically, there are different types of Demon Children, Jagger.”
“Well, I already understood that part, Lawrence. I just have never heard of a ‘Love Jones’ one though.”
“It’s just a nickname said amongst ourselves. The Latin term for this is, Amor est daemon meus, which means, ‘Love is my Demon.’ It is based on the principle of the seven deadly sins. It turns the object of your desire into someone that literally repulses you. The one in question is more than likely a Demon Child that puts a curse on someone based on his or her romantic affiliations. They basically touch the lower vertebrae of the person with their right hand, and say, ‘May you lose all desire for your one true love.’ That is a very rough translation, so don’t quote me on it, but that’s the gist of it. As Saint is well aware, our bottommost chakra, the Muladhara, is located in our lower backs. I am compelled to believe that you were right the whole time, Saint. This wasn’t some coincidence.
“There are seven chakras, seven days of the week, seven deadly sins…” Saint muttered as he paced back and forth like a caged panther, gathering his thoughts. “Un-fucking believable!” Saint wanted to tear something up, but at the same damn time, he had a sense of relief. “Okay, what do we do now, Lawrence? How do I get my woman back?!”
“Well, that’s the tricky part, Saint. There isn’t a short answer, per se.” He winced as his shoulders slumped a bit, trounced before the game even began.
“Tricky part? I don’t give a shit if it’s an entire year long magic show. How do we stop this?! Make it right? I can’t take one more day of this. Not one more!”
“Okay Saint, I need you to calm down.” Lawrence stood from his seat. “We have to go about this in the right way, to ensure that we can take care of it.” Raising his hands, he slowly approached Saint, as if a riled up serpent had landed in the room, and everyone’s safety was at stake. “We can’t have you tracking Koki down and beating on him like you want to; no, we need to be methodical about this.”
“It is tearing my marriage apart.” Saint backed himself into a wall and covered his eyes with his sweaty palms for a brief spell. He’d become winded and an internal inferno, burned within, marinating with a bloody taste for revenge. “Xenia even brought up letting me leave if we didn’t find a solution soon, man. Now you know I can’t let that woman go… Over my dead body!” he rasped, gripping his shirt into a tight ball. “She said she’d rather me get what I need than hold me back…you all have no fucking idea the shit going on in my house right now. It’s been awful!” His voice shook. “That’s the type of woman I’m married to—selfless, but she doesn’t get that if she’s gone, I may as well be dead, so what would be the use in her leavin’, huh?”
“Oh man…” Jagger’s eyes turned dark sapphire—nothing but pure sympathy. “Saint, I’m so sorry, man…but at least we know now what’s going on. You know we will do whatever is necessary to help you get this straightened out.”
“Lawrence, what do we need to do to help Saint?”
“Frankly?”
“No, un-frankly…yes, damn it! How else would I want you to be?!” Saint screamed at him. He was a loose canyon and the lack of intimacy from his Queen, paired with this new revelation, made every muscle inside his temple jump. “I’m sorry Lawrence, I’m losing it… Go ahead, please.”
“Alright. I’ll just say it. Saint, Xenia will have to kill the man who did this.” Lawrence sat back down, slumped in his seat, and stared aimlessly at the ground.
“I must’ve misheard you.” Saint blinked hard a few times, as if someone had cold-cocked him from the side.
“No, you heard me just fine. That’s the only way to break this sort of curse.”
“Oh, for the love of God! She can’t do that, Lawrence! I can though, and happily!” He narrowed his eyes. “No, we need a second opinion. There has to be another way.”
“There is no other way, Saint. We’d have to find him for her and arrange it. The one good thing about this is that, once the curse is removed, it can never be placed on her again, by anyone. Now Saint, you can be there, you can help her, but she has to be the one to do it.”
“Oh, fuck! Uh uh! I can’t believe this.” Saint gulped and walked to his desk, flopping down in the leather chair like a sack of uncooked rice. “Can’t you call someone, find out about some provision at least? I just can’t ask her to—”
“The only way! I am certain about this. Now, do you want me to tell her? You don’t appear to be in a position to disclose such details.”
“No, no.” Saint shook his head and exhaled. “I’ll call her.” He removed his phone from his pocket once more and stared at it, as if he weren’t sure how to work the contraption.
“Well?” Lawrence urged after a few moments. “Call her.”
Saint shot him a menacing glance, then dialed his wife’s number, putting the woman on speakerphone.
“Hi Xenia…” he started, sounding like he was being crushed under a pile of fallen brick. His heart skipped beats as he danced around pending words, scattered about in his brain like scrabble pieces for a game.
“Am I on speakerphone?” she asked warily, a ’tude in her tone. In the distance, he could hear his children laughing and playing. Dakarai was the loudest, and it made him smile ever so slightly.
“Yeah…Jagger and Lawrence are sitting here. I got your voicemail, baby. I have good news, and I have bad news, which one do you want to hear first?”
A brief pause ensued.
“The good news…”
“The situation that you have, that we have, is not of your own doing.”
“Saint, uh…I don’t want to talk about this in front of…you know…”
“Baby, too late. They already know. Now, just listen. That man that ran into you, the one you told me about on the voicemail, well, we’re pretty sure he put a curse on you, Xenia.”
“Oh my God! I knew it, Saint! I knew I wasn’t doing this to myself but I couldn’t figure out what was happening! It was like my body was fighting me every step of the way. Okay, well, now we know, that’s good, right? Yes…that’s good because we know how it happened and we can get rid of it, right?”
“…Yeah, that’s good, but…”
“And the bad news? Saint, what’s the bad news?!” The woman was entering a state of panic and he wasn’t sure he could steer her clear of it.
“We know how to remove the curse.”
“That’s good, too! Let’s do it then!” She sighed openly in relief.
“Xenia…” Saint ran his finger down her photo in his phone. He closed his eyes and sucked in air, hating that moment in time, hating it for the trouble it would cause. “Are the children within hearing range?”
“Uh, not really, but just in case, hold on…Hey!” she called out. “You all go into the play area, please!” Everyone waited while the tromping of feet got lighter and lighter until it could be heard no more. “Okay, what is it?”
“Xenia, there is no easy way to do this. You have to…you have to kill the man that did this to you. It’s the only way to break the curse.”
“What?! Saint, are you serious?!”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
The woman didn’t speak for a long while.
“Xenia, if I may address you… This is Lawrence. I don’t need to ask how you are doing. I think we’ve got that covered.”
“Hello, Lawrence…” Xenia said weakly, as if she’d just awoken from a sound sleep and fell the fuck out again, this time into the fiery pits of hell.
“Yes, uh, I just explained to your husband the gravity of the situation. I know you are not like us, you are a civilian; thus, the act of exterminating a life is not exactly on your wish list. I get it. However, I have additional information that may make you understand the severity of the issue at hand.”
Saint shot Lawrence a look, his brow raised. He wanted answers, damn it.
“I thought you’d told me everything. What information?!” Saint barked.
Lawrence nodded and raised his hand, motioning for him to hold on.
“Um, Xenia.” Lawrence concentrated back on the phone, elevating his chin so that his voice would ring out with more clarity. “You know how the spell basically made you disgusted with the idea of intimacy with your husband?”
“…Yes.”
“Well, these types of curses have a tendency to get worse and worse over time. By worse, I mean they can spread to others.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well.” He shrugged. “There is no exact science to it, but it can become like a virus, airborne, if you will. From my recollection, and I plan to verify this as soon as I get home, but after about a three month period, it becomes kind of like the HIV virus, very evident and detectable by most psychic tests. It can cause other women around you to also endure the same experience with their mates. It is also transferred to the same sex, by the way, versus the opposite sex, but it could make, say, Donna, Traci and any other woman you hang with have the same reaction to us…” Lawrence paused for effect. “As you currently feel towards Saint, so others will feel the same towards their husbands. You’d have to basically alienate yourself from everyone for the remainder of your life and to top it off, once Isis got to an age in which she would have fallen in love with someone, you could give it to her, as well. So you see, it is imperative that this be stopped as soon as possible.”
“Xenia, no disrespect, I love ya, you know that, but please don’t come to my house right now. I can’t have Traci gettin’ this!” Jagger blurted, causing everyone to look at him in awe as a clear wave of terror moved through his big body like a lightning bolt. “I’m sorry, but this shit scares me now!”
Saint’s eyes narrowed on the man, but he had bigger issues to deal with other than Jagger’s insensitivity.
“…And let’s use Jagger’s fear that he just broadcast at the most inappropriate time as an example.” Lawrence grimaced at the man. “Let’s say Traci did get it, Xenia. She would never be able to get rid of it until you, the source of it all, snuffed out your assailant. In the meantime, Traci could be spreading it to others, and it would go and on, wrecking havoc.”
Xenia exhaled loudly. “Okay. Saint, can you track this motherfucker down so I can get this over with?” she declared rather calmly.
Everyone in Saint’s office stared at the phone, their mouths dropped—including his own.
“Baby.” Smirking—and dare he admit it, full of pride for his strong, resilient woman—he leaned back in his seat. “You know Jagger and I can find almost anyone. Just give us the most information you can about him. Let’s start with his physical description and the time frame he was there.”
“I can do you one better.” He could picture her clicking her tongue on the side of her mouth as she customarily did when she was vexed and prepared to pull the rug out from under some bastard’s feet. “I will call Mama to come over here to watch the kids, go to the office tonight, and get the surveillance tapes for that day from the security guy, Rodger. He and I are pretty chummy, I’m sure he will let me have it, and then I will let you see them. That way, you, Lawrence and Jagger can take a look for yourselves. This son of a bitch was on the elevator. There is a camera in there, Saint.”
“Perfect, baby, and while you are doing that, the three of us will be devising a plan on how to get this guy lured and cornered, okay? Yeah… we don’t need much, just to catch his scent if you will, and we will be able to track him.”
“Very well,” she said dryly. “I want this done tonight. If I have too much time to think about it, I, well… never mind. We need to do this now. Do you understand me?!”
“Loud ’nd clear, baby…loud ’nd clear.”
Xenia abruptly disconnected the call and Saint could not wash away the smug smile glued to his face.
“Well boys, looks like Xenia truly is ride or die,” he said with satisfaction, crossing his arms. “I have several guns. I already trained her how to shoot, but she’s never killed anyone before. Regardless, she is prepared. Oh, and call your wives. It’s going to be a long fucking evening. Bank on it.”
*