Deadly Saintes- The Complete Series, page 23
part #1 of Deadly Saintes Series
“Wouldn’t the expensive suit give it away?” he asked.
“Nah. The suit builds trust. The average person gives trust based on appearance. Look rich and they think you’re rich.”
“They?”
“I don’t make a lot of money, but I’m around enough powerful people to know the difference.”
“So you have a super power for telling fakers from the real thing?”
She tapped her chin. The car coming to a stop, she stared up at her building. “Not fakers. That’s not the right word. Sometimes you have to fake it to make it.” She looked back at him. “I’d like to think I can spot bullshit.” She straightened his tie and adjusted his handkerchief, let her hand linger on the spot. “I don’t sense any bullshit here.”
RJ typed his password into the app. After it opened, he transferred $50,000 to another account. After he was done, he called Constance. “What up sis?”
“I thought I wouldn’t be hearing from you for a while. How’re you feeling?”
“I’m good. Everybody was right about talking to Titus.”
“What brought about the change of heart?” she asked.
“I’m tryna set a better example for you and be a better big brother.” He opened the text he received as he laughed. “When is the meeting supposed to go down?”
“Next Tuesday.”
“Cool, cool. I’m about to order some food. Whatchu think about a brother-sister date? We ain’t done that in a while.”
“Who are you and what have you done with my brother?”
“I’m turning over a new leaf. I wanna take my sister out to dinner and movie. Or whatever you wanna do. I’m paying.”
“Let me check my schedule.”
“Damn,” he said. “Now I know how Jovan feels.” He made no attempt to hide his guffaw.
“I’m hanging up.”
“Aww, little Connie’s in her feelings.”
“‘Bye, asshole.”
“Love you too.” He continued laughing after the call was over. He opened the text again, still laughing as he typed in his response.
11-27.
4
Titus rolled onto his back, his chest heaving, sweat pouring off him. He let out a big breath and reached for his phone.
“Right back to business huh?”
“Business never stops sweetheart, you should know that,” he said. Once done, he rested the phone on his chest and tucked his arms under his head. “That was amazing. We keep doing this you’re gonna get me back in shape. How many times is that?”
“Four if you count the one in the car?” The woman sat up, pulling the sheets around her.
“You know you can take that mask off right?”
“I like it. It makes me mysterious,” she said. “You like it too.” She grabbed at his crotch “How are you already ready?”
“Maybe it’s those blue pills, but I would say it’s the fear of getting caught. But I’m not scared of nothing.”
“Right. My brave man.” She pressed her lips into his, the kiss lasting several seconds. Her tongue traveled along her top lip. “You taste good.”
“You taste better.”
She ducked his hand. “Watch it.”
“Take that fucking mask off. I wanna see you.” After she bowed her head, he peeled the ends away from one another of lifted it off.
Chanel shook her head and combed her fingers through her hair. “That’s why I didn’t want to take it off. I got mask hair.”
“You’re beautiful.” Titus brought her face down to his, kissing her lips then her forehead. “RJ is a damn fool.” He felt the spot where she laid after she got up. He massaged the wet spot, running his fingers under his nose. He then sucked the tips. “Sweet as peaches.”
She went into the bathroom and left the door open. “You so nasty.” Chanel started the shower and let the sheet fall to the floor. Sitting on the toilet, she smiled at him as he appeared in the doorway. Propping her foot on the hamper, she ran her hands up and down her leg. “How did you fuck me like this?”
“Like what?”
“With all this hair on my legs. I look like Chewbacca.”
He sat on the side of the tub, pulled her foot in his lap and began massaging it. Running his hands up and down her leg, he lifted her foot to his mouth. “I’d fuck you if you were Chewbacca.” He swirled his tongue around her big toe before sucking on it. His face screwed. He pulled it out. “How is it possible that every part of you taste good?”
“What’s the best part?”
He opened the shower door. “Take a seat and I’ll show you.” Following her inside, Titus lowered to one knee, hooking her left leg over his right shoulder. His face disappeared into her folds. After a moment, he resurfaced. “How serious is this?”
“Keep going.”
“Not until you tell me where we’re taking this.”
“Ain’t I supposed to be the one to ask that?” she said. Recognizing his seriousness, she set her foot on the floor. “Why does it matter?”
“Because if it serious, we need to tell RJ.”
She stood. Squirting a nickel sized dollop of body wash into her palm, she began lathering her body.
Titus stood. “You’re mad?”
She didn’t answer.
“Chanel.”
“Fuck yeah I’m mad. Why do we have to tell that cheating muthafucka anything? You know I don’t like people being in my business. RJ finding out about this, us, would…it would ruin it. I don’t have to tell him shit anyway.”
Titus wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. He kissed her cheek. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I just don’t want to hide you anymore.” He spun her around. “I haven’t been this happy in a long time.” He slipped his hands between her legs. “I ain’t ever had pussy this good. I want everybody to know you’re mine.”
“It sounds like you’re falling in love, old man.”
He didn’t respond, instead keeping his eyes on hers. He kissed her hand. Pulling her into him, he spun her around once more, kicking her legs apart.
Chanel’s hand pressed into the glass, the print elongating until it was no longer recognizable.
RJ and Constance laughed between bites. They had always gotten along better when they weren’t focused on business. He stole the last French fry on her plate.
“Some things never change,” she said, wiping her mouth. Sipping from her drink, she moved too slow to catch her burp.
RJ waved his hand in front of his nose. “Damn, sis.”
“Sorry,” she said. She laughed. “It’s been a while since I’ve had pop.” Leaning back into her chair, she observed his face. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Thank you for finding time for me.”
They sat in silence. RJ tapped on the table, not wanting to be the first to speak.
Despite being the oldest, a part of him looked up to Constance. He wished he had her discipline and patience. They were alike in the fact that they both put business over family – the family they weren’t born into. He reflected on the night Chanel left. A pain stung his heart. He couldn’t remember the last time he spent any significant time with his kids.
“We should get the kids together for a play date.”
She smiled. “That would be nice. I don’t remember the last time, Joi saw her cousins.”
“That’s a shame.”
She took another sip from her drink, keeping hold of the cup. She rested her chin on her fist. “Are we bad parents?”
“I don’t think so. None of our kids want for nothing.”
“Except us.”
Silence fell between them once again. A ball of thunder rolled across the sky. “Been praying for rain.”
She watched the ground darken as the rain increased. “We need the cleansing.” Sitting back, her mind was blank as she watched the game on the TV. After a while, she looked back at him. “I need to stop being so much like you.”
“You’re nothing like me.” RJ’s phone began to ring. “Excuse me, this is personal,” he said, sliding out of the booth. Out of hearing distance, he answered. He listened and paused before he spoke.
“It’s your call.”
Titus made patterns in the air, pretending to be a maestro as he listened to one of Mozart’s symphonies. He couldn’t help smiling, Chanel fresh on his mind. He didn’t allow himself to consider the possibility of being in love with her, simply because he didn’t believe in the concept. All the women before her had proved him right, usually within a quick period of time, that his heart was too worthy to give.
But she was different.
She occupied his mind, requiring him to think and see things from different perspectives. She was the first woman that matched him, physically, mentally, and financially.
He pulled out his phone. Scrolling to her name, he pressed the home button and stuffed it back into his pocket. Letting down the privacy screen, he requested that the volume be turned down. “Byron, can I ask you something?”
“With what you pay me, you can ask me anything you want.”
“How did you know you were in love with your wife?”
“You want the truth or the politically correct answer?” Byron said, peeking into the rearview.
“Keep it 100.”
Byron’s shoulders rose and fell. “I had the chance to cheat. The girl was beautiful. Big tits, fat ass, child bearing hips. She was the girl that I jacked off to when I couldn’t watch porn. I couldn’t get hard. Don’t think I’m a sucker, but I couldn’t stop thinking about my wife. When you’re willing to give up all the pussy you’re getting, that’s how you know.”
Titus began to conduct the invisible orchestra once again. He asked himself the question over and over.
Without warning, he was thrown across the backseat. The car shuttered to a stop. “What the fuck was that?”
Byron climbed out. “You alright? It’s a blowout.” He opened the trunk a second later and pulled out the spare tire, jack, and tire iron.
Titus scanned the area for any threats. Kicking his door open, he pulled his phone out, dialing Chanel’s number as he walked across the street.
Her voicemail answered.
“Hey baby, I was just calling because I wanted to hear your voice.” He took a deep breath. “I couldn’t say it earlier because I was in denial. But I’m ready to admit it now. I am in,” – the blast blew him off his feet.
A secondary blast caused Titus’ ears to ring. On his back, he kicked himself away from the destruction. The horror of the bright orange flame reaching out for him did its best to steal his breath. Along with the smell of burning rubber and gasoline, the scent of burning flesh wafted into his nose. Making it to his feet, he was back on his knees a second later, spilling his guts. Tears streamed down his eyes, saliva stretching from his lips. Finding his phone, he couldn’t take his eyes off the fireball as he dialed emergency services.
The Sainte Clan was in front of the fire, all the children gathered together in front of the 70 inch TV, mesmerized by Lion King, which miraculously none of them had ever seen. The adults were talking amongst themselves on the far side of the room.
The atmosphere was calm. RJ and Constance decided to make the play date a family affair. It was a huge success, none of the kids leaving the other’s side since they arrived.
“We should’ve done this a long time ago,” Constance said.
“You’re right about that, sis.”
Reginald, sitting between them, wore a proud smile as he watched, his mind, for the first time in a long time at ease. He tapped both of their glasses with his own. “I wish I could live in this moment forever. I have all of my family in one place, safe, and happy. The only thing that would make this better is if Vera was here.”
“She is here daddy.” Constance kissed his cheek. “She’s inside all of us.”
He held her face. “You’re right.”
“Malcolm, you’re quiet,” she said. “You alright?”
The haze cleared from his eyes as he looked up. “Just thinking.”
“Talk to us.”
“Yeah, what up lil bro? You need me to get somebody’s ass?” RJ said.
“I met someone. A girl. I think I like her. I think I like her too much.” He took the glass RJ handed him, drinking what remained. “I feel bad. I think I should tell Simone.”
“That is the absolute worse thing you can do,” Constance said.
“You didn’t fuck her yet did you?” RJ asked.
“Nah. I haven’t even touched her.”
“Then listen to Constance. Keep that shit to yourself. When you do fuck her, keep that shit to yourself. Take that shit to your grave. If you and Simone break up, still keep that shit to yourself. Women are vindictive.”
“Not all women,” Constance said.
“Oh yeah, what would you do if you found Jovan cheating?”
She took a moment to consider her answer. She looked at Lawrence. Her lips curled into a smile. “Maybe I don’t care anymore”
“That was a bad example,” Reginald said. “When a woman doesn’t care anymore, that’s when men get hurt.”
Everyone laughed, Reginald serving another round of drinks.
Outside, a man peeked through his binoculars, double checking the faces with the photos sitting in his lap. Once he was sure, he climbed out of the van, pulling its back doors open. He ripped back the tarp to reveal a military grade weapon. Pulling gloves onto his hands, he loaded two more bullets into the magazine. Snapping it in place, he threw the gun over his shoulder and grabbed a duffle bag before making his way closer to the house. The darkness kept him hidden as he determined the best spot from which to shoot. Settling just to the left of the picture window, he opened the duffle bag. It took him a couple of minutes to set up the stand. After securing the gun, he looked through his scope, watching as the chocolate brown woman led the kids out of the room. He hooked an earpiece around his ear.
“I’m in position. They’re all here.”
“Reginald and RJ only.”
“Got it.” He cursed to himself as the rest of the room’s occupants began to leave the room.
“Who wanted strawberry,” Eralia asked. She slid the bowl to Joi. “Chocolate?”
“Me,” Ryan, RJ’s eldest son, said, his arm shooting into the air.
“And you,” she winked at Remy, RJ’s youngest son, “must have ordered vanilla.”
He smiled back at her. “Thank you.”
“You’re so welcome.”
Reginald wrapped an arm around her waist. He placed his lips next to her ear. “You don’t know how sexy that was. I can’t wait until they go to sleep. The things I’m gonna do to you.” Putting his glass down, he turned Maze on his phone, leading her to an open area. They began two stepping across the floor, a collective clap following soon after. “You young folks don’t know nothing about this.”
Constance took Lawrence’s hand. “Let’s show them what we can do.”
The kids joined soon after, the three of them holding hands as they danced in a circle.
Their laughter filled the kitchen, everyone taking turns singing their favorite parts, Reginald teaching Eralia the words.
The song went off.
Reginald was holding his phone in his hand when a bullet rushed through it.
The shooter’s cheek vibrated as the gun spat out its bullets. He swept the barrel back and forth, his finger tight around the trigger. Only when his wrist and shoulder began to numb did he stop firing. Observing his work, he counted the bullet holes in the brick. Reaching 30, he decided that it was sufficient. Disconnecting the gun, he snatched the stand and bag, and jogged back to the van, throwing the tarp over them before slamming the doors shut. He pushed the car out of the driveway. Getting up to a speed that allowed it to continue rolling, he hopped inside and started the engine. A good distance away from the house, he turned the headlights on and stomped the gas.
5
“I’m here, baby. I’m here.”
“Sir, you need to step back.” The EMT put pushed Reginald back, stepping between him and the ambulance. He closed one of the doors.
“I’m riding with her.”
“You can’t. The baby can’t come.”
Reginald followed his eyes to his arms. David’s smiled was full of innocence despite the small cuts that decorated his face. He shifted the baby in his arms.
“You can follow behind us.”
“I’ll take him, Daddy,” Constance said. “Go. We’ll come later.”
The EMT looked at Constance. “You should come too, ma’am. That’s a bad cut.”
“Take care of my stepmother,” she replied. “I’ll be fine.”
He climbed into the ambulance and slammed the door.
Constance watched the ambulance until it disappeared, swiping at her tears as David cooed. She followed Lawrence into the house where everyone else was waiting. She closed the door, and the emotions hit her. She trembled. David whimpered.
“I’ll take him,” Malcolm said.
“Go be with your father,” Lawrence said. “I’ll take care of her.”
Malcolm nodded. “I’ll take the kids to Dad’s house. Trey, can you help me? RJ, you go to the hospital.”
Constance watched as everyone left. She ran her fingers through her hair. She sat down, standing back up a second later. Her mind was so busy that she didn’t realize that she was walking over large patches of glass, the shards lodged themselves in the bottom of her shoe, producing a scratching sound with each step. After a few steps, she tired of the sensation. Using the counter to balance as she removed her shoe, her hand slipped. The shards forced themselves into her palm as she braced herself. She slapped Lawrence’s hands away as he attempted to pick her up. Drunk with emotion, she pushed herself backward, driving the shard deeper in her leg. A streak of blood stretched across the tile.
