Deadly Saintes- The Complete Series, page 36
part #1 of Deadly Saintes Series
Brooklyn shook her head as she looked through the binoculars. The man she saw looked nothing like the legend. She felt sorry for him as he limped back and forth, punching the air. Watching him, she saw how much Titus had rubbed off on him; he had acted the same way. It was her third time casing the house and like the other times, there weren’t any cars in the driveway. Though she couldn’t see the back of it, she thought that he had been alone. She watched him gulp down a shot of liquor straight from the bottle.
She felt a pull to him. The more he drank the sorrier she felt for him. He was lonely and unhappy. Leaving him alive would make him suffer more.
Without warning, he disappeared. Brooklyn refocused her binoculars, but she didn't see Reginald.
He was on the floor. He crawled to his phone, wincing as the pain shot through him.
“Call Malcolm.”
“Hey Dad.”
He pushed himself up on an elbow. “Hey, hey son, how are you? I’m sorry for calling so late. I'm glad you're still up.”
“I'm up early. You sound like you've been drinking."
“Yeah, I guess I have. I just wanted to talk to my kid. I can never catch up with your sister."
“You know how she is. Missing in action until a crisis is happening. How is she?”
“Constance kicked Jovan out of the house. Did you know that?"
"Yeah, she told me. About damn time, I say."
"I agree. She never should have married that low down son of a bitch."
"You never liked him."
"Neither did you, son."
Malcolm snorted. "She could have done better."
"I think she will this time."
"Dad? You don't sound right."
"I told you, I've been drinking."
Brooklyn looked until Reginald reappeared. Her breathing slowed. She used the binoculars to watch his lips as he spoke, too far away to read them. A swift swipe answered the phone. “What up, bro?”
“Just checking in. What you up to?” Trey said.
“Watching the elder Sainte.” She described the current happenings. “I think he’s depressed. I’m pretty sure he’s crying right now.”
“All that bullshit is finally catching up to him. I got some bad news.”
She rested the binoculars on the dashboard and held the phone to her ear. “What happened? Are you all right?”
“I’m all right. But we lost our plug.”
Brooklyn felt dizzy. “Santini?”
“Jovan. He died in a car accident tonight.”
Brooklyn let her head fall back. She did her best to sound sympathetic. “That's too bad.” She watched Reginald “Man, he is really knocking ‘em back.”
“Who?”
“Reginald. He’s almost through a bottle of Hennessy. He's been drinking all night.” The line went silent. “You there, Trey?”
“He’s not supposed to be drinking. Constance told me something was wrong with his liver.”
“Fuck.” She scanned the room for him. “I’ll call you back.” She grabbed her gun before kicking the door open. Staying low, she crept to the windows. Ignoring the spines, she snuck into the bushes. She looked in the window.
Reginald was in a fetal position. His shirt was dark with sweat. He gasped.
"Dad! Are you still there? Did we lose the connection?“
Reginald took a deep breath. Then everything went dark.
7
Lawrence said nothing when Kourtney got into the car.
“You’re playing the gangster role aren’t ya?” She toyed with his collar and wiped some lint off his jacket. “Wearing all black, meeting in a dark place.” She looked out of all the windows. “You have someone watching us too?”
“I told your guys to follow him.”
“And that’s what they did.”
“Then why am I helping Constance make funeral arrangements?” He pushed the door open when Constance’s name appeared on the dash.
"Excuse me," he said. "I need to take this."
"I understand."
He disconnected the bluetooth and made sure he was a good distance away before answering. “Hey love, is everything okay?”
“I need you to talk to Joi. She’s being, she’s being difficult. I don’t have the time or patience for it. Can you please talk to her?”
“Yeah, I’ll call her when–”
“I’m not being difficult,” Joi said.
Lawrence’s shoulders dropped. He remembered how she had wailed when they told her about her father. Lawrence had always been close to Joi, like another uncle. He was on the pickup list for her school, and he had been there for all the important events in her life. “She’s got a lot going on. She didn’t mean it. I’m sorry you heard that.”
“She should be the one apologizing. She thinks I’m stupid. I wish she would tell me the truth about what happened between her and Dad.”
“Where is she?”
“I’m on the patio. She went back inside.”
He kept an eye on the car after spotting the passenger door creep open. “Talk to me.”
“She’s trying to make it seem like they decided to split up. Like they just grew apart. I know they hated each other.”
He said, “They didn’t hate each other.”
“Do you think I’m stupid, too, Uncle Lawrence?”
“You know I don’t.”
“Please don’t do that. You’re the only person I feel comfortable talking to about this. Be honest. They hated each other and you know it.”
He knew it, but he didn’t have enough strength to admit it. He wouldn’t bad mouth the man when he couldn't defend himself. He also didn’t want to ruin her image of him, knowing that would rub off on how she saw Constance.
He asked, “You know what frenemies are?”
“Duh.”
He chuckled. “That’s what your mom and dad were. They loved each other because without one another they wouldn’t have you. When you weren’t on their minds–”
“They hated each other.”
“Exactly.”
“He had a girlfriend.”
Lawrence raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think that?”
“We had a half day at school about a year ago. I guess he forgot, because she was here. He told me they were working on a game together, but I knew she shouldn’t have been here. He made me promise not to tell Mom.”
Lawrence tried not to grind his teeth. “That put you in a bad position.”
“I miss him.”
“I know, sweetie.”
He heard Constance’s confidence in her words, her delivery smooth like Jovan’s. She was a perfect combination of her parents. Looking at her, it was hard to tell which one she looked like more. He came to appreciate her position, being in the middle of a feud that had nothing to do with her. He was familiar with it, having been the middleman in many a battle between the elder Sainte siblings.
“You better be nice to my mom.”
Lawerence felt a tight knot in his stomach. “Huh?”
“I said you better be nice to my mom. She deserves to have someone be nice to her and pay attention to her. If you’re gonna be in her life, you have to give her what she deserves.”
“I’ll make her happy.”
“It’s not your job to make her happy,” Joi said. “Just don’t take away from it.”
Lawrence grinned. “Yes ma’am. Anything else?”
“You don’t have to sleep in the guest room. I know you and Mom aren’t just friends.”
He swallowed hard. “I don’t understand.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Are you okay with that?”
“You were always nice to me. And to her. You don’t fight like her and Dad. I like that.”
Lawrence laughed. His amusement disappeared when he saw Kourtney get out of the car. “Gotta go. I love you.” He grabbed her shoulder. “Where are you going?”
“I took time out of my busy schedule to come talk to you and you want to talk to your bitch all night.” Her eye widened with fear when her back slammed against the brick wall.
“I was talking to my stepdaughter. Her father just died, remember?” His finger pointed at her nose, their faces so close that he could smell the salt in her sweat. “Don’t you ever fix your mouth to call Constance a bitch again. Do you understand me?" He didn’t flinch when he saw two men come out of the club. He didn’t have to tell her to follow him back to the car. She got in.
“I was out of line about your woman. I’m sorry for what happened to Jovan.”
“I don’t give a fuck about him. I want to know how you’ll pay us back.”
“We can adjust the figures on Trey’s business after we get control,” she said. Kourtney readjusted her shirt, doing her best to smooth out the wrinkles. “Discuss it with Constance and tell me what you want to do. I have another meeting to get to.” His nod granted her permission to get out.
Lawrence and the men shared a long stare after Kourtney had made it back inside their ring of protection. He rolled the window down so they could get a clearer look at his face.
Playing gangster, my ass.
They returned his nod.
He waited until they were back inside to pull off. The dash displayed Constance’s number.
“Hey.”
“What’s going on?”
“I can’t reach Daddy.”
“He probably let the battery on the phone run down again. I’m sure he’s fine. I’m on my way back.”
Darius took a moment to appreciate the house as he pulled into the driveway. It felt like it had been years. It looked different given his new perspective, not as large, not as spooky. The freshness of the forest wafted into his nose as soon as he opened the door. Thick lines of purple, orange, and red streaked across the sky.
The house was dark. He hadn't told anyone he was coming.
A smile spread across his face as he jogged up the stairs. He took a breath before slipping his key into the lock. It still fit. Everything seemed to be in order. No glasses in the sink, no books out of place, no smell suggesting that the baby was there. He decided not to call out, wanting to prolong the surprise. He also wanted the upper hand in the off chance that anybody knew he was in town.
The deeper he went into the house, the more dread he felt. The nursery was spotless, like no one had been in there in months, as were the bedrooms.
The hairs on his arms stood. Surely someone would have reached out if something was wrong. Just because he didn’t answer his phone didn’t mean he didn’t have it.
The partial beam of light coming from Reginald’s office made him pause.
He stopped on the edge of the doorway. He knocked. No one answered. He knocked again, the same silence greeted him. Holding the doorknob, he felt it give as he twisted it. Something blocked him from opening it all the way. He used his shoulder to barge into the room, stumbling over a large object as he entered the room.
A soft groan called his eyes to the ground.
“Dad.” He turned Reginald onto his back before shaking him.
Reginald’s skin was grey and cool to the touch. He was unresponsive when Darius shook him.
“Dad. Wake up.” He found Reginald’s cell phone, the last phone call telling him that he had been on the floor for at least ten minutes. A rustle in the bushes drew his attention to the window. He was able to catch a glimpse of someone running toward the trees.
He sprinted down the hallway, but no one was in sight when he reached the front door. He heard an engine start in the distance, followed by the sound of tires driving over gravel.
Darius dialed 911 as he ran back the office. A busy tone pounded in his ear. At Reginald’s side, he dialed the number again, a female operator answering. He began reciting the address before she could ask any questions.
“Sir I can’t understand you. I’m going to need you to calm down and take a few deep breaths.”
“My dad might be dead. Just send the fucking ambulance.”
She said, “Sir, getting angry is not going to help me help you.”
He took the breaths, inhaling and releasing in unison with her count. “I just got home and I found my dad on the floor.” He stuck two fingers in his neck. “There’s a faint pulse. No one else is home.” He recited the address twice.
“Everything will be okay. The units are on the way. I will stay on the line with you until they get there. For now, let’s keep breathing.” She commended him on a job well done. “You’re brave. You’re a hero.”
The words sounded strange coming from a woman who didn’t know him from the average joe.
Being a hero caused his disappearance. Yet he never was recognized or thanked for his sacrifice.
He grabbed Reginald’s hand. “It’s gonna be fine, Dad. I’m here.” He ran his hand over the top of his head and kissed his forehead. “I’m here, Dad. I’ll always be here.” He wiped the tear on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I left. I’ll never leave you alone again.”
8
The pressure around his bicep was the first thing Reginald felt when he woke up. His jerk alerted the resident doctor, who asked him to relax. She called out the blood pressure levels before writing them down.
“Where am I?”
“Hospital. You had a heart attack,” she said.
“A heart attack?”
“Tell me if you feel any pain.” She pressed down on the spot right about his liver.
The pain that shot through the area made him woozy to the point of making him slur.
“You also have the beginning stages alcohol fatty liver disease. How much do you drink on a daily basis?” His response was an incoherent moan. “I suggest you give it up all together if you don’t want to have to pay for a liver transplant. The attending doctor will be in shortly. Can I get you anything?"
"No," he said.
Lawrence and Darius entered the room. They helped him sit up before pulling chairs by his side.
He held Darius’ face, lifting his chin. “It’s good to see you, son.”
“I’m so sorry. This is my fault.”
“It’s not your fault. You didn’t pour the drinks down my throat. I knew better. I had this same issue a while back.”
Lawrence’s eyes widened. “What?”
“It happened while I was out of the country. I stopped drinking for a while. I should have put the two together.”
“I’m pouring out all your shit…never mind, I’ll just keep it at my house,” Lawrence said.
Reginald asked about Constance and Malcolm.
Lawrence hunched his shoulders. “I haven’t spoken to her in the last couple of hours.” He glanced in Darius’ direction. “Malcolm is still in St. Gilbert. I’ll try calling her.” Lawrence left the room.
Darius stared at his hands to avoid Reginald’s eyes. The guilt threatened to eat him alive. He couldn’t pull his mind away from the last time he saw Reginald. He had left his own father bleeding on the ground. He was so detached that he didn’t care if he died. Even more so, he turned his back on his family.
“I don’t deserve to be here.”
Reginald grabbed his arm before he had a chance to get up. “Yes, you do. And I don’t ever want to here you say that again. You saved my life. If anybody deserves to be here its you. Now sit down.” He released his grip after Darius’ bottom hit the seat. “Now explain to me where you went and why you were gone so long.”
He wasn’t sure if Reginald recalled the last time they saw each other. He didn’t risk being the one to remind him, so he told him that he took some time to get his head together. “Sometimes this family is a lot.”
“I know that’s right. Well, I’m glad you’re back and that you’re feeling alright. I want everyone to be back together. We shouldn’t be separated like we are.”
Lawrence quietly closed the door when he reentered. “No answer from Connie or Joi.” He didn’t let his angst show. He sent a quick text before dropping his phone into his pocket. “If you’re up for it, I got some news about the Trey situation.”
Darius asked, “What’s going on with Trey?"
Reginald and Lawrence exchanged a glance.
Lawrence showed no emotion when he told him that Titus was dead.
Darius didn’t blink for a long while. He leaned forward. Titus was the first person that let him know that he knew who he was and that it had no bearing on his ability to succeed. Titus was the first person to recognize him as a man. He was the first person to acknowledge his talents and his ability to contribute. His words, his acceptance, made it possible to bear his family’s rejection. It’s what made him turn.
“How long?”
“A few months ago,” Lawrence said. “The police found him in the alley way. He had a heart attack. Trey has it in his head someone murdered his father."
“You think whoever did it is going to come after Dad? Or the rest of us,” Darius asked. His mind raced. With his close connection to Titus, he convinced himself that they would soon be after him. The image of his first kill played before his eyes. He noticed Lawrence watching him, so he assumed a more relaxed position.
“No one’s coming after us except this liver of mine.” Reginald held his side as he laughed, which transitioned into a painful wheeze.
“What’s going on with Trey? Why is he a situation?”
“He thinks we had Titus killed and he’s been after our businesses. He’s burnt down some of our buildings and stole some of our product. He’s also been trying to steal our clients.”
Darius chuckled. “Now that Titus isn’t hovering over him anymore, he’s flexing his muscles.”
“And that’s a problem,” Lawrence said. “He’s building an army. We’ve been doing our best to avoid a war, but it looks like that might be unavoidable.”
Darius, the problem solver that he was, spent the next few minutes thinking of ways to be a voice of reason. He felt it was his responsibility to make it right. By any means necessary.
“There’s gotta be some way to work this out without getting violent. Him and RJ are cool, maybe we can get them together to talk.” He noticed the change in their expressions. The room suddenly turned cold. “What?”
