Pointe of No Return: Giving You All I Got (8 page)

              She warned Papa that her schedule would change drastically, but he brushed her off every time. He didn’t want to talk about the nights that hadn’t even come yet. Demi was a planner and Papa was just thankful to open his eyes every day.

“What you thinking about, bae?” Papa asked.

“Our future,” she told him, smiling sheepishly.

“Future, huh? You’re really feeling a nigga ain’t you?” Papa said proudly.  He was feeling damn good. Demi Westbrook and Papa. It had a ring to it if you asked him.

“Just a lil bit,” she said, playing things cool.

If Papa knew that Demi stared at him while he slept some nights he would probably think she was a creep, but she was always praying for his safety. Papa was special to her, very special and now that he was an important aspect of her life she stayed on her knees, praying that danger stayed far away from him.

“I’m feeling you too Demi, just hold me down, ‘cause I’ma hold you down,” he told her straight up.

And again, Papa and these sayings, “Hold you down”. Demi just nodded her head as she always did.

For Papa to be a hustler or whatever he called himself, Demi was often surprised at how much he knew about politics and what was going on in the news. He had an opinion about everything. Over dinner and even dessert, he and Demi would go back and forth discussing current events.

Demi was unaware of the people that Papa hung around, but niggas like Nasir and Malachi, they kept him informed on what was going on.

Nasir would preach to him all the time. “The only thing worse than a dumb nigga is an ignorant nigga. Don’t be ignorant, Papa. Know your rights, and know what’s going on around you. Man can never take that from you.”

Papa didn’t look up to to many people, but men such as the ones he considered brothers, those were damn near his role models. He would never tell them cocky bastards that, but he loved and admired them so much, especially Malachi. His word was bond and in most situations he was the only one who could keep him calm and level-headed.

“Can we go lay down now?” Demi asked.

Papa shook his head. He would never interfere with anything she had going on, especially dance. But, Papa was worried about Demi. It was obvious she was obsessed with dance, but on the outside looking in Papa felt like Demi was overexerting herself. Unbeknownst to Papa, it wasn’t her who was going hard in the paint, it was her damn mama.

***

Nestled away in the suburbs of Jersey, Dorane was on her fourth muscle relaxer for the day and feeling real good. She poured a glass of chilled Port, her all-time favorite wine. The housekeeper had fresh cheese and grapes already on a dish in the refrigerator. Dorane was set for the night with a pill, fruit and cheese and her wine. Now all she needed was her fuzzy socks and the corner of the couch. Dorane already had one of her favorite movies on pause, so once she got settled in the den all she had to do was get comfortable and press play.

Dorane sighed once she realized she was home, yet another night by herself. Demi didn’t bother to call or text her to tell her she was okay. Her husband was God knows where and Dorane didn’t have it in her to call and see where he was. She prayed that the pill mixed with the wine would send her to sleep a little earlier than usual. The longer Dorane stayed up, the more she suffered with her anxiety. Dorane would boggle her mind down thinking of the good ole days and what could have been. She would then think about her lost child and spend the rest of the night worrying about her baby girl. She had little going on outside of stressing over Demi’s future and hosting charity events. She felt washed up and dead. Dorane knew Demi had met someone and it made her furious. Demi was her best friend, shopping buddy, and movie partner. The entire summer was flying by and Demi and Dorane hadn’t even been in the same room long enough to discuss where they would travel to before school started for Demi. Dorane had been too scared to text and ask in fear that Demi would tell her she wasn’t interested in hanging with her mama anymore. Dorane sighed one last time before tuning into the TV. As Dorane stared at the screen she was almost jealous, just a tad.

***

“I be so lonely at the top!” Demi rapped from the top of her lungs. Two months ago you couldn’t pay her to listen to Rap or Hip-Hop, but when you’re around a real nigga the majority of the time, Demi was now a fan of Jay-Z and a host of others. 

Her friends eyed her in the club wondering what had gotten into Demi. They weren’t complaining though, it was about time she learned to turn up.

When Papa invited her to Miami for the Fourth of July, she didn’t hesitate to say yes, as long as her friends could come to keep her company. Papa didn’t protest, knowing he wouldn’t want to be around Demi’s inquisitive ass the entire weekend. He was shocked when Demi booked their plane tickets and made reservations at the Executive Suite at the EPIC Kimpton hotel.

Papa clearly had forgotten who Demi was. Traveling was not new to her. In fact, she loved Miami so much her and her friends left on a Wednesday morning just to fuck the malls up. When Papa arrived Friday afternoon, Demi had already run through a few racks and still hadn’t touched the funds he sent her with. She refused to accept anything he gave her. Papa knew Demi was far from a gold digger so he was now ready to spoil her, but she still declined him every time.

Papa texted her for the second time, he was anxiously waiting for a response. “You good?” he asked.

Her cell phone was the last thing on her mind. Demi had a few sips of Nichelle’s drink so she was really feeling herself now. The mini Gucci dress she wore fit her body perfectly. Her toned legs were on display in the gold platform pumps she wore. Demi’s curly hair was pressed bone-straight, but the club was so humid her hair had returned to its natural state.

“Girl, Papa texting me looking for you. How he get my number?” Briana asked Demi.

“He’s always had your number. Remember, you gave him mines?” she told her friend.

“He said bring your ass back to the telly,” Briana said, repeating the text message that was in all caps.

Demi smacked her lips. “Man.” She wasn’t ready to leave.

“Well, I’m sleepy anyway,” Courtney whined.

“I’m not.” Demi turned around and threw her hands back in the air.

“Girl, Papa gon’ come looking for us, let’s go. It’s almost four in the morning anyway,” Briana said. The dude she met at the mall two days ago had been texting her all night filling her head up with bullshit, and being that Briana was a lil tipsy, tonight would be his lucky night.

“Come on y’all.” Nichelle led the girls out of the club and into a cab that was parked in the front of the club.

They had rented a car, but decided to cab it to the club, considering South Beach was full of traffic and they knew they would be drinking. After paying more than enough to skip the line and get in the club without proper identification, it was all worth it. They all enjoyed themselves.

Demi told her girls goodnight after she spotted Papa sitting in the lobby waiting on her. He had asked Briana to text him once they pulled up.

Papa didn’t like the lil outfit Demi had on, but he kept his comments to himself. He had never in life cared about what a girl had on, considering he mostly fucked strippers, but Demi was his and he could only imagine how many thirsty ass niggas was in her face in the club.

Demi didn’t want to hang with him and his people so he told her to have fun with her girls.

Their night ended pretty early, around two. When Papa made it to the hotel with a hard dick and full balls it was time for Demi to bring her ass home. After he hit her up a few times and didn’t receive a response, he texted her home girl and had Demi summoned.

Demi stared at him with the lovey-dovey eyes as he stood and took her hand in his.

“Hi,” she said, nervously.

This was Papa’s first time seeing her really dressed up. Demi went to her friends’ room earlier and got dressed with them so Papa didn’t see her before she went out.

“I don’t like this dress,” he told her, tugging at the hem.

“I won’t wear it again, Papa,” she told him, leaning her head on his shoulder as they walked to the elevator.

“You missed me?” she asked him once they were on the elevator, and Demi stood in between his legs looking up at him. Papa’s eyes were low and stained red, while hers appeared glossy.

“You been drinking?” he asked, palming her behind.

Demi smiled at him and used her two fingers to show that she only had a little.

“Amateur,” he teased.

Demi laughed and kissed his lips, but Papa didn’t kiss her back. He was too busy caught up with how good her ass felt in his hands.

As much as he touched her ass, tonight it felt like a pillow and he was so intrigued.

“Kiss me,” she whined, puckering her lips up towards his.

Papa bent down and planted a kiss on her forehead. “I’m about to do more than that, babe,” he said, knowingly.

Demi prayed he wasn’t just talking shit like he normally did. There were so many nights she thought it would happen and nothing would spark, not even the damn candles she lit to set the mood.

Papa rejected her so many times she questioned herself, but he told her the time would come when she wasn’t looking for it.

“We will see,” she mumbled, and turned around to get off the elevator.

Papa pulled her back close and placed her hand on his dick. “You feel that shit?” he asked her, staring in her eyes, wanting to see her facial expressions change right before him.

Demi nodded and ran her hands up against the fabric of the Jordan basketball shorts he wore.

“Alright then, bet that,” he told her, cockily.

Papa opened the door to their hotel and lit a blunt while he watched Demi take her time undressing to take a bath. He loved her body, her smile, her conversation, the way she slept, how she parlayed around his house as if it was hers. Her confidence, her passion about dance, Demi’s aura alone took him in.

Papa couldn’t keep it cool with her any more. He wanted to build with Demi, be with Demi, confide in Demi, hell and if she wanted his sinful ass, he would pray with Demi too. She made him better in ways she wasn’t even aware of. Demi kept him out of trouble. He made his way to her most nights before the midnight hour.

Demi didn’t like the smell of smoke so he rarely smoked around her. Demi didn’t feel comfortable with him shooting dice so Papa didn’t really fuck around with the gambling as much as he used to.

“You coming?” she asked him, before she walked into the bathroom. Demi had been watching Papa watch her undress and she wondered what thoughts ran across his mind. Papa had been quiet the whole trip and she prayed he wasn’t about to cut her off. She couldn’t imagine life without him now.

He shook his head and told her, “Go ahead.”

Demi smiled at him before closing the door and tending to her hygiene.

              Papa sat on the couch and enjoyed his smoke. He loved Miami, this is where he wanted his uncle to come and enjoy the fruits of his nephew’s labor, but he knew Andre wouldn’t move to Florida. He would complain about the humidity and the food and probably everything else.

Papa hadn’t told Demi, but he was staying in Miami for a little while to handle some business for Polo. Plus, Demi had practice and shit all next week so she shouldn’t trip too much. It was imperative that Demi spend more time with her folks. Although he didn’t give a fuck if he never met them, he didn’t want Demi flexing on her family. He didn’t have a mama and daddy so Papa was unaware of how that shit went, but according to her social media pages Demi was the apple of her parent’s eye and now, she was Papa’s too.

“Are you going to come in here with me?” Demi’s voice took him away from his thoughts.

              He dropped the blunt. “Damn,” he mumbled. Demi had a towel wrapped around her body and her hair appeared to be damp.

“Yeah, here I come.” Papa picked the blunt up and put it out in the ashtray that was near.

He made sure the door was locked and turned the lights off in the front of the suite before making his way to the bed the two of them had been occupying since their stay in Miami.

Demi sat on the edge of the bed, lotioning her arms, legs, and feet, something she did every time she stepped out of the shower.

“Did you have fun tonight with your friends?” Demi asked him.

Papa told her yeah.

“Good, I was thinking we could do brunch tomorrow. Everyone.” She looked up and smiled at him.

Papa ignored her. After the night they were about to have he doubted if Demi could even sit up good, let alone get dressed and go out to eat. Papa knew they would be ordering room service because he planned on giving his shorty the BUSINESS. He removed the white under shirt he had thrown on to get Demi from the lobby.

“Why you looking at me like that?” Papa asked, with a smirk.

No one could tell her that Papa wasn’t the finest man walking, and if they did then Demi would simply respect their opinion and keep it moving. His creamy complexion, chinky eyes, long eyelashes, long and wavy hair paired with his toned, tattooed body and the tiny gap between his two front teeth were her favorite parts of him.