Pointe of No Return: Giving You All I Got (13 page)

“Yeah, yeah see if Nichelle wanna go. You’ll go, but when your man wanna go it’s a problem,” he teased.

“No, not true. I just know you not gone dance with me,” she told him.

“Dance? Baby it’s the strip club, we going to see the strippers dance,” he said.

“I wanna dance too, Papa,” she laughed.

“Let me see if Chi and them in town,” Papa told Demi, forgetting he really hadn’t been fucking with them like that. Tonight was just one of those nights where he wanted to forget the drama and the he said, she said, and have a good time.

Demi and Papa went back to his crib to chill out until the night passed and midnight approached. Demi watched a movie while Papa smoked.

“What you wearing? Papa asked his girlfriend.

Demi was so into the movie she shrugged her shoulders and turned the television up a little more, which basically told Papa to shut the hell up.

Once the movie was over, Demi now wanted all of Papa’s attention. She showered him with kisses and hugs.

“Nah, get back,” he told her, playfully.

“I love you, baby,” she told him, kissing his cheek and trying to straddle his lap, but Papa was blowing her off.

“You don’t love me, I been trying to see you for the longest,” he said.

Demi finally got onto his lap. “But I’m here now so what you gone do about it?” she asked him, removing the t-shirt she had slipped on as soon as she got to his house to relax and be comfortable in.

Demi wore a blush thong and the crotch area was sheer.

Papa stared at her face, ears iced out, compliments of him, since she gave her diamond earrings back to her mom.

Demi also wore a gold plated necklace with Papa’s name in cursive, “Roberto”, also compliments of Papa.

He knew Demi didn’t care for tattoos since she was a dancer, but he would make sure her first tattoo was his name right above her pussy.

“I missed you,” Demi told him, leaning down and kissing his lips.

“How much?” Papa asked, leaning back and stretching his legs.

Demi rested her ass in his lap and told him, “More than you’ll ever know.”

Papa loved Demi, it was different and that’s what he liked. He was still shocking himself on the daily how he was curving bitches, but none of them mattered. He just knew that after a while he would grow tired of the good girl act, but she wasn’t acting, Demi was his angel.

“Kiss me again,” Papa commanded.

Demi licked her bottom lip, slowly but surely he was making her a grown and honest woman. She would be a sex kitten real soon, but until then he enjoyed being the captain of her ship.

After making out and becoming reacquainted with each other’s mouths, Demi was hot and feeling bothered. She was ready for Papa to bless her with what God had blessed him with.

Demi whined, “Give it to me, Papa.”

Papa loved the way she said his name. Without even moving her out of the way or asking her to get up, Papa reached under her and pulled his dick from the comforts of his basketball shorts as Demi slid her thong to the side. Her finger grazed her clit and her pussy lips were already coated in cream.

“Open up, baby girl,” Papa told her, as he guided his dick into her warm pussy.

“Shit,” Demi cursed. She held her breath as Papa rocked her up and down his dick.

He was making her feel so good. “I thought you could dance, you better dance on this motherfucking dick,” he told her.

Demi closed her eyes, mentally placed herself on stage, and moved her hips in a slow, rhythmic motion.  Papa had to keep up with the sway of her hips and legs.

“Hell yeahhhhhhhhhhhhh!” Papa said, happily. He didn’t know what or how Demi was doing it, but it felt amazing. It was as if her pussy was playing hide and seek with his dick and at the same exact time, her hands massaged his balls as she bent over and nibbled on his neck.

Papa was being attacked in so many ways, he couldn’t do much but lie there on the couch and let shorty do her. And as always, Demi didn’t stop until Papa got his.

***

The couple sat in VIP and Demi was surprised she was having a good time. Papa kept putting cash money in her hands and she just made it rain the whole night. A few of his old hoes were in there dancing, but everyone one knew Papa was a loose cannon so none of them dared to fuck with him. It was apparent that the young girl, who no one had ever seen around the hood, was someone special. Demi laughed and smiled and danced in Papa’s lap and all around him. He enjoyed himself just because she was. Demi took her craft very serious. She stayed in the gym and the studio. So to her see turned up made him feel pretty damn good.

Papa sipped from the bottle and bobbed his head. He thought his eyes were playing tricks on him when he saw a familiar face. Papa may have been tripping due to the weed and alcohol he had been consuming throughout the night, but the bottom gold’s in the man’s mouth took him back to the night he got shot.

Papa removed Demi from his lap to stand and get a better look at the man and when the dude caught wind of Papa staring at him, he smiled and lifted a bottle of champagne as if saying, “Yeah it’s me, motherfucker”.

Without a second thought the hot-head pulled his gun from his waist and started firing as he made his way towards their section. Zoning out the screams and everyone running wild, Papa had to kill this nigga, and if not him, the hoe next to him.

              He didn’t blink once as he got closer, but they scurried away like cockroaches. 

Demi stood in place, scared as hell, with mascara running down her face.  She didn’t know what to do. Her best friend pulled her arm and told her to come the hell on, but Demi couldn’t stop staring at the madness and mayhem that Papa created.

Instead of Papa running in the opposite direction before the cops came, he chased the niggas out the back door. He was one man against a whole group of niggas.

Demi wondered what was going through his mind right now. Did he not consider his life or even his freedom? Not only was she scared as hell, but she was disgusted.

Her mother’s words replayed in her head,
Y’all are two different people, Demi.

And in that present moment, Demi knew her mother was right. She snapped out of her trance and allowed Nichelle and Brianna to pull her through the club and out of the door. Demi was in a daze and she could only pray Papa made it to his truck safely.

After hopping in the back seat and pulling her arms around her body, Demi leaned against the window as Nichelle weaved in and out of the confusion in the parking lot, honking her horn and cursing, trying to get them to the highway.

Pow.

Pow.

Pow.

Demi covered her ears, not wanting to hear the gunshots.

Pow.

Pow.

Rat.

Tatttt.

Rat.

Tat.

Rat.

Pow!

Tears ran down her face as she contemplated going to get Papa and demanding he cut the shit and get in the back seat with her and her friends.  She fumbled with her phone after finally pulling her hands from her ears and called Unc. It was four in the morning, but when he saw it was Demi he would answer. It was so loud in her background and in between Demi’s tears and the police sirens, Unc struggled to understand what she was saying.

“Is Papa okay?” was his only question over and over again.

“I don’t know, I left,” she cried.

“Alright, let me get up,” Unc told Demi. He made sure to not wake the young girl he had in the bed with him, nor the other tenderoni at the bottom of the bed.

Unc was going to put his foot up Papa’s ass. This hot-headed behavior was driving him crazy and if Papa kept it up he would be in a body bag before he turned twenty-five.

Unc had been running in circles around Papa since he was a little boy. If he wasn’t cursing the teachers out, he was skipping class to smoke weed and fuck his friends’ mamas. Papa then went to jacking niggas and Unc just knew he would be dead before he turned sixteen when he was robbing everybody left and right.

Unc needed Papa to get through his thick skull that he was amongst the cream of the crop now, he didn’t have to act like or do the shit he used to do.

If something was to happen to Papa……….Unc hated to have this thought, but if something was to happen to Papa it would be all his fault because he brought it all on himself with his erratic behavior.

***

Demi sat in the office of her instructor with tears running down her face.  She begged for them to understand, but no one cared to hear her out. This was the worst day of her life.

“I promise to God I don’t smoke, I was in a club and it was smoke. Please believe me. Please!” she begged.

“Demi, practice is about to start, this is not the end of the world. We will see you next year,” the dean of the academy told her.

Her instructor was so crushed by the news that she went to bat for Demi, telling the counsel it must be a mistake and maybe her tests was mixed up with another one of the girls. Dancers like Demi didn’t come around often and she couldn’t lose Demi, the season was about to start. She needed Demi Westbrook.

Demi picked her confidence and pride off the floor and left the office. She was astonished by the news. Making her way back to the locker room to gather her belongings and clear the locker she currently occupied, she heard the whispers and felt the stares.

While others were sad to see her go, many of the dancers felt like this was a blessing from God. Now they would get the chance to shine and prove themselves now that LITTLE MISS PERFECT, Demi Westbrook was gone.

Normally, the instructor stayed in her place and allowed the board members to handle the affairs of the students, but she knew the head master held a grudge against Demi because of who her mother was.

“I will be appealing this case on behalf of my student. It’s not fair that some of us don’t know how to let the past go. We just let the next Josephine Baker, the next DORANE WESTBROOK walk out of here. We have made a very big mistake,” she said, with tears in her eyes.

“Is that all, Ms. Wilkinson? We have a show to put together,” the head master asked. Ms. Wilkinson shook her head and left the office.

It was a shame that black women hated on the next woman so much.  There was enough hatred from other races, but to have it amongst each other was pitiful.

Demi sat in her car, crying for hours. She couldn’t bring herself to leave and go home. What was at home for her? Nothing.  Demi loved dance; it was her life. While all her other friends were stressing about finals and midterms, Demi could dance all day.

Papa called her phone for the thousandth time. She finally answered and told him, “STOP CALLING ME!” and hung the phone up. She had enough shit going on and Papa and his affairs were the least of her concerns.

Gossip in the dance industry spread faster than a wildfire. Demi knew her mother’s phone would be ringing off the hook in less than thirty minutes.  She couldn’t believe she embarrassed her parents in this way, especially when she didn’t even smoke.

Papa gave her a few shotguns now and then, but it couldn’t have been enough for it to show up in her system, and get her kicked out of school for a year.

Demi was preparing for a show and was supposed to be auditioning for the lead role when they randomly drug tested a few of the girls, her being one of them. Demi thought nothing would be wrong so she didn’t complain when they administered the test. The results didn’t even cross her mind.

Papa called Demi’s phone one more time and she sent him to ignore immediately. He killed the dude’s baby mama and the man who shot at him was in the hospital with a pierced lung. Papa had to give Polo a couple hundred thousand dollars for the people at the club to keep their mouths shut, on top of paying for some evidence to go away.

The Underworld had been silent these past few days, so Papa already mentally prepared for the worst. He knew they all had something to say, but he was ready to defend himself.

Papa couldn’t let a nigga shoot at him in his own hood and not retaliate, and he still didn’t know what the beef was and that bothered him more than anything.

When Demi made it to her condo, Papa was parked in her guest parking spot. He hopped out of his truck and came to her window. Demi locked the doors.

“Go away,” she told him.

“Man, come on. You can’t keep ignoring me.”

“How did you find me?” she asked, through the cracked window.

“Sasha,” he said, nonchalantly.

Demi rolled her eyes. She was so tired of hearing about this wanna-be private investigator, Sasha.

“Let me talk to you for a second.” he said.

Demi wasn’t in the mood to talk. “Please leave me alone,” she begged.

“No,” Papa told her.

Demi got out of the car, hitting Papa with the door when she stepped out.

“Two minutes,” she told him.

“Why you look so mad?” he asked.

“Do you care about me?” she snapped.