Pointe of No Return: Giving You All I Got (20 page)

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Authors: Nako

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #African American, #Urban, #Women's Fiction, #Genre Fiction

BOOK: Pointe of No Return: Giving You All I Got
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He didn’t even hear his uncle. His eyes glossed over at how angelic she looked.

“Rob!” Unc called his name again.

Papa turned his head and in that moment.

CLAP.

CLAP.

CLAP.

POW.

POW.

“Papaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!” Unc yelled his nephew’s name as his body flew back in the house and fell to the floor.

His head turned to the left with his eyes looking at Unc and blood gurgling out of his mouth. He struggled to tell Unc something, but he was too busy running out the house shooting at the car that was now speeding down the street. After they were gone and there was nothing he could do about it, Unc fished the phone from his back pocket, and with trembling hands he called 911.

He never turned around to check on Papa, he couldn’t. He refused to see his nephew like that, especially after the moment they just had. He had faith that Papa would be okay.

12

One Year Later

Demi videotaped Papa holding their son as he blew his candles out.

“Happy Birthday Ry!” she said, smiling. 

Papa then ducked his head into the cake, which caused Ry to cry hysterically.

“Why did you do that?” she snapped.

Unc laughed and so did everyone else.

“He’s a boy, leave him alone,” Papa told her.

Demi shook her head. She handed the video camera to Malachi and went to the kitchen to get a warm washcloth so she could clean her baby. If she would have known that Papa would ruin his Gucci birthday outfit she would have changed her son’s clothes and threw him on a onesie from Oshkosh.

She bent down under the sink and looked for a washcloth, but heard her cell phone ringing on the counter. She hit her head on the cabinet as she rose trying to see who was calling her. Anyone she considered family or even the few friends she had were all in their living room celebrating her son’s birthday.

Her son, Ryan J. Huffington, ended up coming two months early and after much prayer, he finally came home after living in an incubator since birth. Demi didn’t get to capture the moment of holding her child for the first time and kissing his forehead, she didn’t get to see his eyes or cradle him near her chest. Immediately after pushing him out due to stress, he was rushed into surgery.

Her child was her pride and joy, and her personal miracle from God. She was told on multiple occasions that he wouldn’t make it, but Demi thought otherwise and every night as she laid her child to sleep, she thanked Him.

Demi looked at her phone and her heart stopped as she saw the first number she ever memorized, the number to her house. It had to be her mother.

Demi hadn’t talked to her mother since the day she found out she was carrying Ryan and her mother basically dismissed her from her life and her presence. She spent months reaching out to her mom, but after Papa was shot at and with the birth of her child, her mother became a distant memory.

She didn’t think to call her mom or her daddy, and she forbade her friends to tell their parents. It’s not that she was embarrassed because she loved her family, it was too close to perfect. Demi was in a happy place and her parent’s opinions would only dim her light, and she didn’t need that right now.

The day Papa was shot at was the worst day of her life. Unc hyped the situation up, making it worse than what it was, but when Papa was lifted on the gurney and into the ambulance, he was still trying to tell someone he had on bullet-proof vest. Finally, his shirt was torn away and it was then determined that the young man would live.

Demi was still livid and she threatened to move away and take her baby with her, but Papa promised he was changing some shit around and over his dead body would he allow Demi to leave him.

She made him promise on his hospital bed that he would nip whatever he had going on that made people want to bring harm to him.

The mystery still remained though. Who had put the hit out on him? A rumor was circulating around the hood that the dude who shot at him was an acquaintance of Malachi, the guy he met with that day because he wanted to get in with The Underworld.

Papa didn’t believe that shit at all. If he wasn’t so focused on stacking his bread for his family he would have got to the bottom of the rumor, but he let it go. In his heart he believed it was Nasir, but since his hospitalization he started coming back around.

Papa and Nasir had a sit-down one day, but because both men had egos bigger than their dicks it was hard for one person to step up and apologize, so they shared a blunt and shook hands and that was about it.

Now and then, Papa randomly thought about how Sasha was found outside of the dance studio Demi owned and how some random li’l boys robbed her.

He tried to not think the worst about his brother, especially since Demi was now involved. Papa would never bring harm to Jordyn, so he just prayed that Nasir had the same respect for him and his girl.

Demi finally answered the phone and in a very nervous tone she said, “Hello?”

“Demi?” her mother asked to be sure. She was worried that Demi changed her number.

She felt the tears forming in her eyes. “Yes mom, it’s me,” she said.

“Go Ryan!” she heard Malachi’s girlfriend say.

Demi moved further down the hallway so she could have some privacy.

“Is this a bad time?” Dorane asked.

“No, it’s not,” she told her mom.

“Oh, okay, good. Well, how you are?” Dorane started with the pleasantries.

“Well, and you?” she asked. It was crazy how even though she hadn’t spoken to her mother in almost a year and a half, she could feel her mother through the phone. It was as if Dorane was watching her. She stood up straight and articulated every single word she said.

“I’m fine, clean, very clean, too clean actually. Not even my glass of wine before bed,” Dorane joked.

Demi had to smile. She knew how much her mother loved wine. They even had a cellar in the basement.

“Oh yes, you’re doing well,” she giggled.

Dorane felt her daughter’s smile and laugh through the phone, and she realized that she missed Demi more than she thought.

“Well, I was calling because a friend of mine told me that Open Enrollment is coming up and they need fresh talent,” Dorane told her.

Demi shook her head. Why in the world did she think her mom actually cared about her and was calling to make things right?

“I bet,” Demi said, in a dry and uninterested tone.

“You don’t sound excited. Don’t tell me you’ve given up on your dreams, Demi,” Dorane asked, disappointed.

“It’s not that,” she told her mom.

Papa came into the room. “Who you on the phone with?” he asked, eying her suspiciously.

She hung the phone up instantly. “No one.” She stood and walked past him.

Papa held her arm. “Is everything okay?” he asked.

Demi smiled and told him, “Yes, babe.”

They didn’t argue and they rarely had problems. Demi was very happy and content in her relationship. Papa was the perfect man and father. He still ran the streets, but she could tell that his last shooting gave him a different outlook on life.

Little did Demi know the new him came before the bullets pierced his stomach, it just served him confirmation.

Demi played the perfect hostess for the rest of the afternoon and when everyone had cleared the condo, she was pooped. Papa had just come from putting a very restless Ryan to sleep when he walked in on Demi washing dishes.

“That li’l nigga is not tired,” he told Demi.

“Watch him sleep all night,” she said, knowing her baby like the back of her hand.

“Today was cool,” he said.

Demi turned around and smiled. “Seventeen more birthdays to go,” she said.

“Shit, don’t remind me,” he joked, pulling out a sack of weed and preparing to roll him a blunt.

“My mother called me,” she blurted out.

Papa redirected his attention from the marijuana to his girlfriend of almost two years.

“That’s who you were on the phone with when I walked in on you earlier?” he asked.

Demi turned the sink off and faced him. “Yes,” she answered his question.

“So why did you lie?” he asked.

“I don’t know, I just didn’t wanna tell you while we had company.”

“Damn, what else you lying about? Do you really be at the gym when you say you do?” he asked.

He was taking this conversation in the wrong direction, which was typical Papa fashion.

“What are we arguing about?” she asked.

“Nothing, just don’t lie about simple shit, all we got is trust,” he told her straight up.

“I don’t lie to you and the point of this conversation was that my mother called. She called
me
,” she told him.

Papa shrugged his shoulders. “So.”

“I don’t know why I expected you to understand, you don’t have a mama,” she said, and turned back around to finish washing the dishes.

She had no idea that her words sent daggers through him. It hurt, but he would never tell her that. Papa shook his head and gathered the weed and rolling papers along with his keys. Two minutes later, Demi heard the front door slamming, and she knew he was mad.

Demi would call him later, but for now she would enjoy the peace and quiet. Her baby was sleep and she needed to sit and think some shit through.  Dancing again didn’t sound too bad. She was in shape and she danced every day, so it wasn’t like she was rusty or needed intense training to prepare for the audition.

She went to check on Ryan before going to run a bath. After the water filled the tub, Demi undressed and slid in. She laid her head back and took a deep breath.

“I want you to do whatever makes you happy,” Papa’s voice came out of nowhere.

Demi sat up. “You scared the shit out of me!” she told him.

Papa came in and sat on the toilet. “If you want your mom in your life that’s cool, but she not coming around my son with her bad attitude,” he continued.

She knew he stepped out to call Unc or Malachi and Nasir because everything he said sounded rehearsed, but she knew he meant well. Papa struggled with expressing his feelings, but not for Ryan. He watched Ryan sleep all the time and would stare at him as she breastfed.

“Papa, I will always do what makes me happy. I’m happy right now,” she told him.

“I know babe, but we both know you miss dancing. Before you met me that’s what you wanted to do,” he said.

“I’m at the studio every day,” she reminded him.

Papa shook his head. “It’s not the same and we both know that.”

“I’m going to see her, but I will let her know I’m not the same Demi, I’m a grown woman,” she told him.

Papa smiled. He was proud of the woman she was becoming. Demi made sure home was taken care of before she made any moves. She had slowly started coming around the women and wives of The Underworld. Now and then she kicked it with her girls from high school, but everyone was in different places. What was fun to them didn’t interest Demi anymore.

Her definition of a turnt up night was her and Papa having sex all night while Unc babysat.

She enjoyed cooking and crocheting, but with her mother calling, suggesting she audition for the upcoming enrollment at the Academy it gave Demi that push back into her old life, and it scared and excited her at the same damn time.

“I love you,” he told her.

“What made you say that?” she asked.

“I don’t think I told you today,” he said.

“You didn’t!” She stuck her tongue out at him.

“Well shit, since you dancing again I’m going to smoke outside, but hurry, I’m horny,” he told her, and stood up and left the bathroom.

Demi shook her head at her bossy man. “Okay boo,” she told him.

After enjoying her bath, she wrapped her body in a terry plush towel by Ralph Lauren and tiptoed down the hallway, dripping the remainders of her bath on the hardwood floors.

Papa asked her was she ready for a house, but she knew they would be tempted to fill the rooms up with more kids. For now she was content with his loft and her condo, they went back and forth throughout the week.

“Babe,” Demi called his name.

She found Papa eating around Ryan’s cake. She went towards him and he stuck his finger out and she licked the icing off of his finger and eyed him sexily.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked, with a smirk on his face.

Demi removed her towel and dropped to her knees.

“You,” she told him, before taking his dick in her mouth.

“Oh for real?” he managed to get out before he started moaning and grunting under his breath.

Gone were the days where she didn’t know what to do or how to do it.  The days of her waiting around for Papa to fuck her were distant memories. As soon as her pussy pulsed, Demi was jumping his bones.

There were plenty of occasions when he would be chopping it up with his homies and Demi would call moaning in the phone, and in less than thirty minutes Papa would be home and having her bent over the bed or the couch, the counter too.

“Shit,” he groaned, as she used her tongue to suck his dick and massage his balls at the same time.

Papa struggled with concentration because she was mentally pulling him in different directions. Half of him wanted to fuck her mouth while the rest of him wanted to pick her petite body up and have Demi bouncing on his dick while he stood tall.

“Fuck it,” he told her, pulling his dick from her pouty lips.

Demi rolled back, crossed her legs and flipped over. She was always doing some magical, abracadabra shit.

“Bend down, you know what to do,” he commanded, smacking her on the ass.

Demi automatically assumed Papa’s favorite position and prepared herself for the break-in.

He entered her with ease, thanking the heavens above that her pussy was already soaking for him.

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