Page 21 of Nocturnal Sins
CHAPTER SEVEN
Samira
After Santana’s talented fingers rubbed my pussy until I came over and over, I needed another shower. A cold one.
I hoped it would help me sober up too because what the fuck was that shit in the kitchen? How did we even end up in that predicament?
Everything happened way too fast and I didn’t know how to unpack it all. I sat on my bed taking the blood red polish off my toes and fingernails when a knock on the door nearly made me jump clean out of my skin. I didn’t know who to expect on the other side, Papa or Santana.
To be honest, the thought of either one scared me a little.
I rubbed my palms on my thighs hoping to rub away some of my nerves before opening the door. Papa stood on the other side, folding his bulky arms across his chest. He stared at me with green eyes that looked exactly like my own.
“Mija, I want to talk to you.” He didn’t ask if I was busy or anything. He walked in and sat on my bed after he moved my nail stuff out of the way. His face contorted at the sharp smell of polish remover.
“What’s up, Papa?” I smiled and sat on the bed beside him. I tried to sell him my most innocent smile but he wasn’t buying it. That wasn’t a good sign.
“I know what you were downstairs doing with Santana before I walked in and I’m not happy about it, young lady. I can’t believe you would do something like that. It’s so out of character for you.”
Heat.
Blazing and unbearable heat burned through my chest at his words.
“What? How did you…” I couldn’t speak. The ability to complete sentences vacated my brain.
“I’m your father. I look at things with a parental eye. It’s something you and Santana don’t have yet because you’re still kids.” He pressed his fingertips together and exhaled through flared nostrils. “You’re still a kid, Samira. You’re still under my roof. I’m still responsible for you. Your brother is a different story but you?”
“Papa, I can explain. It was a weak moment and it just…it felt…”
“I don’t want to hear it, Samira. Your brother shouldn’t have let you do that. You’re so close to graduating and you want to fuck it up now? Don’t make drinking a habit. I’m not going to be able to watch you when you go to Dartmouth. I’m not sending you to school to drink and party.
I know Santana told you why he got kicked out of school. Don’t let him influence you, princess. You’re a good girl. I want you to go to school, do your best and get your degree.”
My chest deflated with relief. My shoulders rolled forward and I rested my elbows on my shaky knees. Drinking. He realized I was drinking. Thank god.
Normally, I would be hyperventilating if Papa found out I was doing something like drinking. In comparison to what I was actually doing when Papa walked in, drinking was nothing.
To Papa, it was everything though. He didn’t even know I cursed. To him, I was a princess.
“I’m sorry, Papa. It wasn’t Santana’s fault though. He couldn’t stop me. He’s my big brother. He’s not my father. I just wanted to blow off some steam. I got into a fight with Brady. You know the guy I brought past the restaurant?”
I had to steer his mind in another direction. Not that I thought he would figure out what Santana and I were doing on the kitchen table but still…
“You let that damn boy stress you out to the point of knocking back tequila, Samira? Come on now. This is exactly what I want you to stay away from. No boys, you hear me?” Papa shook his finger at me and I groaned.
“I know how to keep my priorities straight. It was a momentary slip-up.”
“I don’t want anymore momentary slip-ups. If you stay away from boys and booze this shit won’t happen.” He rubbed the space between his brows and groaned. “I only want the best for you.”
“I know. I promise to leave the boys alone, Papa.”
“Boys and liquor, mija.”
“Boys and liquor,” I repeated with a sigh.
He eyed me for a moment then stood to his feet. He said, “I’m putting you on punishment. I want you to go to school, practice, and home for the next week.” That’s all I did anyway but I acted like I was upset about it to appease him. He seemed pleased enough.
“I’m sorry, Papa. It won’t happen again,” I promised him.
