Page 94 of Not My Type (Not My Type #1)

Nickoi

“Come mi need fi talk to yuh,” Mommy puts her arms around me as we walk away from the crowd.

“Bout wah? A mi key mi want,” I say angrily if mi nuh kill smaddy today mi nuh name Nickoi.

“Listen to me… mi nuh want everybody hear, but a’ Adonis dweet,” she says, and I just stare at her.

“Wah?” I ask.

Nuh yuh uncle that?

“Yuh stinking uncle,” she says. I smile, shaking my head, but my face turns serious again just as quickly. Anytime yuh do that yuh really mad.

“Uncle Adonis?” I ask in shock. “And mi and him nav’ nutt’n so wah dis bout?”

“Him did ask fi part a the business and mi tell him seh mi nuh inna that so it look like a dat mek him a try hurt you,” she breathes out. Hurt me?

“If dem did offa me, me woulda get all 10 shots,” I say. Mi been a drop mi guard from when, enuh. Nickoi anything can happ’m.

“Dem just pull up sudden and start aim offa Zara ‘cause mi draw mi gun fi hold dem off, but den mi realize a she dem really deh ‘pon. Dat’s why mi just run go to har,” I say. S’pose dem did make sup’m do har?

A swear mi would a bun dung the whole Jamaica.

And I still might, no man nuh violate mi ooman.

“Mi cya believe so much problem in a one day,” she hisses.

Mi deh yah deep inna mi thoughts, a try figure out why the wasteman woulda try hurt man ooman and not me—when a me have di drugs business weh him want.

“Maybe it’s a warning,” I say after a while.

“Mi a think say him did a try fi kill her fi scare me so him get wah him want. A so mi see it. Cas dem d’evu know Zara.

” A the wrong person him mess wid enuh. A swear.

“Gi mi the key,” I press and she sighs.

“Nickoi mi nuh wah yuh go get hurt enuh. Yuh fren dem already gone after dem just leave it and gwan to yuh ooman because she need you right now. Mi will mek sure seh him stay away,” Mommy pleads.

Foolishness. Nah back dung from no man weh a try hurt mi or Zara. Since a war him want a war him go get. “Mommy gimme the key,” I say in deadpan. The more mi think bout this the angrier mi get.

“Nickoi wah mek yuh stubborn like yuh father so!?” She raises her voice at me.

“Yuh think seh mi nuh want him dead? Yuh think him wouldn’t kill me too a just the way how him a try play mind games fi mash we up.

The only problem is yuh get shot and yuh d’even care bout it and a talk bout yuh wah key fi go war and yuh not in the right state.

This is not you! You nah think right now and a anger a speak.

All now yuh nuh think bout weh yah drive go and weh yuh plan fi do! ” she shouts. I stay silent.

Gutta is nearby but the others can’t hear because of the distance.

“Yuh think mi nuh know seh yuh dawk and stay just like yuh father? But look weh him deh... him dead. A times like this when yuh disoriented yuh get knock when yuh nah think right. Yuh father did smart enuh but because he was drunk he wasn’t in his right state of mind so Von could a kill him.

Yuh feel seh him could a do that if he was sober?

Yuh mussi mad.” She says firmly before she looks at Gutta. “Yuh understand Gutta?”

“No joke,” he nods. She looks back at me.

“Your father was the most ruthless man I know and mi nuh see back nobody like him until yuh start get older mi a see seh you stay just like him more and more. Yuh vulnerable right now, so just listen and fall back and think about it. Wi a go deal wid him yes but not right now. Mek him think seh him win fi now man cause him nuh know me and him nuh know you,” her eyes lowers. Mamz a General.

“Real meds,” Gutta chimes in. “Dem always seh the mother dem know wah best fi yuh, nuh matter how foolish it sound in a we ears.”

You a listen Nickoi? My annoying subconscious asks.

“Anuh lie we know how Nickoi stay already but right now him get shot, him shake up bout the wul Zara thing, him lick him head and we just bury Gina. God man wah more yuh wah happen!” her eyes tired.

“Ah. Today a Saturday,” I drag my vape, their eyes on me.“Monday nah pass and him nuh dead.”

“Anything yuh seh mi Don,” Gutta agrees. Mommy simply nods.

“Just be smart and careful mi son,” she press a kiss to my cheek. We stop talking when we hear footsteps.

approaching. It’s Zara. She doesn’t say anything. She simply hugs me and I wrap my arms around her. “You alright?” I ask, looking down at her and she says no.

“Mi wah go home,” her voice muffled, her face in my chest. I sigh in defeat.

“Ah.” I finally pull away, feeling the pain creeping up.

Mi used to getting shot, a just part o’ di game.

Shit hurt, but I’ll make it back home and get my aunt to help.

Neva’ been the type fi run to doctors. They’re liability, too many questions, too many eyes.

I did throw some white rum on the wound, and drank some herbal drink. Mi nuh dead yet, so it a work...

While Zara chats with my Mamz, I slide in the car, cooling while Gutta and I lock in on the plan—how we a guh cut the wasteman points short.

We keep it low, voices steady, breaking down every angle, every weak spot.

Soon as Zara hops in, we dead the convo like it never happened.

I shift, pulling my jacket over the graze on my side.

The engine hums, and just like that, we peel out of Montego Bay, the weight of what’s coming heavy in the air. .

We make a few stops, grabbing food and snacks before we hit the road again. Zara quiet the whole ride, and it’s mad awkward ‘cause she always deh chat or ask some kinda question. Now—nothing. Just silence, heavy in di air, like she’s lost in her own head.

“Sorry about all the drama today,” my voice the lowest it’s ever been.

“Nickoi yuh never cause nutt’n so yuh nuh affi apologize,” she sighs.

“Mi know, but mi sorry you affi go through all a dat.” She stays silent for a while before turning to me, eyes glossy with unshed tears. What’s up with Zara and these mood swings? She was just fine a minute ago.

“If you never tell me yuh love me in Hawaii, today woulda prove it,” she mutters.

“Like, you literally wrap me up just fi shield me from the shots and end up gettin’ hit instead.

” Tears spill over as she shakes her head.

“Mi nah ever forget that,” she chokes out, chest rising hard with every sob.

I reach over, thumb brushing away the wet tracks on her face.

“I love you,” she whispers, voice breaking.

“I love you too,” soon as I say that, she tries to kiss me but I can’t when my eyes are focused on the road.

“Hold o—” she clicks on the indicator. Watch ya? I chuckle and pull over and she climbs over on me. She nah waste no time. “Zara wah you a do?” she’s acting different. Mi kinda like this Zara...but mi love the good girl Zara more.

She sits on my lap, crashing her lips against mine.

I grip her waist and kiss her back, deep and hungry, until Gutta honks passing by.

Probably a wonder why mi stop. I blow the horn.

Zara pulls away, breathless, flashing that innocent little smile.

Jah jah. All wah gwaan, she kno’ wah she a do enuh.

She slides into her seat, and buckles up like nothing happened.

My jaw tight, grip locked on the wheel, pants straining.

I floor the pedal, wishing I could fly home just to finish what she started.

“Why you a act so wild?” I have to ask her. Mi like it, but mi concerned.

“Because I want to,” she shrugs. I chuckle, legs rocking.

“Yuh drink?” Mi know she nuh drunk but a only wen she drunk she have so much mouth.

“No,” she says. “Mi just did feel like kiss you at the moment.”

“Usually you would a wait,” I point out.

“Well I didn’t wait this time,” she retorts and I smile to myself.

When we get home, Zara goes straight to the bathroom and showers while I take the time to eat my food downstairs.

My thoughts consuming me. No longer hard.

Just cut up. Nah eva drop mi guard so again.

After my own shower, I slip into bed, but sleep eludes me.

I step out onto the balcony, gazing into the night as my mind spirals.

First mi see you a overthink... a Zara thing that.

But too much deh pon mi mind. Mi still nuh deal wid Talia yet—she’s the only loose end in Carlos’ death, and mi nuh wah no loose ends. Mi lawyer situation still need sorting, mi business a get neglected… mi a slack up.

I turn to look at Zara. Asleep, her dark hair spilling over the pillow.

Mi obse—mi love har to the point where mi nuh even have a life dawg—everything is about her. Nah complain, just need fi balance mi priorities. But when mi alone, mi thoughts devour mi. Like everything mi been pushing back a flood mi brain all at once.

And at the top of that list? Adonis. Blood or not. Him affi dead.

I pull a chair in front of the bed and sit, elbows on my knees, studying the way her chest rise and fall, the small twitch of her fingers, my head tilting. One minute. Then two. Then five. What if this was it? What if their plan worked and she never wake up?

My fingers tap against my knee, my breathing slow. Everybody would be dead by now still… all who nuh kno’ bout the shit. Me alone can kill my ooman. She nah dead until I say so.

Seven minutes pass before I finally stand, grab my keys, and walk out.

I step from grave to grave, dirt shifting beneath me.

I’m sure the dead don’t mind. My steps drag me forward—slow, heavy—pulling me exactly where I need to be.

I crouch by the headstone, a half-empty bottle hanging loose from my fingers.

My jaw locks. Eyes dark. I stare at the name carved in the stone. The man himself:

Owayne Omar ‘Outlaw’ Jacobs Triple O’J

“Yuh drop yuh guard. Look weh it get yuh…” my voice is low, tight. “Mi nearly do di same f…ry today. Nearly join yuh inna the mansion dawg.”

I tilt the bottle of Billionaire Vodka, watching the clear liquid spill over the dirt.