Page 95 of Not My Type (Not My Type #1)

“This shit yuh love, eh?” I chuckle, humorless. “Mi still nuh know how yuh drink dis, but mi pour it same way. Fi yuh.” A beat of silence. Wind cutting through the cemetery. I drag a hand down my face.

“Yuh give mi dis life weh mi cya even love,” I mutter. “From di moment mi slip, a thug mansion fi me? Just so?” I shake my head. “Yuh diss mi, dawg. Yuh shoulda deh yah.”

The bottle swings in my grip. Another pour. Another chuckle. “Von tek yuh points. Yuh best friend.” My teeth clench. “And Adonis try take mine. Mi Uncle. Nuh blood dem say thicka’ dan water?”

A deep inhale. A slow exhale. Then, a tilt of my head.

“Yuh nuh see say mi affi murda smaddy?”my fingers tighten around the bottle. “All if a family?” I scoff. “Cause if mi nuh murda dem, a me dem aguh murda, and put mi right weh you deh. Man like me and you cyaa’ slip up. If we try that… well, you try that, and we see weh yuh deh.”

The bottle drops. Glass shatters.

I stare at the grave for a long second, then I sit on it, resting my head on the headstone, my eyes on the starless sky. “Long time wi nuh reason, eh?” my voice quiet. Almost conversational.

The wind howls through the trees. The night stretches, still and waiting.

Then—my phone rings.

My jaw tightens. I hiss, dragging a palm down my face before pulling the phone from my pocket.

A slow inhale, then a long exhale.

It’s Gutta.

I still swipe the red decline button, pull down the notifications, and hit DND.

GUTTA

“Jadennnnn!” the braider moans, back arching off the mattress. If mi a be honest? Dawg, mi d’evu member di gyal name.

All mi know is she do Anna braids nice before she lef go har night shift.

And she feel tightttttttt.

“Jah…Jah, maybe a ‘cause we a cheat mek dis feel so good,” I murmur against her neck, lips dragging ‘cross her skin.

“Shit... Jadennn,” she clutches the sheet tight, breathless, her legs shaking, a small laugh slipping out too.

“Murda fi the dolly.” Nah lie, fi a slimmaz, she sexy and ‘round dawg. I grip her waist, pulling her closer, feeling how she molds around me, the perfect fit. She locks me in place, grip wayyy better than Anna’s. Nuh trouble this now dawg?

I slide my hand up her throat, thumb brushing the side of her neck. She tilts her head back, her messy bun falling apart, baby hair curling up from the sweat. She looks me dead in the eyes.

“Waitttttt…Jai slow… slow down please,” she breathes, eyes wide like she cyaa believe sup’m can feel so good. This a not even man be—

“Jah Jah,” I groan in disbelief, and pound harder. She screams out. “Murdaaaa!” I flip her over, my forehead pressed ‘gainst hers. She’s panting, eyes searching my face like she’s looking for answers.

I see her name in cursive below her small breast bouncing, and in a low, groan I drag, “Sashiekaaa...” as if I already knew all this time.

Anuh we first time a mess around, but sup’m bout now.

.. just feel like a it this star. Maybe cause mi kno’ Teyanna nah fawud back til’ a mawning and mi have Sashieka fi the whole night.

Usually a quickie here and there. We neva’ get this much time alone, and after the day we just have a Mobay, mi did affi get a release. She looks me dead in my eyes. Again.

“Doh do that,” I warn her.

She squints, lips part just a likkle. “Do wah?”

“Don’t look mi inna mi eye,” my lips grazing hers, breath still uneven.

She smirks like she’s feelin’ herself now.

“Why mi cya’ look inna yuh eye sir?” I look down at the view, her thighs dripping with juices, each thrust her sounds fills my ears.

I lean into her, drag my lips ‘cross har jaw, voice dropping.

“Cah mi nuh wah yuh fall in love wid mon.” Worst she so young.

“So after this... mi fi just forget this?” she tries to catch her breath. Mi feel di grip tighten. Jah jah. My phone rings.

I grab the phone, still inside har, and kiss my teeth. “Yo, mi inna sup’m, dawg, wah yuh wah?”

The voice I hear makes me furrow my brows. Joe? Instantly mi kno’ sup’m wrong. “Wah gwan?”

“Look fi yuh bredda, him just lef but... feel like a one a him episode dem.” Prezi? Jah know.

“Weh him gone?”

“Mi nuh sure... call... just check on him, cause yuh kno’ he may not appreciate me calling,” Joe explains.

“Alright,” I hang up, now calling him. Sash shifts, and I pull out completely. Prezi declines the call. It goes to unavailable on my second try.

“Prezi alright?” Why is she concerned?

I ignore the worry in her eyes. “Mi a cut, don’t leave the room.”

“So what if mi hungry?”

“Mi nah stay long. Don’t leave the room,” I pull on my underwear, my shorts, grab my shirt, toss it over my shoulder, hand already reaching for my gun.

40 Minutes after…

Prezi sprawled out on the grave, gun hanging loose from his fingers, bottles everywhere—Hennessy, vodka—all empty. Drunk. I step closer, watching him. “Bro?”

His eyes snap open. Dark. Cold. Fingers twitch near the grip. “Wah yah do yah?”

I suck my teeth. “Yuh out yah drunk, gun inna yuh hand, liquor all ‘bout. How yuh ooman woulda feel if she see yuh like dis?”

Nothing. Just that dead stare, like he already decide sumn’ in his head. Like it wouldn’t take much for him to let go.

I crouch beside him, voice steady. “Yuh father dead, Nickoi. But yuh affi live on fi him. Same way mi live fi mi bredda dem.”

His jaw tightens. A slow breath drags out his nose. His fingers twitch again—this time, they go slack.

I kick the bottles out the way, take up the gun.

“Fawud nuh dawg.”

He doesn’t fight me.

I pull him up, gripping his shoulder tight.

NICKOI

Soon as I make it back inside, my phone rings and I look at it and realize that it’s 3 AM. Bro a so long yuh up? Why Juaqína a call me now?

I sigh and answer the phone. “Juaqína?” I say and I hear her shuffling around.

“Yes. Yuh alright?” her voice sleepy.

“Always,” I say.

“Okay. Mi just cyaa sleep because it’s on my mind that you get shot,” she’s feigning sadness. Eeeeh?

I breathe. “Mi Gov man... it’s just a graze.”

“Mi a come over in the morning mi and Gutta cause him tell me yuh wah talk to wi,” she says.

“Yah. Mi have sup’m fi dealid and a you and Gutta alone mi trust fi dweet,” I tell her.

“Okay... try to get some rest though,” she then adds. “I love you.”

Rest? Right now mi cyaa even sleep.

“Yeah mi a go sleep now,” I lie and hang up.

As the line goes silent, I step into the office, my gaze wandering for a distraction beyond the usual vices of smoke, drink, or desire. A smile graces my lips as I spot the canvas. Been a while, hasn’t it?