Not My Type 2 (Not My Type #2)

Chapter 15 Ride #2

“We a go good,” Jordane answers before she can say anything else. She looks at me for backup and I just smile.

Seet deh Jordane nah lef yuh.

“We a go good,” I echo.

She gives us a worried look. “Mi a go call Gutta dem,” she breathes.

I shake my head. “This soft, man.”

She sighs, heavy. “Arite, mi bwoy.”

I look at her. “How yuh gwaan like this nuh soft, Mommy?” I grin, trying to ease the tension.

“Bwoy… mi nuh wah nutt’n go do unuh,” she says, voice low.

“Promise mi nah mek nutt’n do me or Jordane,” I tell her, eyes steady.

She nods slow, arms folded tight across her chest like she’s holding in fear. She don’t answer, just steps back inside, her slippers dragging quiet on the tile. I slide into the car. The engine already warm, rumbling low. Jordane beside me, leg bouncing. Hands clenched.

“A some idiot bwoy enuh,” he mutters. “But mi never wah yuh get involved.”

I grip the steering wheel. “Mi nah mek nobody violate mi family.” He leans back when I say that, staring out the window.

“No joke.”

I glance over. “Weh Lorie deh?”

“She more fi deh a the bar,” he replies, jaw tight. “She nuh have no yaad. Even though she affi sleep somewhere still, mi feel seh she deh deh now.”

I nod, feeling the same dread building in my chest. The road narrows. Potholes now. Zinc fences. Graffiti on the wall with names scratched out and replaced. Boys with no shirt play ball in the dust with a crushed bottle. A dog limps across the lane.

I slow down as the bar comes into view. “Yow Jordane,” I say, “Mi nuh wah you come out enuh.”

“You one, bredda?”

“Yah. You just deh yah fi watch mi back if things go south.”

He pauses, then nods once. “Alright. So gimme a gun then.”

I breathe out. Real low. “Nah give yuh. But if yuh need it, it in yasso.” I tap the glove compartment. He opens it, sees it, closes it back without a word. Him calm. Too calm. I study him. The stillness. The sharpness in his eyes. Same way mi used to be… before mi first kill.

I close my eyes and whisper a prayer. I was almost sure God wouldn’t pick up his line for it. I do it anyway. “Daddy did say we fi do this,” he says, eyes still forward. I don’t respond. Just nod. Mask on. Gloves on. Gun ready.

“Bwoy name?”

“Him that, him name Denzil,” Jordane says, eyes steady as he points him out. I nod, locking on the target.

Oh, bwoy deh dead already.

“Mi know him,” I say low.

Jordane bumps his fist to mine. “Stay safe enuh.”

I nod back, heart steady but racing. I pull the ski mask over my face, slide my gloves on tight. One gun in my hand, another tucked deep in my waist. I step out the car slow, careful not to draw attention. Mi cya afford fi mek dem suspect nutt’n.

Mi a live and try play the cards right fi mi family. Those words circle in my head, I can’t afford to mess up. Mi promise, mi affi be there fi Zara and mi youth. Wah mi a do right now? Risky. Reckless. But mi cya protect nobody but Jordane right now.

Eyes sharp. Mind racing. I scan every corner, every shadow, trying to plan the move. Then her words hit me sharp

“M-mi never plan fi be a single mom so stop talk to me so.” I breathe out slow. Nah go mek yuh feel so, Mami.

That’s why yuh affi stay focused, even when yuh alone.

And I am.

The heat slap me as soon as I step out. Breeze dead. Whole place quiet like it’s holding its breath. I walk straight. No hesitation. Four man outside. Sitting. Domino slamming down. White rum sweating on the table. My shadow fall over them before they even look up. Then dead silence.

I draw out the glock. “None a unuh no move.”

Chairs creak. One lean back like he’s contemplating to run. My gaze lock on him. I sweep through their faces then stop. Denzil. He’s stiff. Sweat dripping down. He raise both hands. “A wah dis ‘bout?”

“Nickoi!” Lorie’s voice slices through the air from inside the bar, high and frantic.

I glance up just in time to see her barefoot, skirt flaring, scrambling through the shop door like a coward in retreat. She disappears into the house behind it, slamming the door. How far she really think she a run go?

I turn my attention back to Denzil. His face is pale, full of panic. “Yuh nuh know?” I ask.

BLAOW!

The gun kicks once in my hand. The shot rips through his shoulder. He lets out a sharp yelp and drops off the stool, collapsing on his back. Brawling.

Chairs crash to the ground. Dominoes scatter.

Bottles tip. The other men leap up, scrambling in all directions.

My focus locked on Denzil. He’s dragging himself across the dirt, one hand soaked in red, the other trying to pull his weight.

Then he’s up limping fast, stumbling straight toward the house.

I move. One of his friends shoots at me, not smart.

POP. POP. POP. POP. POP.

Five bullets. Last one punches through his forehead.

His knees buckle. Head snaps back. He drops like a sack of rice.

Gunfire erupts from the side, two of Denzil’s other boys ducking behind a low zinc fence, firing recklessly.

I dive behind a stack of building blocks.

Dust clouds lift around me. Concrete chips off the corners where bullets bite through. Calm.

I breathe once, then pull my second gun lighter, deadlier. I peek. Aim.

POP. POP.

One of them hits the ground. Twitches. Goes still.

The other one? He runs. He’s out of bullets.

Now him just running fi him life. I glance around quick scan then take off after him.

We cut through the side of a tenement yard.

A woman is bent over a red bath pan, washing clothes, earphones in.

Oblivious. She turns just as we rush past, her face twists in terror.

She screams. The man stumbles on a stone. That’s all I need.

CLAP!

I slam the gun into the back of his head. He drops to his knees, gasping.

POP. POP. POP.

Three clean to the skull. He slumps forward, face-first in the dirt.

Blood pooling. No more breath. Suh’m bout head shots.

The woman is still screaming, running now.

I push open the back door of the house, slam into it hard, shoulder first. Inside.

The air is hot and stale. Fan creaking slow overhead.

Then I see her. A girl, maybe thirteen, maybe fifteen crouched at the side of a low bed.

Eyes wide, hands over her mouth. She sees me.

I lift my finger to my lips, gun in the other hand.

She nods quick and looks away. I step to the wall, flattening myself against the cool concrete, listening.

Footsteps. Heavy. Rushed. Denzil. He’s coming.

And this time, I’m the one waiting. As soon as he steps through the doorway, I don’t hesitate, I swing my foot up and kick him straight in his chest.

BAM.

He crashes onto the bed, the whole thing creaking under him.

He spins, disoriented, trying to reach for his weapon.

But his hand sloppy, panicked. The gun slips from his grip.

Clink. Before he can grab it again, I step forward and kick it across the floor, sending it skidding under the dresser. I raise both guns.

brRRT! brRT! brRT!

His chest jerks with each shot, blood spraying against the wall behind him. He gasps, twitches. By the time the fifth shot hit, him done fa, but me nuh done yet.

From the corner room, I hear it, sobs. It’s Lorie. “Please nuh kill mi…” she pleads, curled up in the doorway, tears streaming.

I walk over, slow. Ice in my veins. I swing the barrel of the gun, catch her right in the mouth. She drops, her lip bust open. Blood mix with spit on the tile. Bitch. She scrambles to crawl away, shaking, begging. I plant my Clarks on her wrist and press down hard.

“OWWW!” she screams. Outside, I hear shouting.

“The gunman deh inna the house!”

I glance through the curtain. A man outside, aiming a pistol. Black shirt, eyes wild. I raise one gun, calm.

POP!

One shot to the head. He drops without a sound. The woman beside him tries to run.

POP. POP.

Both thighs. She hits the ground screaming, crawling in the dust. “Informa,” I mutter. Then I look back at Lorie. She’s trembling. Tears wet her face. I kneel slightly, still pressing down on her wrist.

“Mi fi kill yuh enuh…” I say low, almost like a whisper, “but mi wah yuh live. Fi see mi youth. Fi see the wedding pictures.”

She gasps. Whole body shaking. I smile and squeeze again.

POP. POP.

One to each knee. She screams. Loud. I pull out my phone and call Jordane. He picks up quick. “Yuh good?”

“Yah… how out deh look?”

“People just a run… police nah reach yet. Just hurry.” I hang up and walk out, not looking back. She lucky. Coulda be har head.

Outside, I slide into the driver’s seat. Jordane already in. I don’t say a word. Just start the engine. We drive off fast, but quiet like a ghosts.

ZARA

“Mi nuh know how Nickoi work wid you enuh,” my mother mutters, watching as I finally hold up the dress.

It’s a clean white, one strap piece, simple but elegant.

Not too extra, not too boring. The exact balance I’d been hunting down all day.

She said this was the last store she was checking. She meant it.

“Mommy, yuh did serious when yuh seh this a the last store?” I ask, knowing well she’s at her limit.

She hisses, snatching the dress from my hand. “How yuh mean? The amount a store weh yuh drag mi inna and yuh nuh like nothing, wah nuh too short, too long… Mi cya bada.”

I chuckle, following behind her as she heads to the cashier. She turns to the worker. “She cya try on the dress?”

The girl smiles, polite but firm. “I’m sorry, we don’t allow customers to try on white clothes.”

My mother exhales like a full sigh weigh down her back. “Alright,” she says, then turns to me. “You want nothing else?”

I shake my head, eyes drifting toward the jewelry. My fingers tap gently on the glass display and just like that, mi remember mi nails! Mi affi call Wendy when mi reach home so she can expect me. Plus, mi need fi text Clova ‘bout Wednesday plans. Gosh… so many things to sort out.

“Wah gwaan Michelle? Mi hear seh yuh deh inna the place!” Gary’s voice bursts from the side and mommy spins around, grinning.

“Gary!” she laughs, hugging him tight.

He pulls back. “Watch yah, mi foreign friend! A when yuh a head back up?”

“Mi fi go up Monday, but mi madda wah mi stay fi Christmas… problem is, mi have work,” she replies with a soft smile. “So mi might affi do a early Christmas wid har.”

Mi heart pinch. So soon? Mommy a go lef mi?

Gary nods. “Yeah man, do that. So yuh good?”

While they chat, a store clerk walks over to me. “Hi beautiful, yuh see anything yuh like?”

“Mi just a gwaan look through,” I tell her, eyes still scanning the necklaces.

“Alright, mek mi know,” she beams.

Gary calls over to me. “You good?”

“Yeah,” I nod with a small smile. “You?”

“Mi deh yah… a gwaan hold it,” he says. “Mi a cut now though… tek care.”

“Alright Gary,” Mommy waves him off and then turns to the cashier. “How much fi the dress?”

As she reaches into her purse, I stop her. “Mommy, Nickoi give me money,” I remind her, handing her what he gave me.

She still gives me a look like she a go pay anyway, but accepts it.

I’m still deciding on the necklace. I’m indecisive and I know it.

I frustrate everybody I shop with. After another three minutes of staring and comparing, mi settle on a necklace with a heart pendant, it match mi ring.

We check out, then stop by Popeyes. We eat in the car on the way home, the smell of fries and chicken heavy in the air, blending with the slow hum of the A/C.

“The more yuh belly grow, yuh affi mek Mama help yuh out,” Mommy says, breaking the silence as she turns onto the main.

“You and Nickoi think ‘bout baby shower yet? It nuh too early fi start plan it, yuh know.”

“I know,” I nod, sipping on my drink.

“When it a keep, mi a go try get time off again. Mi wah deh yah when yuh give birth too.”

I smile. “Mi hope yuh deh here to, mi a go need yuh.”

She nods, quiet for a moment. “Mi cya wait fi meet mi grandbaby.”

“When mi belly a go start show?” I ask, hand resting gently over it.

“When yuh reach three months.”

“Mi already feel like mi a gain baby weight,” I groan. She laughs, turning into the yard. Joe walks over to the car and I wind down the window.

“It’s me and my mom,” I tell him and he nods.

“You nah come in?” I ask her.

“Mi affi head back before night catch mi,” she says. “Mi nuh like drive at night. Tell Nickoi seh mi seh howdy.”

I nod. “I will.” I lean over, hug her tight. Her perfume lingers in the air.

“But mi wah buy some more clothes tomorrow… yuh coming wid mi?” I tease.

She hiss loud. “Mi done shop wid you. Done!” She claps her hands and I burst out laughing.

“Bear wid mi Mommy.”

“Bear wid you?” she echoes, but mi know she nah mek that mistake again.

I grin. “Bye Mommy. Drive safe. Love you.”

She smiles as she drives off, the tail lights fading behind the gate.