Page 42 of Not My Type
I give him one of my killer side eyes. He looks at Talia. “Nathalia love, give daddy a minute with Nickoi,” he says to her, glaring at me.
“Dad?” she says knowingly.
“It’ll be brief.”
“Me nuh like yuh either enuh big man,” I say to him the moment Talia walks away. He chuckles walking around me.
“Which is good.” I stroke my beard. Mi no wah no man a circle me enuh. I rest my hand on my waist — on top of my Glock.
“Easy young ma—” he starts saying, but I interrupt him.
“Wah yuh wah? Talk fast,” my voice steely. I don’t do small talks with people I don’t rate.
“I just want to make something clear,” he tells me. I straighten my Dior shirt, more cognizant than ever before.
One wrong move and mi turn him inna duppy.
“Wah dat now big man?” I ask annoyed.
“Liyah is my only daughter and I know that she loves you... so I don’t want you to do anything to hurt her. I want you to take care of her,” he says and I nod, trying to stay professional.
“Clear?” I hate his tone. No man nah deal wid mi so. Him know me?
It’s my time to chuckle. “So mi nah tek care of yuh daughter?” I face him, slightly towering over him.
“What I mean is those girls that you have all over the place you need to cut them off and don’t hurt my daughter,” like him likkle life a tickle him. I laugh rudely.
Man yah kno’ who him a dealid? “Big man mi no wah nuh man a watch me,” I glare at him. If looks could kill, he’d be six feet deep. I could give him a head shot cause I’m eager to use this glock on him.
He narrows his gaze — ‘challenging’ me. “I have eyes and ears everywhere,” he states and so do I.
I could laugh at his ignorance. Or the ol’ bwoy a try play smart? “Just stay inna yuh lane cause mi nuh 3 do di ranting thing. Mi get to the point,” I coldly say. “Yuh zimi?”
“Gangster much,” he teases.
“We badness anuh talking enuh and it no stop yasso, but a me and yuh daughter deh so a she me a deal wid. As long as yuh wul yuh own, mi good,” I tell him, he nods.
“As long as you stay loyal to my daughter,” I start laughing. Hear d mon.
“Dad that’s two minutes and another minute from my baby is torturing,” Talia heels clanking closer. I smirk at him.
He’s in a huff whenever she speaks to me in this manner.
“Just make sure you do what I say,” he grits his teeth and I chuckle.
“¡Para!”
Talia walks behind us. “Stop whatever is happening between you two!”
Her dad looks at her. “Everything is good Mija.”
Feeling a little petty, I grab her throat aggressively and press a kiss on her lips. I meet her father’s raging eyes. He exhales and storms off the roof.
17. CHILLIN’
Zara
The walk towards my house is usually me mentally preparing myself for that rigid lock on the grill — it gives me hell on a daily basis.
