Page 74 of Not My Type
“Yow the boss in a the place enuh!” Keno shouts, grabbing everyone’s attention.
They stop working, dapping me up. After greeting them they get back to their work and Keno approaches me with a smile. “Wah gwaan mi General?” he asks. He’s my cousin and my big brother’s bestfriend.
“Mi deh yah mon mi really love how yuh wol the thing down fimme even though mi neva’ deh yah fam,” I shake his hand.
“Always mi Don,” he nods.
“Hola Nickoi,” Juaqína’s voice purrs softly behind me.
I tense up a little and glance over my shoulder. She’s the one who keeps everything running smoothly, a real networking enchantress. And being Mexican, she’s got connections everywhere. She knows every plug. I scan her body. She still looks good. I smack my lips then immediately feelguilty when I remember Zara. Cya believe seh Zara make me nuh wah play around with Juaqína weh mi usually cyaa’ resist. We used to mess around... long before I met Zara.Two Mexican yuh have Nick?
Juaqína was born in Jamaica it’s just that her father is Mexican, but Talia is full Mexican. Born and raised there. Shit, nuh today she a come? Mi affi go call her. Mi nuh know wah mi o’ do because me nuh wah hurt Zara and mi nuh wah hurt Talia.
I look at her with a straight face. “Wah’m?” she narrows her eyes at me.
“Yuh in a deep thoughts mon,” I know she wants me to tell her what I was thinking. But no.
“Yah... business mi a meds,” I lie, looking for Keno when I notice he isn’t standing next to me. I spot him stacking the parcels with the drugs. How the man move so fast? Then the man nuh affi move if yuh deh chat with woman? My annoying subconscious asks.
“Nick, how is life treating you?” She asks. I gesture my hand calling Keno over before I look at her.
“Gwan back go work Juaqína,” I dismiss her, walking away. Ouch.
I meet Keno. “Weh Junior deh?” I question, asking for my brother. He shrugs.
“Know mi nuh sure but check him office,” I nod walking out.
When my brother and I took over the drugs business, we knew that we’d have to find a spot, somewhere unknown to people and that’s why we made this underground building to carry out our operations. As a criminal. We knew the business was confidential, so trust was everything—and trust was rare around here. That meant we needed people with nothing to lose. This game was dangerous, no room for weak links. The best recruits? The ones who’d rather stay ghosts, stacking billions in silence. Wanted men. Ex-cons. Gangsters tired of running, tired of struggling. The kind who understood that in this world, survival wasn’t promised—but power was up for grabs. Plus it’s easy money and they like what they do.
We have a few family members involved too, but only the one’s weknow we can trust. Our father, Outlaw taught us the game. He always told us—if you wan’ survive, you affi’ move smart. And that’s exactly what we did. The money was pouring in, but too much attention? That’s bad for business. So me and my brother set up the car mart. Just something to keep eyes where we wanted ‘em, while the real money kept stacking. Bringing in cars made it easier to move the product. We didn’t want the businesses too far from each other ,so we got this spot, built the car mart and the underground warehouse beneath it to run the real operations.
I tell Zara what I can, but not this. I trust her with my heart, just not with this. It’s too deep, she wouldn’t get it. Scamming is just a front, a way to keep eyes off the real work. Letting people know I move weight? That’d be reckless.
I have to give them the idea that I chop some big food and buy my expensive assets. Some of the scamming money buy my cars but majority of my income is through the drug business. Mi d’evu start spend money yet.
Real rich!my subconscious says.
I scan my fingerprint on the door, opening the car mart’s underground door before I walk up the stairs. Only Junior and I can use this door.
When I get to the next door, I push it open and make it to the top where I see customers window shopping. I spot Junior. He catches my eye with a smile—always the businessman. Dressed in a tux, briefcase in hand, he looks the part.
“Wah gwan?” he asks, walking over. I watch the workers move around, assisting customers, then turn back to him.
“How the business a go?” I inquire and he sighs.
“Nuh so good it kinda slow,” he breathes. Not the drugs business though..
“Nuh worry too much bro,” I smile. If only I told him about the figures the underground is generating, he’d faint. It’s been two years since he left it.
He raises his brows and asks. “How is the underground?” in a whisper.
“Money factory,” I smirk.
His face lights up. “Fi real?” My phone rings—it’s Talia.
“Inna the lataz,” I say and walk off, hearing him say.
“Guards up bro and keep safe,” he says as I walk away.
