Prologue
DAMION’S POV
Year 2021, 2 years earlier
It’s not the first time I’m close to death, but this is the first time it’s stressing me out. Maybe because this time my daughter and wife are at risk. Or maybe because I’m getting old. I take another sip of my orange juice. It helps to calm my nerves , honestly the best substitution for alcohol.
“Wah wrong Damion, you foot dem a shake like you have fitz bredda,” Desmond asks.
I look at Desmond, then rest the empty glass on the table. Always impatient, this one. I have no idea who he gets it from because before they died, my parents were the most patient people ever. If he didn’t look like our father, I’d say he was a jacket.
“Man dem on to mi, dem find out bout the safe and find di blue print a the structure wid mi name pon it, mi nuh think mi have long left,” I answer, hardly keeping eye contact.
“Then how yuh manage fi left that behind? and yuh know yuh name deh pon the paper, yuh smart Damion but yuh fool yuh fuck sometimes fi a big man wid a family!!”
He looks annoyed. That’s because he knows how bad this is, and the Whytes go lower than hell when they want something, so his reaction is valid. I don’t think anyone would go searching the premises for anything after the entire Ferguson family is murdered.
“Yuh a plan fi hide? Left eh country until dem give up pon the search?” he asks.
I pour myself some more orange juice and down it in one go, staring at the empty cup. I am dumb to think that everything is going to be buried after the Fergusons die, but boy, am I wrong.
“Mi nuh care if dem find out seh a safe exist. A just that mi name deh pon it mek the problem arise cause then dem would a think seh a fi the Fergusons and since all a dem dead dem would a give up pon the search and call it a lost and move on—”
“But that wasn’t the case yuh name deh pon it a nuh fairytale business Damion a reality dem man deh nuh guh after one smaddy a every body dem man deh kill, yuh forget seh a Jamaica yuh live and not disney bomboclaat land!!” he cuts in.
“Yuh think mi nuh know that? Mi already think bout all a that and mi know a reality and focusing on what ifs nah guh help. Mi nah get younger, mi a old old man yah now — 48 year old.”
He gets up and walks over to the kitchen and starts making some tea. After a few minutes, he takes the first sip and sighs, then looks in my direction with a smile. What’s so special about that tea to have him smiling like that?
“Yuh know yuh wife have a nice piece a ass. Nuh worry yuh self, if yuh dead mi we gi her a shoulder fi cry pon and rest her legs pon. Amara aguh start call mi uncle father, yh mn a faith.”
I stare at him in disbelief, then start laughing. I’m glad no one else is here because it would have caught their attention. By the time I’m done laughing, tears are at my eyes and I’m holding on to the couch handle for dear life. That is a fucking good one.
He walks back over to where I’m seated with another cup of tea and hands me one, then takes a seat next to me. He smiles, then looks straight ahead of him.
“Seriously Damion wah yuh plan now? yuh know yuh can just gi dem eh vault a nuh like yuh short a nun,” he adds.
But that’s the reason why I can live the way I live, because of that vault. Maybe I shouldn’t have kept him in the dark about some of these things. Jah know.
“That a di ting, a di vault mi entire life in a. All the money, weapons, assets, everything in deh. Documents, every damn thing in deh, even drugs in deh and weed of all kind. If the house could a hold in deh all it would a in deh,” I answer, sighing.
“It’s both illegal and legal. All info about di family, but dat nuh mek no sense yah now see d whole a dem dead deh,” I add.
He looks at me, and I am not sure what emotion he is portraying right now. I usually tell him that I am only getting paid to live comfortably and make sure the family is alright, but that is to keep him out of harm’s way. He’s my little brother after all. But now he just looks betrayed.
“So a when dem soon kill yuh bomboclaat yuh wah tell mi all a dat? try come out a mi face before mi dweet fi dem, yuh know wah? do anything yuh wah do, just try nuh get mi niece involve.
Just know mi nah no money fi bury nobody so dem o cremate yuh blct,” he replies in anger and walks out the house.
I can see him from the living room, standing outside looking at the sky before he shakes his head and looks back in my direction. Our eyes make contact, and he gives me the middle finger and leaves.
“Fi a big man yuh need fi grow up fava the lizard weh name Rango!!” I shout at him.
I pull my phone out, then open an unknown contact. I guess it’s time to hit up an old friend. I open the chat and send him a quick message.
DAMION: Seems mi a guh want that favor after all.
UNKNOWN: It’s been years, thought you wouldn’t ask anything from the man who saved my wife’s life.
DAMION: How ironic. I need you to keep an eye on my babygirl and wife. I might be in some shit.
UNKNOWN: What the fuck did you get yourself into now?
DAMION: A how dah saying deh guh again?
UNKNOWN: Which saying? an weh the fuck that haffi do wid nun
DAMION: Thats for me to know and you NEVER to find out.
UNKNOWN: I hope they nail you to a God damn light post.
I laugh and turn my phone off, then dump it in the compartment in the couch. I should probably go home to spend some time with my family before our family of three becomes a family of two — me excluded.
The only thing I don’t tell Desmond is that I am going to have to willingly walk to my death, else those motherfuckers are going to go after my family.
Fuck.
They are going to have to kill me, because I am not dumb enough to give out any information about that safe.
Boil me in a calf made of gold, I don’t care. They won’t be getting not one piece of information from me about that damn safe.
Dem o haffi kill mi bomboclaat in a this!!!
ꨄ︎ㅤꨄ︎ㅤꨄ︎ㅤꨄ︎ㅤꨄ︎
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