Fatal Attraction (Jamaican Novel)

•Chapter 8•

Imani Sybron

Wednesday||Kingston, Jamaica||4:00 P.M

"A joke this right?" I question Beck, throwing the stack of cash on the table.

He stepped back a bit, looking between me and the other three men inside the room. I could tell by his facial expression he wanted to go out the door before anything else could go wrong.

All mi ask is fi dem do dem job and if that too much, dem can find a different job.

"200 grand missing," I tell them.

This was the second time for the month my money was short yet nobody had an explanation,  I shot four men already because of this situation, and I don't intend on shooting anyone else unless I get a good explanation.

Beck recounted the money more than twice since when they brought it in, still, something was missing.

"Boss...." Clay trails off, he starts to scratch the back of his neck nervously.

I stay silent, awaiting the rest of his sentence.

Yaav nuff patience.

Mi rate Clay, could always count on him.

Sumn bout the way dem acting right now only make me a get paranoid, either somebody ago explain wah happen to me 200 grand or me ago kill one a dem. Last time 50 grand missing now 200, whoever a fuck around behave like a mi and him work fi it.

Beck clears his throat as he moves closer to Clay, he cocks his gun and presses it at the back of his head, "Yaah go talk or mi affi go put a cap inna yuh?".

Clay's eyes widen in shock, mi wuda never stop Beck from doing wah him supposed to do so he can be my guest in solving the problem.

"J...Jonathon, him a take yuh money" Clay meekly replies, closing his eyes tightly as if he just betrayed someone.

Jonathon.

"Come man talk up" Beck frustratingly says, throwing his head back.

Clay stands there with the gun at the back of his head, refusing to say anything else. On the other hand, I knew why he wasn't saying anything but he should know better than anyone else not to go silent when asked about my business.

So a who him a work fah?

Dat mi want fi know.

Looking down at the money scattered all over the table I nod my head, there's always a way to deal with Jonathon.

"Him threaten yuh family?" I ask Clay.

He nods shamefully, the guilt of Jonathon's threat washing over his face for a few seconds, he keeps his eyes on the floor to avoid eye contact with me.

"Him a get off?" Beck questions lowering his gun, "Say the word, and mi do anything".

I thought about his offer, however, it wasn't time yet to give that man what he deserved.

"Call English, tell him mi need a favor"

Beck nods obligingly, "Wah bout dem three yah?".

"Make dem work wid Doc down a warehouse four, time fi switch up some things"

"Aiit"

If Jonathon know bout mi pick-up fi take mi money that means somebody a tell him wah mi a do so make sense mi change up me schedule and shift up everybody.

Put dem inna different locations and pon different jobs.

Cyaah really blame dem because him still have some authority over dem, him wrong a threaten the man family, mi ago teach him sumn caz a baay foolishness him a try do and my name naah go down wid him.