From Then Till Now: A Jamaican Love Story Book 4

Prologue

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Jubba's POV

9 years earlier

Wednesday 10:00 AM

Cho Bomboclaat, mi no know wah dis woman waan see mi fah enuh. 

I finished the training, they finally placed me at a location, and now she wants me to leave my post and come into the office.

I just celebrated my twentieth birthday and I'm surprised that I even made it. I would've preferred if I hadn't, I've been doing everything in my power to reach death's door but it's not fucking happening.

I'm now waiting on the relief guard to come so that I can go to the meeting.

Like why the fuck Miss Senior couldn't tell mi bout dis meeting from yesterday she ago spring dis pon mi out a d fucking blues.

Wonder if a Mummy call and tell dem fi fire mi. She's upset that I quit university and decided to take a job as a security guard.

She wouldn't even understand the emotional turmoil that I'm dealing with. I feel like I'm living two lives and I would just rather not be living.

The relief comes and I grab a bus and head to the office. I sit in the lobby and wait for Miss Senior to come and receive me.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Williams, thank you for coming on such short notice. Mr. Holt would like to have a word with you, please follow me," she says and I'm lost for words.

A wah d pussyclaat a gwaan yah so, wonder if mi fi run. Why would the head of the company want to see me?

Against my better judgement, I follow her and she leads me to a conference room. There's a big screen at the front of the room and a table that seats about fifteen takes up the centre. The room is nicely decorated with black and white accents.

The screen lights up and a white guy comes on. I thought she said I was meeting the boss, this guy looks like my age.

"Good afternoon Mr. Williams, you may take a seat. Thank you Miss Senior, that will be all," he says and she leaves the room.

As the door closes I turn to face the screen once more.

"I am Alexander Holt the third, thank you for agreeing to meet with me," he says and I want to kiss my teeth.

Man a move like seh dem did gimmie a fucking choice.

I have to listen attentively because his accent is so deep, mi really hope dis no tek up mi bomboclaat day enuh.

"No problem," I say and he smirks at me.

A wonder if him a batty man, mi will find him and shoot him inna him face enuh! Man a come smirk at mi, batty bwoi move dat.

"Wah gwaan Jubba Don?" He says and I freeze.

Mi pussyclaat, a wah kinda joke dis, he doesn't have an accent anymore, he sounds like me. How the fuck does he know my alias?

I think I should run, mi rather dead than go a prison enuh.

"Check yuh phone," he says after I sit not saying anything.

I pull out my phone and on the screen is an unending list of all the people I've killed and people that are set to be killed.

Yes, mi need fi leave.

The list disappears in front of my eyes and I hold up my head to see him smiling at me.

Mi no like dis a bomboclaat, the screen goes blank and a video comes up. I want to throw up, I want to run, I want to die. It's a video of me shooting up a police station a few weeks ago. Another video comes up of me shooting a taxi driver in traffic.

Alright a time fi mi cut, I get up from the seat and move to the door.

"It won't open Jordon," he says and I look to see him back on the screen.

"Have a seat, we have business to discuss," he says and I try the door but like he said, it doesn't open. I feel trapped, I want to lash out, I move for the gun in my waist.

"Don't do it, have a seat, take some deep breaths and let's talk. If I wanted to hurt you or turn you in, I would've done that months ago. I know how much prison scares you so take my word for it, you will not be going there but I need your help, please sit," he says in a calm but firm voice and I'm wondering if he's a reader man or something. Nobody knows about the fear I have of going to prison.

I walk over to the table and take a seat.

"Thank you, I have a job for you," he says, and I sit and listen to him.

Wednesday 01:00 PM

My life just took a drastic turn but I don't know if it's for the better or the worse. The boss wants me to work for him directly, being his eyes and ears in Jamaica.

Me? I don't know if I should trust him. I can't understand why he would give me this big job knowing my history, it doesn't make any sense.

I almost fainted when he told me what my salary would be, I would have to kill about six big shots to earn that much. The benefits are even better, free housing, fully maintained vehicle, health and life insurance, pension, food allowance, clothing allowance, plus more.

I'm still in disbelief, it's a nice offer but there's a price and I feel really bad about it. Under this new agreement, I can't have anything to do with my current life. I can't see or communicate with my family outside of my mother.

My mother will be moved from the area and put in some posh gated community somewhere in Portmore, I don't even remember the name of the place.

I had to contact her while in the meeting. I told her to take just her important documents and leave making sure that it doesn't look like she's leaving.

My mother needs to leave before I head back home just in case my departure isn't received amicably.

I also have to go back to school and finish my degree.

When I walked out of the office this guy by the name of Dane was out there waiting for me. He handed me the keys to a Toyota Prado. He pointed to the bag on the floor and reminded me that I have until tomorrow this time to deliver it.

I can't understand how I'm in this position, I'm a nobody. What do I know about helping to run a security company? I can't recruit guards, knowing who is worthy and who is not. I'm the scum of society, I'm waiting to wake up.

As I'm driving, I glance at the bag in the back. So that's how ten million in cash looks, I take a deep breath and focus on the road.

The boss knew about the money that we owed the rival gang and has given me all of it to purchase my freedom. Once I drop this off, that's it, I can't have anything to do with them.

I park the car in a parking lot in Spanish Town, I can't drive this home. I take out the bag and jump on a bus. No one will dare trouble me here.

I come off the bus and walk into the lane, I reach my uncle's home and head inside.

"Jubby, yuh quit d work?" My uncle laughs when I enter.

"No Dadda, but mi need fi talk to yuh," I say and put the bag on the table in front of him.

It's hard to tell the only man that ever cared about me, that I'm leaving but it's either that or sure death and I know he doesn't want me to die.

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