They nodded, tears still flowing.
“Aunt Mia and Uncle Ivan are good people. They’re going to take care of you.” The words tasted like poison on my tongue. “And I will see you. I promise you that. Nothing—not papers, not distance, nothing—is going to keep me from being in your lives.”
“You promise?” Hunter asked, his eyes wide and desperate.
“I swear on my life,” I said.
Mia stood up from the table, her expression softening slightly. “We’ll be in touch about visitation schedules, Cannon. The boys need you in their lives, just… in a different capacity than you planned.”
I nodded stiffly, unable to form words past the rage and grief choking me.
“And about Reese’s funeral arrangements,” she added, hesitating slightly. “Since you were her next of kin, would you like some help planning the service? I know this is a lot to handle all at once.”
“Nah, I got it,” I said, my voice hard as concrete. “I’ll take care of my sister.”
The boys clung to me as I knelt down for one last hug. I breathed them in, memorizing their scents, the feel of their small arms around my neck.
“Be good for your aunt and uncle,” I whispered. “I’ll see you soon. That’s a promise.”
Hunter’s tears soaked my collar. “Love you, Uncle Cannon.”
“Love you too, little man. Both of you.”
Walking out of that building was the hardest thing I’d done since leaving prison. Each step felt like I was dragging lead weights. The bright sunshine outside mocked my darkness, the cheerful sounds of the street at odds with the storm raging inside me.
I slid behind the wheel of my Range Rover and just sat there, wanting to punch somebody in the face. I wanted to snatch the boys and get the hell out of New York. Shit, I wanted to drive back to the morgue and curse Reese out for this final betrayal.
My phone vibrated in my pocket. Queen’s name flashed on the screen, and I nearly declined it. Even though she was the sweetest thing in the world, I didn’t want to speak with her. But something told me to answer.
“Yeah?” My voice sounded hollow, distant.
“Cannon.” Queen’s voice came through tight with panic. “ZaZa’s been shot. We’re at Harlem Hospital. It’s bad.”
The world tilted on its axis. “What? What happened?”
“It was Marcus, her boyfriend. He’s Alfred Dixon’s son.” Her words tumbled out, thick with tears. “He was using ZaZa to get to me. For revenge. I killed him, but accidentally shot her in the process. There’s so much blood, Cannon. The doctors won’t tell me anything.”
I was already starting the engine. “I’m on my way.”
This day… no, this week kept getting worse and worse. There were just some things that money cannot buy.
Chapter 48
Queen
I’d seen death before. I’d pulled the trigger myself and watched the light fade from a man’s eyes. But nothing prepared me for seeing my baby girl’s blood pooling on those sterile hospital sheets, her breathing so shallow I had to keep checking to make sure she was still with us.
“Queen,” Nori whispered, squeezing my hand as we sat in those hard plastic chairs outside the ICU. “He’s here.”
I looked up and saw Cannon rushing toward us, his massive frame parting the hospital crowd like Moses with the Red Sea. His face was tight with worry, those blue-green eyes locked on mine. In three long strides, he reached me, pulling me up and into his arms. I collapsed against his chest, inhaling his scent, letting his strength hold me up when my legs felt ready to give out.
“Baby,” he murmured against my hair, his large hands cradling my face as he pulled back to look at me. His thumbs wiped tears I hadn’t even realized were falling. “How is she?”
“She’s in surgery,” I said, my voice cracking. “The bullet… it hit her in the abdomen. There was so much blood, Cannon. So much of my baby’s blood on my hands.”
He kissed me then, soft but fierce, like he was trying to pull some of my pain into himself.
“What happened with the boys?” Nori asked him, standing to give us space but staying close enough to hear.