Page 35 of Cannon
The night dragged on, men came in with their boys, a bachelorette party waltzed in, and finally a nigga I did not wanna see. Fuckin’ Smoke.
I wasn’t manning the door, but I kept eyes on it from the cut. And the second he stepped in, it was like the New Year’s Eve ball had dropped. Diamonds iced out every finger, a thick Cuban link on his neck, another hanging to his stomach, a wrist stacked with watches like he couldn’t decide on just one. Rings the size of gumballs caught the light every time he moved his hands. The nigga had on a mink, in summer. Hood royalty, but tacky with it. He wanted everyone in the room to know exactly who he was.
Patrons looked up, dancers whispered, and Smoke smiled like he fed off the attention. The kind of smile that said,Yeah, I’m still that nigga.But I knew the truth about his empire. After I went away, things slowly began to crumble. He lived too flashy and a few of his businesses got hemmed up. Several of his soldiers got sent away. He was running that raggedy empire with his sons. I wanted no part of it.
I cursed under my breath. Last thing I needed tonight was him.
Sure enough, he clocked me, grinning wide like he’d just spotted a long-lost brother. He slid through security like it was nothing. Of course, they knew better than to stop him as he swaggered toward me.
“Damn, Cannon,” he greeted. “Nigga couldn’t even hit me up when he touched down? That shit hurt my feelings.”
I stayed still, stone-faced. “I been busy.”
He leaned in closer, smelling like loud cologne and kush. “Busy doing this? You too good for this. You know we gotta chop it up. Meet me in the back.”
“I’m working.”
“That ain’t what I asked,” he said, his voice lowering, less playful now.
I gave him a glare that told him to back down. I may have worked for him but I wasn’t no bitch.
“Nigga, I’m just playin’. Don’t trip. I’ll catch you in the mornin’ then. Our old spot. The diner. After you get off. I got some work for you that’s gonna pay better than this.”
I didn’t answer, just stared.
He smirked, patted me on the chest with one of those gaudy-ass hands. “Good. See you then.”
And just like that, he melted back into the crowd, leaving my jaw tight. I hated that I already knew I’d be at that diner.
The rest of the night went fine. I watched everyone like a hawk, but there was nothing out of place and no one got out of line. It was an easy night.
There was something… or someone missing. Queen hadn’t been downstairs all night and her presence was missed. Ballers asked about her, wanting to just say hi but no one could gain access. It was as if she was hiding from something or someone.
Something about her was eating at me. That look she wore earlier wasn’t just stress; it was weight, heavy enough to press through her polished surface. And for reasons I couldn’t explain, it crawled under my skin. Made me want to step in. Protect. Fix.
But she wasn’t mine to protect. She wasn’t my woman. And I had my own demons clawing for attention.
When the last patron cleared out and the music died, I headed upstairs to check on her before I called it a night. The glow from her office spilled into the hallway, warm against the dim of the club. Inside, she wasn’t alone. Nori sat across from her, heels kicked off, a laptop open between them. Queen had told me Nori sometimes handled her accounting. From the looks of it, they were knee-deep in numbers, Nori’s sharp tongue probably cutting through Queen’s silence the way only a best friend could.
I knocked on the doorframe, both of them looking up from the screen.
“Everything good?” I asked.
Queen barely glanced at me, her attention snapping right back to the laptop. “Yeah, we’re just paying vendors. Go check the back door now. It doesn’t always latch correctly.”
The dismissal in her tone hit different. Like I was the help. Some nigga she could just wave off. In front of Nori, no less.
“What you say?” My voice came out low, dangerous.
She finally looked up, irritation flashing across her face. “I said go check the back door to make sure it’s secure. That’s your job, right?”
Nori’s eyes widened, sensing the shift in energy. She started to speak but I was already moving.
Three strides and I was at Queen’s desk. My hand found her throat—not rough, but firm enough to make her gasp. I leaned down until my lips brushed her ear, feeling her pulse race under my palm.
“You ever speak to me like that again, especially in front of someone else, and I’ma bend you over this desk and punish you for being so fuckin’ disrespectful,” I growled. “I ain’t one of these weak-ass niggas you used to. You understand me?”
Her mouth opened but no words came out. Those sharp eyes that always had something slick to say were wide, shocked. Good. The way her breath stopped, the way her body went still under my touch, it did something to me. Made my dick hard knowing I could make this bossy-ass woman submit with just a touch.
