Page 53 of Cannon
I moved closer, taking my time. No rush when you’re the predator. “Why did you put your hands on Reese?”
His face changed quick, fear flashing across his features, ready to defend himself. “I swear I didn’t. We had an argument about money again. Things got heated. Her spending and gambling is getting out of control. I yelled but I never ever touched her.” He raised his hands like I had a gun on him. Maybe he thought I did. “Outta love and respect for her, I would never ever hit a woman.”
I studied his face, looking for tells. The slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. The sweat beading along his hairline despite the garage’s chill. Everybody lies. Especially cowards staring down death.
“The boys heard you,” I said, my voice deadly quiet. “Fighting. And that bruise on her face? You think I’m stupid?”
“Yes they heard us arguing. And I don’t know about a bruise on her face. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Listen, she’s all yours. I don’t even want her anymore. I don’t need these problems.”
Something snapped inside me. Like she’s some possession to pass around. Like she ain’t worth shit.
My hand shot out, grabbing his throat before he could blink. I slammed him against his car. His eyes bulged as I squeezed, watching the fear bloom across his face.
“All mine? She’s not a fucking toy.”
I let go of his throat just so I could drive my fist into his jaw. The crack was beautiful, like music. His head snapped back, blood spraying from his mouth onto that expensive-ass suit.
Before he could even register what happened, I was on him. My fists became hammers, each blow harder than the last. I caught him in the temple, the nose, the ribs…anywhere I could reach. His expensive watch scratched my arm as he tried to block me, but it was pathetic. Like swatting at a hurricane.
“Please—” he gurgled, spitting blood.” I swear?—”
I didn’t want to hear it. My knuckles split open on his teeth, but I barely felt it. The rage was too pure, too complete. I grabbed him by his silk tie and slammed his head against the concrete floor. Once. Twice. The wet thud echoed through the garage.
“That’s for my sister,” I growled, driving my knee into his stomach.
His pleas turned to whimpers, then to wet, choking sounds as blood filled his mouth. I kept going. Couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to stop. Each punch was for Reese. Each kick was for my nephews. But something else was driving me too, something darker.
When his body finally went limp beneath me, I stood up, breathing hard. Blood covered my hands, spattered my hoodie. Gage lay motionless, his face unrecognizable, a dark pool spreading beneath his head on the concrete.
I stared down at what I’d done, chest heaving. This wasn’t just about justice. This was about me. About reminding myself that nobody fucks with what’s mine and lives. The world needed that reminder sometimes.
I wiped my knuckles on my hoodie, then knelt beside him. With steady hands, I unclasped his Rolex, the one Reese had saved for months to buy him for their anniversary. I took his wallet from his inside pocket, emptied the cash, and tossed the leather case aside. Just another robbery in the city. Happens every day.
I leaned down close to what remained of his ear.
“That’s what love look like, nigga,” I whispered.
Then I was gone, melting back into the shadows like I was never there. I tossed my hoodie in a dumpster outside of the subway, revealing a black t-shirt. I didn’t want folks on the train to see the blood although it was barely noticeable. Besides, in this crazy-ass city no one is paying anyone any mind.
The subway car rocked as I sat in the back corner, hood still up, hands still tingling. The adrenaline hadn’t worn off yet. My body felt electric, alive in a way I hadn’t experienced in years. The bodies I caught in prison were different. I was just protecting myself. Catching a body for someone I loved, lit me up in a different way. It made me feel like I had a purpose.
A woman glanced at me, then quickly away. I checked my reflection in the window, no visible blood aside from my hands which I kept hidden. Just my ice-blue eyes staring back, colder than usual.
Killing Gage was inevitable. The moment he raised his hand to Reese, he signed his death warrant. I just delivered the sentence.
My mind drifted to Queen’s club, to the way Javi kept showing up unannounced. Watching her. Making her uncomfortable even though she tried to hide it. The way he’d lean in too close when they talked, his hand lingering on her arm.
My jaw tightened. Queen deserved better than that punk-ass nigga. The fact that she’d ever been with someone so lame, so unworthy of her fire, made my blood boil. And the fact that he kept coming around, acting like he still had some claim on her…
If it came down to it, I’d do the same to Javi without hesitation. Queen might not be blood, but I was gonna make her mine. And I protected what was mine.
Chapter 21
Queen
ZaZa and I had dinner together the other night and it went smoothly. I think she’s finally coming around to the idea that she will be living with me. I’m still nervous because I know how those mood swings can be. My mother’s were insane. There were times when she was on top of the world but then there were other times when I had to step in and be the mother.
My mother’s lows always seemed to happen after she hit a big lick. Like the time she grifted a church into giving her $35, 000 for my cancer treatment. Once that check cleared, she got severely depressed. Imagine having to walk through a grocery store alone at nine years old with a bald head and shaved eyebrows. It was awful.
