Page 16 of Cannon (King Family Saga #3)

“Since when?” I stopped walking, keeping distance between us. The keys bit into my palm where I was gripping them. “You ain’t been worried about my safety in years.”

“Things are different now.”

“What things?”

“I been thinking about what you said earlier. About ZaZa. About us doing better.”

I almost laughed. “So you decided to lurk in an alley like some creep?”

“I was driving by, saw your car still here. Figured you’d be getting out soon.” His voice had that smooth quality it got when he was trying to convince me of something. “Look, it’s late, you’re tired. Let me follow you home. Make sure you get there in one piece.”

Every instinct I had was screaming at me to tell him to fuck off and walk away. Javi showing up out of nowhere, wanting to play protector, felt too convenient. Too suspicious. Especially on a night when I was already paranoid about notes and threats and people watching my every move.

But the truth was, I was scared. The alley felt too dark, too quiet, and the thought of driving home alone with all this fear eating at me made my chest tight.

“Why?” I asked, studying his face for tells. ”What’s really going on?”

“Nothing’s going on. I’m just trying to do right by you for once. And I want to talk about ZaZa.”

“Whatever…” I said, motioning him along.

I hated myself for letting him follow me home. Hated myself even more for opening the door to my apartment and stepping aside so he could walk in like he still belonged in my space.

But here we were.

Once we were inside, he looked around my apartment as if he were checking for intruders and then stepped closer to me. His energy was nothing like Cannon’s. In fact, I had never felt anything close to what Cannon made me feel from Javi.

“Queen…”

“Don’t.” I held up a hand, stopping whatever apology or excuse he was about to feed me.

“You said you wanted to do right by ZaZa. So talk. What’s that look like to you?”

Javi settled onto my couch without being invited, spreading his legs wide in that way men did when they wanted to take up space.

He was still handsome. I’d give him that.

Still had that smooth caramel skin and those dimples that used to make me forget how to think straight.

But now all I saw when I looked at him was wasted potential and broken promises.

“I want to be more involved,” he started, then reached down to scratch at his left calf through his pants.” She’s been having those episodes, and I know you been handling it alone. That ain’t fair to either of you.”

The gesture was so casual, so unconscious, that it took me a second to register what I was seeing. But once I did, a slow smile spread across my face. The first genuine smile I’d felt all night.

“It still bothers you,” I said.

“What?”

“Your leg. Right there.” I nodded toward where his hand was still absently rubbing.

“Where I put that bullet in you. It still itches you?”

Javi’s hand stilled. For a moment, something flickered across his face. It was shame and embarrassment. Then he cleared his throat and tried to play it off.

“Sometimes. When it’s about to rain. Old wounds, you know how it is.”

I moved to the window, looking out at the city lights that never went completely dark.

“You remember that night? I came home early from the club because I didn’t feel good. I think I had food poisoning. Nori covered for me. I walked in on you and that red bone bitch from your precinct.”

I could see his reflection in the window glass, saw him shift uncomfortably on my couch. Good. Let him squirm.

“Right there in our bedroom. The bed where we made our daughter. You had her bent over the dresser, going at it like you didn’t have a wife and child who loved you.

” The memory tasted like poison, but I kept talking anyway.

“You know what the fucked up part was? Y’all didn’t even stop when I walked in.

Took a whole five seconds before you noticed me standing there. ”

“I was drunk—”

“You were selfish.” I turned back to face him, and he had the decency to look ashamed.

“But you know what? I wasn’t even thinking about that when I went to the safe and got my gun.

All I could think about was how much I loved that bed and would never be able to sleep in it again.

They stopped making those mattresses and I haven’t found anything like it since.

“So I shot your ass. Right in the leg. Wanted to put one in your dick and then your brain, but I figured ZaZa still needed a father, even a trifling one.” I took another sip, savoring the burn.

“And you know what you did? You told everybody, the doctors, the cops, your captain, that it was a robbery gone wrong. Covered for me so I wouldn’t catch charges. ”

Javi was quiet now, his hand unconsciously moving back to that spot on his calf. The spot where my bullet had torn through muscle and tendon and left him with a permanent reminder of what happened when you betrayed Queen Marie Davenport.

“That was the only time you ever did right by me,” I said, my voice softer now but no less cutting. “The only time you put our family first instead of your own selfish wants.”

Javi cleared his throat. “I know I fucked up. I know I can’t take any of it back. But ZaZa needs stability right now.”

“She’ll have it right here with me. You can help out with some cash and maybe find a job for her.

She needs to stay occupied. Also help with paying for one of those Manhattan therapists.

Stop ignoring the fact that she’s sick. Spend some time with her.

She’s not a little girl anymore but she will always be your baby girl. ”

“I’ll do all of that,” he said confidently.

I was still skeptical about the change of heart he was having. I’d make sure to never let him come up here again. I didn’t trust Javi. I know he still wanted me because well, look at me. He fumbled me and ever since then I’ve never let another man in.

“Since you here talking about doing right,” I said, my voice carefully neutral, “I need you to do something for me.”

Javi’s eyebrows raised slightly. “What kind of something?”

“I need you to look into someone. Alfred Dixon from Rocky Mount, North Carolina.”

“Alfred Dixon,” he repeated slowly. “Why and who is that?”

“One of my dancers hasn’t heard from her uncle in a while. She’s worried about him,” I lied. I refused to tell him the truth. I couldn’t go to prison for something I did when I was a kid.

“Which dancer?”

“Keisha Dixon. You don’t know her.” The lie rolled off my tongue smooth as silk, but I could feel heat creeping up my neck. I moved to the window again, looking out at the city instead of meeting his eyes. “She asked me to check on him because she knows I know people who can find people.”

“Keisha…” Javi’s voice had that flat quality it got when he was processing information he didn’t quite believe. “And she can’t call the police herself because…?”

“Because she’s an exotic dancer who doesn’t trust cops.” I shot him a pointed look over my shoulder. “Wonder why that might be.”

It was a good deflection, personal enough to sting, logical enough to be believable. But Javi wasn’t backing down.

“What’s his full name? Address? Date of birth?”

My stomach clenched. These were the kinds of questions that could expose me, and Javi’s training was kicking in hard. I could feel him building a case file in his head, looking for inconsistencies.

“I don’t have all that,” I said, moving to straighten a pillow on my couch that didn’t need straightening. “Just his name. Alfred Dixon. He lives somewhere in North Carolina, I think.”

“You think.” Javi leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Queen, you asking me to run someone through the system with just a name and a general location. That’s not how this works.”

“Look, I know it’s not much to go on,” I said, forcing my voice to stay level. “But she’s really worried. Her mother died and she wants to tell him. She hasn’t heard from him since she was a little girl.”

“Okay…” he looked at me skeptically.

“It’s been years and she wants to know if something has happened to him.”

Something had happened to him. I’d put a bullet in his skull. The question was whether he’d stayed dead or had missing family that knew about me.

“I’ll see what I can find,” he said as he headed out of my apartment.

The deadbolt turned with a decisive click that echoed through my apartment like a gunshot.

I pressed my back against the door, finally allowing myself to breathe now that Javi was gone and I didn’t have to perform anymore. Didn’t have to pretend I was asking innocent questions about some dancer’s missing uncle.

My eyelids began to get heavy and when I finally laid down for sleep, all I could see was Cannon.