Page 22 of Cannon (King Family Saga #3)

Cannon

I’d die or kill for my family. That wasn’t even up for debate.

As soon as the boys told me that they heard their parents fighting, I had my guard up and was ready to go to war.

Seeing that bruise on Reese’s face sealed the deal.

Why would that nigga even try it, knowing my reputation. Did he think I wouldn’t find out?

I’m sure Reese has told him about the times I’ve put niggas in their place for her.

I’m sure she’s shared about the nigga who thought he could get away with trying to steal her innocence.

So why would he bother? Why would he jeopardize his life?

It was crazy to me but maybe he didn’t believe the rumors.

Well, they were true. I couldn’t look myself in the mirror if I let something happen to the women I loved without retaliation.

I tracked Gage down to his fancy downtown office. The club was closed for the night since it was a Wednesday, and I wasn’t about to waste it.

The parking garage was almost empty, just a few cars scattered across the concrete wasteland. I sported a black hoodie pulled over my head so that no cameras could catch my face. I positioned myself between two concrete pillars, the shadows swallowing me whole despite my size. And I waited.

My mind kept replaying the image of Reese’s face, that purple bruise she tried to hide with makeup, the way her eyes darted away when I asked about it.

It was irritating that she even tried to hide it from me.

I get it, she wanted to protect the father of her children but with me around they would never want for anything.

The elevator dinged across the garage, drawing me out of my thoughts.

I felt the fiery rage rush through my body as I sensed him coming.

There he was, in his expensive suit, briefcase in one hand, scrolling through his phone with the other.

Looking so fucking normal. So clean. Like he didn’t go home and put his hands on my sister.

He had no idea I was there. No idea death was watching him from twenty feet away.

I let him get almost to his car, a black Benz that cost more than most people make in a year. Just as he reached for his keys, I stepped out, my footsteps echoing in the concrete chamber.

“Cannon?” His startled voice bounced off the walls. Then he forced a laugh, like we were old friends meeting for drinks. “What the hell are you doing here?”

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.