Page 23 of Cannon (King Family Saga #3)

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.

I prayed that ZaZa would get better. I’d hate for life to become a series of severe highs and lows. I’d hate to keep having to pick up the pieces too.

“You don’t need to buy any other tequila but Casamigos and Don Julio. That Patron has sat on the shelf for four months,” Nori said as she went through my liquor inventory spreadsheets.

“I know. No one likes it anymore. I’m thinking of doing a special to get rid of it tonight.”

“You need to,” she chimed in.

“I know I don’t thank you enough for doing my accounting. But thank you.”

“You thank me just fine with what you pay on a part time basis,” she laughed.

“True but I couldn’t trust anyone else with this. You hold my baby down,” I said lifting my hands around at my club.

“Speaking of babies, how is your demon spawn?”

“So far, so good. I just pray it lasts. Girl, why is Javi trying so hard to get back in my life. He’s been showing up for ZaZa and swears he’s gonna get her a job.”

“That’s because he can smell that YN energy in here. You know niggas got sixth sense when some other man is feeling you. They gotta come in and try to fuck it up,” she pursed her lips.

“You think that’s what it is? It ain’t like there’s anything going on between us…”

“Oh there’s something going between y’all. Why you actin’ so scared. Let lil boy clear those cobwebs. Shit at least dust it off a lil bit,” she laughed as she stuck her tongue out in all its vulgarity.

“I am not fuckin’ Cannon. He’s too young and he’s arrogant. He treats me like he’s tryna own me. And I’m a boss bitch. Don’t no nigga own me.”

Nori rolled her eyes and laughed at me. “Well pass him along, I need a young nigga to own me.”

All I could do was laugh at Nori and her ridiculousness.

She knew she wasn’t letting go of that old man she was fuckin’ with so I don’t know why she bothered.

But I did feel a tinge of jealousy when she asked me to pass him along.

If I saw him with another bitch, I’d flip the fuck out.

I’d hate to whoop my best friend’s ass but I think I would for Cannon.

“Well sis, when you stop acting scared, go get you some before he end up with one of those hoes on the pole,” she said as she stood up.

My face must’ve turned in pure darkness because she said, “See right there. You can’t stand the thought of him with someone else. Get it together.”

“Bye,” I dismissively waved her off.

“Uh huh. Run the special on the Patron. I’ll holla at you later,” she said before disappearing down the hall.

I was about to run those numbers again when my phone rang.

The screen lit up with a name that always made my stomach drop: ADELE.

My mother. I stared at it, feeling like I’d been punched in the gut.

The last time we spoke, she had me come over and then that note appeared on my windshield.

I knew that she left it to spook me. That man was long dead.

I almost let it go to voicemail, but experience told me she’d just keep calling. With a deep breath, I answered.

“Hello?”

“Baby girl, thank God you answered.” Her voice was frantic, breathless. “I’m in trouble. Big trouble.”

Here we go. I pinched the bridge of my nose. “What kind of trouble, Ma?”

“They’re watching me. I can see them outside my window right now.” Her words tumbled out fast, slurring slightly. “It’s a man in a black car. Been there for three days. I think they might be feds, or maybe those Jamaicans I owed money back in the 2000s.”

I closed my eyes, trying to stay calm. “Have you been taking your medication because I’ve paid those Jamaicans for you.”

“This ain’t about my meds!” she snapped. “This is real! I need to get out of town, like yesterday. I need you to give me some money baby girl. Help me get out.”

And then it hit me. That’s what the note was all about.

She was trying to set me up for a big ask.

I told her years ago I was done with giving her money.

And when she married that rich guy, she stopped asking.

But by now, she’s probably blown through her cash.

It’s crazy, she’s been doing so well the last few years. As well as can be.

“I can’t give you money, Ma,” I said, my voice firmer than I expected. “Every time I help you, it just enables more of this paranoia.”

“This ain’t paranoia!” she shrieked. “You think I’m making this up? I need twenty thousand dollars to disappear. Just for a little while.”

“Twenty thousand?” I nearly choked. “Are you serious right now?”

“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t life or death,” she whimpered, her voice suddenly small and vulnerable. The quick shift in tone was so familiar it made my skin crawl. “Baby girl, please. You’re all I got. I raised you the best I could…”

“The best you could?” I cut her off, memories flooding back.

“You mean like when you shaved my eyebrows off and told everyone I had cancer? Or when you forged my signature to take out credit cards in my name? Or how about when you disappeared for weeks and I had to figure out how to feed myself at eleven years old?”

“That’s not fair,” she hissed. “I was sick. I’ve apologized. I’ve done better but…”

“But nothing. I don’t have any money for you.

I’ve given all I can give. I have a business to run and a sick daughter to care for.

The buck stops here. I’m sorry, Mama. It’s so fucked up that you would go through these great lengths to manipulate me.

Please don’t call me anymore,” I said as I hung up on her.

I blocked her number as I began to feel myself have a panic attack. My breathing became erratic and I tried my best to slow it down like my therapist had taught me.

My hands began to tremble and memories of me pulling the trigger on Alfred flood my brain, burning down my spine. My mother triggered this in me. I stood up and walked it off. I eventually found myself on the main floor near the bar.

“Give me a double shot of Patron,” I demanded of the bartender. I might as well drink the liquor that I couldn’t sell.

“You want me to start a tab for you?” he smiled back.

“Boy don’t fuck with me right now…”

Chill, I told myself. Things would be okay.

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.

The bartender poured my shot, sliding it across the bar with an apologetic look. I knocked it back in one swallow, letting the burn of the liquor distract me from the trembling in my hands.

“Another,” I demanded, tapping the glass on the counter.

“You sure that’s a good idea?”

I whipped around at the sound of that deep voice, coming face to face with Cannon. Where the hell had he come from? His oceanic eyes scanned my face, seeing too much as usual.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low enough that only I could hear.

“I’m fine,” I snapped, turning back to the bar. “Don’t you have something to guard? Or are you just following me around now?”

Instead of answering, Cannon gripped my elbow, his touch firm but not painful. When I looked up at him, his eyes had gone cold and hard. That look, the one that said he wasn’t taking any of my shit today, made my stomach flip.

“Follow me,” he said. Not a request. A command.

Before I could protest, he was guiding me away from the bar, his large hand at the small of my back as he led me through the crowd.

I wanted to fight, to dig in my heels and refuse to be handled like this, but something in me couldn’t resist following him.

My body moved on autopilot, my mind still reeling from my mother’s call.

We made it to the stairs, and he practically marched me up them, his grip never loosening. When we reached my office, he pushed the door open and guided me inside, kicking it shut behind us.

“What the fuck do you think you’re—” I started, but before I could finish, Cannon had me pinned against the wall, his massive frame caging me in. His hands pressed against the wall on either side of my head, his face inches from mine.

“What’s wrong with you?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. “And don’t lie to me. I can see it all over you.”

I tried to push him away, but it was like trying to move a brick wall. “Get off me, Cannon. I’m not in the mood for your shit right now.”

“I don’t give a fuck what you in the mood for. You’re in the mood for whatever I tell you you’re in the mood for. This ain’t some game for me.” He pressed closer, his body heat enveloping me. “I’m trying to figure out what the fuck is wrong with you.”

I felt the wall solid against my back, his arms creating a cage I couldn’t escape. My heart hammered in my chest, anger and arousal mixing dangerously. I wanted to slap him, to scream, to tell him to back the fuck off, but another part of me wanted him to stay exactly where he was.

“Maybe I need to fuck whatever this is out of you,” he growled, his lips so close I could feel his breath on my skin. “Maybe that’s what you need right now.”

The boldness of his words should have infuriated me. Instead, a shock of heat rushed through my body, settling between my thighs. My nipples hardened against my silk blouse, and I knew he noticed because his eyes flickered down for just a second.

“I’m just stressed.”

“About what? Who the fuck I gotta kill?” he growled.

I looked over at his hands and saw that they were bruised and cracked.

“It looks like you’ve already killed someone.”

“Yeah, and what’s another?” he slyly replied, with a glare in his eyes that looked both menacing and sensual.

And then I felt the rush of wetness between my thighs. I wanted him. And no amount of deep breathing or Patron was going to calm down my nervous system. He was the elixir I needed.