Page 39 of Cannon (King Family Saga #3)

I backhanded him across the face, splitting his lip wider. “Shut the fuck up.”

Gunfire erupted outside, short, controlled bursts followed by silence. Creed’s men taking out Smoke’s security detail, which wast the last of his crew. Then the warehouse door creaked open, and Smoke stepped inside, hands raised, looking smaller somehow than I remembered.

“I’m here,” he called out, voice echoing. “Let my son go.”

I emerged from the shadows, gun trained on his chest. “Now, nigga, you know that can’t happen after you shot at me.

“Cannon,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “We can work this out. Whatever you want. Just don’t hurt my son.”

Smoke’s knees hit the concrete floor like he’d been cut down, his hands trembling in the air. “Please,” he whimpered, his voice breaking. “I’ll give you anything. Money, territory, connections, anything!”

This nigga didn’t have shit to give. Even facing death, he was lying.

I circled him slowly, savoring the moment. This man who’d once seemed larger than life, who’d strutted around in furs and gold chains, commanding respect with just a look, now reduced to a sniveling mess on a dirty warehouse floor.

Laughter bubbled up from my chest, wild and uncontrolled. “Look at you,” I said between laughs. “Beggin’ like a bitch.”

“I’m sorry,” he pleaded, tears streaming down his face. “For everything. You were like a son to me. I made mistakes.”

“Mistakes?” I spat, my laughter dying. “You threatened Queen. Had your boys shoot at me. Those weren’t mistakes. That was you forgetting who the fuck I am.”

“We’ll disappear,” Smoke promised, glancing at Nero. “You’ll never hear from us again. I swear on everything.”

Riot stepped forward, disgust written all over his face. “This pathetic motherfucker really thinks he’s walking out of here.”

Without warning, Riot fired a single shot into Nero’s knee. The sound of the bullet was nothing compared to Nero’s scream, high and agonized as blood spurted from the wound.

“NO!” Smoke lunged toward Riot, his face contorted with rage.

I squeezed the trigger twice, catching Smoke center mass. He staggered backward, eyes wide with shock, hands clutching at the spreading crimson stain on his chest.

“You…” he gasped, sinking to his knees.

I crouched beside him, watching the light already starting to fade from his eyes. “Before you die, I need to know something. Who in your crew set me up to go to prison? I was driving my personal car that day. I never kept product in there. Someone planted that coke and called in the tip.”

Blood bubbled at the corners of Smoke’s mouth as he struggled to breathe. “Don’t… know…” he wheezed. “Swear to God… wasn’t me…”

“He’s lying!” Nero screamed through his pain. “Dad, please! Just tell him!”

I turned to Nero, raising an eyebrow. “You know something, little man?”

Nero’s eyes darted between me and his dying father. “If I tell you, will you let him go? Please?”

“Maybe,” I lied smoothly. “Tell me.”

“It was me,” Nero confessed, words tumbling out desperately. “Silas King paid me to do it. A lot of money. I planted the coke in your car and called in the anonymous tip. Please, let my father go!”

The revelation hit me like a physical blow. Nero had been just a teenager when I got locked up. Silas King, my half-brothers’ father, had used him to get me out of the picture. Everything connected in a sick, twisted circle.

I laughed, but there was no humor in it. Just the cold satisfaction of finally knowing the truth.

“Your father’s free to go,” I said, pressing my gun against Smoke’s temple and pulling the trigger. Blood and brain matter splattered across the concrete. “To hell.”

“NO!” Nero screamed, thrashing against his restraints. “You said you’d let him go! You promised!”

“I said maybe,” I corrected, wiping blood spatter from my face.

Nero kept fighting, jerking so hard against the zip ties that his wrists started bleeding. The wild desperation in his eyes reminded me of a trapped animal. “I’ll kill you for this! I swear to God, I’ll…”

Riot stepped forward and put a bullet through Nero’s head, cutting off his threats mid-sentence. The sudden silence was deafening.

“Problem solved,” Riot said, holstering his weapon.

I stared at the bodies, father and son, finally united in death. The vengeance I’d waited five years for should have felt sweeter, but all I tasted was ash.

“You good?” Creed asked, his hand on my shoulder.

I nodded, my eyes still on Smoke’s body. “Yeah. Just processing.”

“Silas,” Riot muttered, shaking his head. “That nigga reaches from the grave.”

“He wanted me out of the picture,” I said, the pieces finally clicking into place. “He knew who I was. Knew I was Tessa’s son with another man. Couldn’t stand the thought of me being out in the world.”

Creed’s face hardened. “Sounds like him. Vindictive to the end.”

“We need to clean this up,” Riot said, all business now. “I’ll call our guys.”

I nodded, already heading for the door. The night air hit my face, cool and clean compared to the stench of death inside. My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Queen. I let it go to voicemail. I couldn’t talk to her yet, not with blood still drying on my hands.

“Where you going?” Creed called after me.

“I need a minute,” I replied without turning around.

The weight of everything, Reese’s betrayal, Nero’s confession, Smoke’s death. It all pressed down on me like concrete. Five years of my life gone because a sick old man couldn’t stand that I existed. The same man who’d tortured my half-brothers, who’d forced my birth mother to give me up.

I leaned against the SUV, staring up at the stars barely visible through New York’s light pollution.

For the first time in years, I felt something like peace starting to take root.

Smoke was gone. The man who’d threatened Queen was no longer a problem.

And I finally knew the truth about who’d set me up.

But peace never lasts long in my world. My phone buzzed again, insistent. This time I checked it.

A text from Queen: Something’s wrong at the club. Need you here NOW.