Page 5 of Cannon (King Family Saga #3)

Queen

My chest was caving in. Tight like someone had wrapped a belt around my ribs and kept pulling until it cut through bone.

By the time I burst into the precinct, my throat was dry, my palms were wet, and I could barely see straight through the blur of fluorescent lights and rage.

I scanned the room, eyes darting like prey in a trap, until I saw him, my ex-husband, Javi.

He was standing near the front desk, arms crossed, jaw clenched, shaking his head like this was just another mess I’d made that he had to clean up.

I didn’t wait for him to speak. “Where is she?” I snapped, heels hitting the floor like gunshots.

“They’ve got her in holding. Alone,” he said, his voice flat, eyes cold.

I stared at him, trying to make sense of the words. “Why the fuck isn’t she in a hospital?”

His expression hardened. “Because the responding officers didn’t think she was a danger to herself or anyone else. Said she was just some drunk girl dancing naked, swinging on a damn light pole, yelling ‘Take me to Sylk Road.’ Like it was funny.”

My hand went to my chest, like I could hold my heart together. “She’s not just drunk,” I whispered. Then louder: “She’s having a psychotic break. You know this. You’ve seen it before.”

He shook his head and looked down at the ground.

Aside from his cheating, this was a major reason why we divorced.

He didn’t believe in mental illness. He thought it was something that she could turn on and off, but I knew the truth.

I had so much practice dealing with mentally ill people, I recognized it in my daughter when she was young.

I sought to get her help and Javi became hands off.

Untreated bipolar I disorder was taking its toll on my baby. I wanted her to get proper help and she wouldn’t receive that in jail.

“She’s sick, Javi. She needs to be admitted for observation. A seventy-two-hour hold. At least.”

He threw his hands up. “And when is she gonna learn, Queen? When is she gonna be responsible for her own damn behavior? She’s not thirteen years old anymore.”

“She’s not well!”

“She’s like this because you coddle her,” he barked. “You excuse everything. Always have. You act like she’s fragile but she’s just fucked up, and you made her that way.”

I slapped him.

Not even a hard one, just a quick sting across his face to shut his goddamn mouth. His head barely moved, but his eyes narrowed into slits.

“Say that shit again,” I whispered, my voice shaking. “Say it again, and I swear to God…”

We stood there, locked in silence, my hand still trembling from the contact. He looked at me like I was a stranger. Maybe I was.

“I’m taking her to a hospital,” I said, backing up.

“No, you’re not. She needs to learn what consequences look like.”

“She needs help.”

“And maybe if you weren’t so busy running your little strip club empire, she would’ve had it.”

Before I could lunge at him again, a female officer nearby stepped in.

“You can see her,” she said gently. “Just for a moment. This way.”

I rolled my eyes and stepped away. Javi was a detective in this city, but he didn’t have a lick of compassion. Cops like him scared me. They didn’t know how to, nor care to handle people with mental illness.

The hallway felt longer than it should’ve. Like time was stretching itself thin just to fuck with me. My heels echoed with every step. The scent of old coffee, sweat, and cheap sanitizer clung to the air like guilt. The officer opened a door and gestured inside.

ZaZa was sitting on a bench inside a small cell, wearing gray prison sweats and mismatched socks. Her hair was wild, her eyes wilder. The second she saw me, she shot up like she’d been hit with a live wire.

“Mommy!” she cried, racing to the bars, hands reaching through like a little girl asking to be picked up. “Please let me work for you! I can dance! I can really dance! I wanna be on stage like the other girls. Take me to Sylk Road, please! I can be just like Jupiter!”

My stomach twisted. I staggered back a step, mouth dry, throat closing.

She was glowing. Not with joy, but with mania. Her pupils were blown wide. Her voice was too high. Her movements too sharp, like she was trapped in some euphoric, invisible rave.

I turned to the officer, fury replacing my fear.

“If she’s not in a hospital within the hour, I will have every news camera in New York in your face. I will sue this city, this precinct, this department, and every damn cop in it. This is a sick girl. Not a criminal.”

The woman hesitated. “She was arrested for public intoxication.”

“And I’m telling you, unless you want the biggest lawsuit on your hands, get her to a hospital now!”

She then nodded. “We’ll start the transfer paperwork. She’ll be taken to the hospital for evaluation, but will remain under arrest.”

I exhaled so hard my knees buckled. I didn’t say thank you. I just stared at ZaZa, who was still smiling like she’d won something.

And all I could think was: God, is this my fault?

I passed these genes on to her. I should’ve taken heed when I learned that bipolar disorder could be genetic. This mental disease ruined my entire childhood, since my mother was plagued with it. My mother has bipolar and so much more.

Like my mother, ZaZa refuses to take her meds.

But when she does, she’s leveled. My babygirl is enrolled at the New School for dance.

She’s nineteen and one of the most talented dancers I’ve ever seen.

I don’t even know why in her mania she would want to strip.

There’s no way in hell I would allow her to do it.

While they worked on the transfer, I stepped back into the lobby. Javi had already left. He was no help at all. He’s been pretty hands off with our daughter since she turned eighteen. She’s been arrested two times before and he’s used his connections to get her out. But this time he didn’t.

I was left alone to deal with ZaZa’s ups and downs. But I was determined to get my daughter the help she deserved.

Once she was transferred, I went to the hospital to make sure she was situated. But since it was after visiting hours, I wasn’t allowed to stay. Restless, I headed to a bar that wasn’t too far from The Sylk Road. My mind and heart were heavy. Something had to shift soon or I was gonna lose it.