Page 119 of Cannon

“Look at me,” Queen commanded, her hand coming up to cup my face, forcing my eyes to meet hers. “This is not your fault. You tried to save her. You showed up when those boys needed you, and that’s what matters now. She manipulated you. She tried to have you sent to prison. She made her own choices.”

I leaned into her touch, desperate for the comfort she offered. The weight of everything, Reese’s suicide, the boys’ future, the blood on my hands both literal and figurative pressed down on me until it felt hard to breathe.

“What am I gonna do with them?” I asked, the question that had been haunting me since I watched the paramedics wheel Reese’s body out. “I don’t know shit about raising kids.”

“You’ll learn,” Queen said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “And you won’t be doing it alone.”

“Wow. You ridin’ with me?”

“Yep,” she responded before turning her attention to the envelope sitting on the coffee table in front of us. “What’s that?” she asked.

“Oh yeah. That was at Reese’s spot. My ex girl… she’s the sister of my homeboy Tyran I told you about. She wrote me a letter. I’m guessing she sent it to Reese because she didn’t have my new address.”

“The fuck does she want?” Queen asked, jealousy burning in her voice.

“Chill baby. Whatever it is, it don’t affect us. But let me see,” I said, chuckling at her reaction.

I reached for the letter envelope and opened it. Inside was a letter and an additional envelope.

The letter read:

“Hey Cannon,

I lost my phone a while back and with it all my contacts, but I still remembered your sister’s address. After Tyran’s funeral, things got crazy going through his stuff. I know you were looking for something of his, and I think I found it.

He had a safe-deposit box I came across. After I finally got access through all the red tape, there was only one thing inside. A letter addressed to you. I didn’t open it out of respect for you and my brother. I’ve enclosed the letter.

If you want to talk, here’s my number: 973-570-8888.

—Draya”

I opened the letter that was found in his safe-deposit box. “Oh shit,” I blurted out.

“What is it?” Queen asked.

“It’s his fuckin’ code to our crypto. Thank God he did this but also, I should raise his ass from the dead and fuck him up.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Cuz this shit could’ve gotten in the wrong hands.”

“Boy, bye,” she laughed while shoving me.

“Seriously. We weren’t supposed to write them down. But I’m just playing. I’m glad he had a contingency.”

“So what does this mean?” she asked, her hand gliding over my thigh.

“I’m about $20 million richer.”

Queen’s eyes widened, her full lips parting in surprise. “Twenty million? On top of the inheritance?”

“Yeah. Forty million total.”

She stared at me for a long moment, then burst out laughing—a real laugh that lit up her whole face and made her look years younger. “Damn, Cannon. A few weeks ago you were sleeping on a mattress on the floor, and now you’re a multi-millionaire.”

I couldn’t help but smile, the first genuine one since I’d found Reese. “Crazy how life works.”

Queen’s laughter faded, replaced by something softer, more serious. She moved closer, her hand sliding higher up my thigh. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispered, her eyes holding mine. “For everything. The way you stepped up for those boys today, how you’ve been handling all this shit thrown your way.”