Page 123 of Cannon

“Queen! How you holding up? I’ve been worried about you.” Nori’s warm voice filled the car.

“I’m…” I hesitated, not even knowing where to begin. “It’s been a hell of a day, Nor.”

“How is Cannon holding up? That shit is tragic.”

I closed my eyes, leaning my head against the cool glass of the window. “He’s being strong. We’re staying at the Waldorf with the boys right now. Cannon’s at a meeting with CPS. He’s trying to get custody.”

“Damn. Y’all moving fast, huh? Instant family.”

“I guess we are.” I hadn’t even had time to process that part yet, that if everything went as planned, I’d be helping Cannon raise those boys. This would be a totally new life for me.

“You know, you’ve had a rough few days,” Nori said, her voice softening. “You wanna link up for dinner later? Take your mind off things? We can hit that new spot on Malcolm X.”

The offer was tempting. An evening with my best friend, good food, maybe a drink or two to numb the edges of everything that had happened.

“Yeah,” I said, surprising myself with how quickly I agreed. “That sounds good. I need to get out of my head for a minute.”

“Perfect. I’ll text you the details. Seven work?”

“Seven works.”

We chatted a bit longer before hanging up. By then, the Uber was pulling up in front of my building. I said goodbye to the driver and headed inside, already mentally listing what I needed to pack for another night at the hotel.

When I unlocked my front door, I immediately sensed something was off. Someone else was in my little oasis.

“Hello?” I called out, my guard instantly up.

ZaZa appeared from the hallway, a duffel bag slung over her shoulder. Her eyes widened when she saw me, like a deer caught in headlights.

“What are you doing in my house?” I demanded, anger flaring hot and immediate. After stealing from me, aftereverything that had happened, she had the nerve to just let herself in?

“I’m just picking up more clothes,” she said defensively, clutching the duffel tighter. “I didn’t think you’d be home.”

“So you broke in?”

“I still have my key, Mama,” she shot back. “It’s not breaking in if I have a key.”

I was about to lay into her when I heard the bathroom door open. A tall man stepped into the hallway, and my blood turned to ice. I recognized that face immediately from the security footage at Sylk Road, from the night Jupiter died.

“Who the hell is this?” I asked, though I already knew.

“This is Marcus,” ZaZa said, moving toward him. “Marcus Dixon. He’s been letting me stay with him since you kicked me out.”

Marcus Dixon. The name hit me like a physical blow. Dixon. Like Alfred Dixon, the man from the hotel room all those years ago.

He approached with an extended hand and a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Nice to finally meet you, Ms. Davenport. I’ve heard so much about you.”

I backed away, my survival instincts screaming. “Get out of my house. Now.”

“Mom!” ZaZa exclaimed, embarrassment coloring her cheeks. “Don’t be rude!”

“No,” Marcus said calmly, his hand dropping to his side. “It’s okay.”

Something in his tone made my skin crawl. I turned to ZaZa, desperate to get her away from him. “That man is dangerous. He’s the one who sold bad drugs at my club. He’s the reason Jupiter is dead.”

ZaZa’s eyes widened in confusion, but before she could respond, Marcus let out a low laugh.

“I’m glad you recognize that,” he said, his voice chillingly calm. “Because I’m going to kill your daughter in front of you. I’m going to take everything away from you, just like you and your mother took away from me.”