Page 7 of Cannon

“You too scared to tell Nero to zip his dick up. What the fuck you gon’ do when there’s a real security threat?”

He opened his mouth, closed it.

“I gave you this job ’cause Nori begged me to. But I can’t let my loyalty to her cost me my safety or the wellbeing of the club.”

“But Queen…”

“I’ll give you two weeks’ severance and a recommendation. But I can’t have you in my club.”

“Aight, bet,” he said as he walked away.

I still had other bouncers but I needed someone to oversee them. I needed someone who could be my eyes and ears when I wasn’t here. Someone who could handle the tougher aspects of the job. I was a boss bitch but I needed muscle.

Before I could dwell too long on that, my phone buzzed.

It was a text from my ex-husband, Javi.

Javi: Need you to come down to the precinct. Now.

I stared at the screen. My throat tightened. In my heart I already knew what this was about.

Chapter 3

Cannon

Despite being free, I ain’t feel like it yet.

Once we left the prison, I drove to Reese’s townhouse in Jersey. When we got there, she had a new iPhone waiting for me and bags of new clothes. I appreciated it, but I hated feeling like someone was taking care of me. I was the type of nigga that did for myself.

But whatever, I was finally out and surrounded by family.

My nephews, Hunter and Josiah, ran to my arms as soon as I walked through the door. Hunt was ten when I went away, but Josiah had just been born. He didn’t know me like that, but he was still happy to see me. And I was happy to see them. Their letters and pics kept me going through them long-ass nights. I used to trace their handwriting with my thumb, reminding myself what I was fighting to come back to.

It was good to be back with family.

But there was no way in hell I was staying in this house. Two nights tops, and then I was gone. My main reason? Gage, Reese’s husband. That nigga didn’t like me, and I hated his stuffy ass. If I stayed here too long, I’d end up doing something I’d regret. And I loved my sister too much to kill her man in front of her.

He was polite enough. Tight smile. Offered me a drink like we were boys. But the way his eyes lingered on my tattoos, the way he over-explained how to use the damn thermostat like I was dumb? Yeah. I saw all that shit.

But I had plans on getting out. I wouldn’t be at this house too long. Before I was locked up, I stashed a lot of money away in crypto with a buddy of mine. While running these streets, I pretty much saved most of my cash because I knew there was always the possibility that I could get caught up.

While playing ball, years ago, I met a kid named Tyran who I ended up selling coke to. I dated his sister for a bit, but we didn’t last. However, he became one of the very few people I considered a friend. He was into tech and told me about Bitcoin and other cryptocurrency. With his help, I invested the bulk of my money along with his. Our money was locked in an account that requires two-person authentication. No one had access to my password but me and no one had access to his but him.

The last time we spoke was when I called him a month ago letting him know I was getting out. He was excited because our investment had grown to over seventy million, with more than half of that being mine.

He was the first person I called when I set up my new iPhone. But he didn’t answer and that was frustrating the fuck out of me.

But tonight Reese was throwing a kickback to welcome me home. I ain’t feel like that shit though. I didn’t want a bunch of mothafuckas celebrating me for getting out of prison like I was graduating college or some shit. This was not some great accomplishment. But I had to let Reese do what she wanted. If she wanted to throw me a little party, then so be it.

Reese was the only person I ever trusted to hold me down. We got adopted together. Raised together. Survived our adoptive mother’s breakdown together after our adoptive dad died. I kept her in school. Sent money from the streets when shewas at Hampton for undergraduate and NYU Law. Hustled like my life depended on it so she didn’t have to.

And now here we were.

She was in a nice townhouse with two sons and a job as a lawyer. I was a convicted felon with not much to my name. That would change soon. I had some irons in the fire but there was some work to do first.

The kickback was in full swing. Music thumped, liquor poured, folks talked and laughed. I was the only one not laughing. Prison broke my smile. It killed what last bit of joy I had in me before I went down. I was already at the end of my rope before I got sent away and being locked up sent me over the deep end.

I spent a lot of time in solitary, enough to be very well acquainted with my demons. And there were many. That shit changed me for the worse.