Cannon (Carolina Reapers 5)

It felt like slow-motion, but in reality, my grip snapped open as I found the strength to let her go. That protective instinct swirled in my gut, pairing with that heavy, sweet ache in my chest to turn me inside out.

Protecting her meant keeping my damned hands off her, which I vowed right there and then to do. Besides, she was everything I hated, right? Obviously wealthy, educated, and a member of the upper class who had always sneered at those more unfortunate than they were.

Right. I should have hated her.

I should hate her designer shoes, her diamond stud earrings that were bigger than most engagement rings, and the refined way she held herself.

There was only one problem with hating her.

One fucking look and I’d been a goner.

My hands clenched at the memory, at the effort it had taken to let go of something so innocent as her elbow. Now I knew her—I knew her heart, her soul, and her mind. I’d found solace in her arms, and mind-bending pleasure in her body.

I knew the taste of her kiss, and the depth of her pure, unscarred heart—a heart that had tricked her mind into thinking that she was in love with me.

My cell phone dinged with yet another text—no doubt another article publicizing my evil temper and her naiveté for marrying a man like me. Another article shaming her.

This wasn’t her elbow anymore—it was her future, and I wasn’t sure I was strong enough to let her go this time.

I loved her. My soul belonged to her.

I had to protect her…even if she’d hate me for it.

20

Persephone

Raised voices tumbled through the half-open window of my old room in my parents’ house, so I set my coffee down in a hurry. When I heard Owen—Cannon’s nephew—start wailing, I rushed outside, not even bothering to shut the door.

Early morning light illuminated the dark scene—Cannon’s father, somehow on my property and yelling at Lillian, who tucked a crying Owen behind her back.

“You get your no-good piece of shit brother out here right now!” Cannon’s father yelled, jabbing a finger toward Lillian. “Or I swear to God I’ll—”

“Excuse me,” I cut him off, stepping between him and Lillian, so close I had to push his hand away so it didn’t touch my face. “I’m not sure how you got on my property, but you’ll be leaving now.” I typed a fast text to Gerald, knowing he’d make it around to the back of the estate in minutes.

He sneered. “I had an invitation,” he said, waving a familiar piece of cardstock between us. “Some Ms. Conroy sent it to me. Security didn’t think twice. Dumbasses.”

My heart clenched—Ms. Conroy was my mother’s personal assistant. She must’ve overlooked the fact that this man was definitely not family. Fire boiled in my blood as his eyes fell back to Lillian, who stood trembling behind me, her eyes drenched in panic, fear.

“Fetch him,” he said to her. “Now.”

I glared at him before turning to Lillian. “Take Owen inside,” I said, motioning to the main house where a proper security detail would be waiting. Not to mention the handful of Reapers who’d gathered to scarf down the brunch spread we’d served in the formal dining room. Not Cannon, though, but I assumed—or hoped—it was because he was on his morning run.

She hesitated, her eyes darting between us. “I’m fine,” I assured her. “Please, Lillian. Get Owen a second breakfast or some chocolate milk.” The little boy stopped crying for a moment upon hearing that, and Lillian nodded as she scooped him up and hurried toward the main house.

Cannon’s father moved to follow her, and I stepped in his path, putting my back to the main house but effectively stopping him. He glared down at me, surmising my tiny frame which he easily towered over.

“I’m not afraid of you,” I said, though adrenaline rushed through my veins. All I had to do was keep him occupied long enough for Gerald to get my message, or for Lillian to alert the house—where half the Carolina Reapers had slept last night. “And I don’t know how you came by that invitation, but it clearly wasn’t issued to you. Only family was invited.”

“I am that boy’s family.” He scoffed. “Blood.” He shook his head. “I should be ashamed to admit that too. He’s the laziest, most arrogant piece of shit there is. Won’t even take care of his kin. Problematic. Always has been. That’s why his poor sister never got adopted when I lost my rights. Every bad thing in her life and mine is because of him. Because his stupid mother spoiled him rotten. I tried to make him a man, but he never did listen. And that temper of his?” His eyes trailed the length of my body, and suddenly I wanted a second shower. “You’re hiding bruises under that pretty little sundress, aren’t you?”