“What, baby?
“Tell him to stop smoking, right now!” He yelled at her.
I stood up in a flash, stepping right in front of him. “Who the fuck you talkin’ to like that?”
“Um…” he mumbled as he cowered back.
“Cannon, please.”
“Nah, this nigga yellin’ at you like he lost his fuckin’ mind. You need to apologize right now!” I said, grabbing him by the back of the neck, squeezing hard.
“Unhand me, please!” He whimpered.
“I will when you apologize!” I squeezed the back of his neck harder. Rage brewed within me, fighting through my veins. I wanted to pummel him for disrespecting my sister but I was trying to control my temper for her sake.
“It’s okay, Cannon,” she begged, trying to make me let go. By now others at the party were gathering around to see the spectacle. This is what they came for. They wanted to see me lose my shit.
“I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry for raising my voice,” he cried out.
I quickly let him go and he instantly began rubbing the back of his neck. I swaggered out of the party, grabbing her keys and heading for the front door.
“Cannon,” she called out for me, but I ignored her.
There was no way I was staying at this house tonight. I needed to start working on my plan A.S.A.P.
Chapter 4
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…”
