By the time I was done, Saint and Legend were still laughing, and I was looking at my son like he was one of the opps.
“He did that on purpose,” I muttered.
Legend clapped me on the shoulder. “Welcome to fatherhood.”
I looked down at Cairo, all clean again and making little satisfied noises like none of that had been his fault. And even with the smell still lingering and my stomach still not fully recovered, I smiled. Because if this was what came with him, then I was taking all of it.
ICON CARTIER
I had taken Livia far north on purpose, all the way out to a quiet upscale suburb where nobody tied to the Crown should have expected us to be. The restaurant sat tucked off a polished little strip with expensive boutiques, valet out front, and white people walking up and down the street.
I had taken her out, trying to give her something normal, since our movement had been limited the past few weeks because of the Crown.
We came out of the restaurant a little after ten with three of my men spaced around us; one ahead, another off my left, and the other behind, watching the angles.
Livia was talking as we walked. I don’t even remember what she was saying now. I think it was something about how good the bread pudding had been. Her hand was hooked in the bend of my arm, and I was thinking about how good it felt to have her close and out the house.
Then the first shot cracked through the air. My lead guard took it and dropped before I could wrap my head around what was happening.
The second shot hit almost at the same time. The man off my left jerked and folded straight down.
Then the one behind us hit the pavement hard and Livia finally found her voice and screamed.
Everyone on the street started to scream and take cover.
It happened so fast it felt unreal. Three of my men were down in seconds, and there was no visible shooter. I grabbed Livia and threw her behind me while my other hand yanked my piece from under my coat. “Get down.”
She was already crying out, trying to make sense of the bodies hitting the ground around us.
More shots rang out. Glass exploded from a parked car to my right. Something sparked off the curb. Whoever was shooting had an angle on us, but not a clear enough one to finish us.
I was trying to find the direction of the fire when a man burst out of the bushes lining the walkway to the lot. He came fast, grabbed Livia around the waist, and dragged her back against him before I could close the distance. His arm locked around her upper chest, and the knife in his hand went up to her throat.
“Icon!” she screamed.
I had my gun up instantly, but every inch of him stayed tucked behind her.
He started backing toward a dark van parked farther down the row. “Drop it.”
“Let her go!”
Every time I stepped closer, he pressed the blade in harder.
A thin line of blood started at her neck.
That made me black out.
Livia cried out and clutched at his arm. “Shoot him! Shoot him, Icon!”
I wanted to, but he had her so tight against him that one wrong angle would put a bullet straight through the love of my life. My hand stayed steady because it had to, but everything inme was going mad wanting a clean shot that wouldn’t take her life.
“Stop fucking walking!” I roared.
He smiled just enough to let me know he thought he had me right where he wanted me. He kept dragging her backward. Livia’s heels scraped the pavement. Tears were all over her face now, and I couldn’t stomach it.
So, I took the shot. Livia screamed as he used her as a shield. I held my breath until I realized the bullet missed. I felt the failure, but I was also relieved it missed because if it had drifted even a little in the wrong direction, I could have put that round in her.
He responded with a ragged laugh and kept dragging her. “You almost killed your wife.”
