White Knight (Dirty Mafia Duet, #2)(51)

I leave the journal open, the silk ribbon between the pages, even though I desperately want to keep reading. But even more so, I’m hoping Cannon has come back too.

Spending hours reading about the things these brutal mobsters are capable of makes it even more clear that he is nothing like them. This is something I already knew, but the reading has reinforced it times a billion. Cannon may be the son of Dominic Casso, Marco Ferrari in the book, but there is no way he could do the things that Dom has done.

But what if Dom retires and Cannon decides to take over the family? What then? Would I stand by his side while he ordered the murders of people who had done terrible things?

I love him. That’s not in doubt. But would I still love him if he changed so drastically and became remolded in his father’s image?

My emotions are strung out, and that’s why I have to walk away from the book. Why I have to walk away from this empty little apartment where there’s nothing but me and my thoughts.

I need to see Cannon again. I need to reaffirm that he’s the man I know and love. The one who bought a building because an old man and his pizza shop were going to be evicted. The man who found out that I was investigating him and his entire family, and rather than rat me out to his father, he promised to find a way for me to get justice for mine while still being able to have him.

To say I’m a bit of a wreck right now is the understatement of the century. And when I add my concerns about Cannon taking it upon himself to end this feud that has turned into an all-out war, I just need to fucking see him.

I make my way down to the communal kitchen, where Tanya is accompanied by Grice. The pair pull container after container of food out of the oven and set them on the table where Eden, Bishop, Greer, Cav, and Benny are devouring salads and cold appetizers.

“Is Cannon coming back? Has anyone heard from him?” I ask as soon as I stop in the doorway, feeling defeated that he isn’t here to greet me.

I just want to see him. Touch him. Talk to him.

“He might be at the club,” Tanya says, glancing at me.

“Why would he go there if it’s closed?” When Tanya doesn’t have a response, I look around the room, hoping anyone else might have an answer for me.

Grice is the one who replies. “It’s empty. Perfect for having a meeting with someone you can’t be seen with in public.”

“Like who?”

“Like the cops.” This comes from Benny as he leans back in his chair and laces his fingers together behind his head. “Because Cannon ain’t his old man, and there’s no way in hell that boy is going to go after the Rossettis with guns blazing like Enzo would if he were stepping in for Dom.”

At first I think Benny’s being critical of Cannon and I want to jump to his defense, but then he adds, “He’s a hell of a lot smarter than Enzo, so he’s going to handle this carefully. Like he’s walking around with a live bomb, because that’s basically what the situation is—ready to fucking explode with one wrong move.”

The relief I feel from Benny’s statement drains away just as quickly as it appeared.

“The Rossettis don’t screw around,” Cav says, his tone grave. “They have no problem killing innocents to get what they want. I’ve seen it before.”

“I hate that this is happening,” Eden says, visibly shuddering in her seat. Bishop reaches out to wrap a tattooed arm around her, pulling Eden and her chair closer to his massive frame.

“We’re on the first flight out of here tomorrow. This will all be a bad dream when we get back to NOLA, cupcake.”

Hearing the giant of a man call the petite woman cupcake might be the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard, but Benny interrupts.

“You’re leaving before your pop’s even out of the hospital? Really? That’s harsh, Eden. Real harsh.”

Bishop glares at Benny. “Don’t try to get in her head, old man. Dom would want her safe, and you know it.” His stare touches all of us as he looks around the room. “Dom would want all of you to be safe. When Cannon surfaces, I’m telling him we’re leaving. The rest of you can do what you want. Getting Eden out of here is all I care about.”

He presses a kiss to her forehead, and a wave of warmth washes over me at his protectiveness. I love that she has that, and I know Cannon would do the same for me.

“I agree—you two should go. I’m not leaving until Crey is out of the hospital, though, so let’s eat and wait for Cannon. Then we’ll make decisions about how the next twenty-four hours will go,” Greer says, and we all help ourselves to the food.

Thankfully, Cannon arrives as we’re cleaning up.

I bolt away from the table I was just wiping down and run to him, practically throwing myself into his body. “You’re back. Thank God.”

His strong, capable arms wrap around me and lift me off my feet. “You’d think I’d been off to war with that kind of greeting.” He presses a kiss to my lips. “I love it.”

“Are you okay? What happened? What’s going on? Did you talk to the cops?”

As soon as the word cops is out of my mouth, Cannon stiffens.

“What about the cops? Have they been here?”

I shake my head. “No, but Benny thought you might be meeting them at the club.”

Cannon puts me on my feet and turns to face the old man, who’s still sitting at the table with a chunk of garlic bread on his plate.