CANNON
STITCHED UP KNIFE WOUNDS, bullet holes were fucking child’s play compared to the shit that unfolded in front of my eyes.
And this one, motherfucking damn it, hurt as hell.
I had a kid. Jesus Christ, I had two. Two boys that looked like shit because their pussy as fuck mother couldn’t tell me about them.
She’d tried to run.
Like a fucking pussy, she’d tried to run and for the fuck of it, I was ready to shoot. I was ready to shoot her brains the minute my two kids called her their mother.
One of them looked like me while the other had inherited her caramel hair. Fuck!
Whipping out my cell, I made a call angry as fuck at the turn of events.
He answered on the first ring.
“I don’t care whether she’s your responsibility or not. We land, I’m taking out my shit on her”
“By killing her?” Berkely countered and the thought of it didn’t sound too bad.
