Page 34 of Mr. Calloway

I could tell he didn’t like my words because his face became angry. He knew I was right, and it didn’t matter how much he tried to control everyone here; he couldn’t. He let me go and turned to walk away when, suddenly, the back of his hand struck me. The sting sizzled my face, and rage filled me, making me lunge forward, swinging at him wildly.

“They’re going to fucking kill you!” I shouted.

He shoved me so hard I fell to the floor. “They won’t do shit!” he gritted. “You are like everyone else on this muhfucka. A lost little bitch who doesn’t know which direction she is going in. You are just like your mother—hopeless, disconnected, and fucking pathetic. You think I came from the shitty-ass hood to be down-talked by a girl who can’t even be honest with her fucking self? Do you think?—”

The door opened to Russet coming in. “Mighty One, allow me to teach her the ways,” he pleaded and bowed.

The Mighty One sweated profusely as he wiped his head. “Get her out of here and put her back in the hole.”

Russet helped me up and started pulling me out of the house, but I was fired up. “Fuck you! You’re a dead man!” I shouted as I grabbed the candle near the door and chucked it at him. Once we were out of the house, Russet held my hand as we ran toward a cabin on the other side.

When we stepped inside, he lit a candle, giving the single room light. “I need you to do whatever they tell you,” he said.

Confused, I sat in the only chair he had in here. “I’m not falling for any of this, and neither should you.”

“I’m not,” he mumbled.

“Huh?”

“I have been following this cult for the last year. I’m a reporter, Samara. My name isn’t Russet. My name is Devon.”

I shook my head. “I fucking knew it.”

“Your mother is in deep, and I don’t think there is any saving her. However, we can try to save you, but it will not happen if you continue to act like this.”

“If you know so much, why are you still here?”

That was when he froze. “I came to save my wife, but I haven’t seen her. For a while, I thought there was maybe a different commune he was holding people on, but the more the cult moved, I realized that either he killed her or she left, but until I find out, I’m not going anywhere.”

He began to rummage through a chest he pulled from under the makeshift bed. I leaned forward slightly to see a bunch of papers, pictures, and a phone. Devon quickly glanced over his shoulder, and I looked away.

Moments later, he came to the table, dropping a folder in front of me, and the first thing I saw was a mugshot of theMighty One. He wasn’t bald in the photo, nor did he have the glow.

“Rayshawn Becker, three-time felon, con artist, and a list of other things. He’s a dangerous man, and if you think these people are just calmly walking around, not willing to protect him, then you are mistaken.”

Devon thought I was worried, but I wasn’t. He gazed at me for a second, then heckled. “Let me fetch you some water,” he said. “Stay here and do not leave. I’m sure we will figure this out.”

My brows raised. “Fetch? I think you have been here a little too long.”

He laughed as he went to walk out of the cabin.

“I will be here when you get back.” I shrugged. “Where can I go? I’m trapped, remember?”

He gave me a tight-lipped smile before he walked out the door. As soon as I felt he was far enough away, I rushed over to the chest, grabbed the phone, and turned it on. All I needed Dio to do was answer his fucking phone.

June

I was determined not to waste any more time. I needed to get everything sorted out before Savior's release. Although I hated to leave my son, I understood that the Samara situation required more than just Dio.

I secured Peace in his car seat, got in, and drove away. My goal was to reach Yana so I could proceed with my plans. As I drove just a few blocks from the hospital, I noticed a car following me. I went around corner after corner, and they were still behind me. I thought it was the same car that was outside my house, but I soon realized it was different. I adjusted my mirror to get a better look into their heavily tinted window.

“You on some fuck shit,” I mumbled as I leaned over, popping my glove compartment.

Taking out my gun, I placed it on my lap. I turned to see Peace calmly chilling while my senses were on high alert. This wasn’t fight-or-flight; it was solely to shoot and kill. Protecting my son was my only thought, and whoever this muhfucka was, they had better move around.

My phone rang, distracting me with a call from Z. “Talk to me,” I called out, still peering in the mirror.

Her voice was anxious and a bit frantic. “I got her license plates. June, I’m telling you she knows where Samara is. I can feel it.”