Mr. Calloway

Prologue

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“Mr. Calloway, we didn’t think we would see you again. You were adamant about not coming in for check-ups.”

I had pushed the thought of returning to this cancer center far from my mind.

After surgery, I had only visited once and convinced myself I was healed and would never need to enter a room like this again.

The sensation of my body in agony, my mind exhausted, and feeling of being two breaths away from death was something I preferred not to dwell on, and being here challenged that.

Yet, my twins were here, Samara was off at college, and Zaria was managing our business and running the household.

I felt like I not only owed it to myself but also to my family to continue this journey.

Although Zaria hadn’t said anything, I knew she was worried that I wasn’t doing the work after the surgery.

Now that things were finally settled with Bishop, and Zaria and I had been remarried for a few days, I wanted to start this second chance on the right foot.

From the time I stepped out of the hospital, the monster inside me thrived.

I felt untouchable, as if nothing or no one could touch me, until the idea of me losing my family was at stake.

I’d promised to simmer down and truly give myself a chance.

The only difference from then and now was that I knew I had a village behind me, and what damage I couldn’t do, they would.

It took a different type of courage to do shit like this. As the man many looked up to or depended on, I knew I couldn’t be that without being that to myself first. So, here I was with the doctor now standing in front of me, ready to give me news I hoped wouldn’t break a nigga’s heart.

He glanced over the charts and then looked up at me. “How are you feeling? Do you have any concerns?”

“I feel fine. I eat healthy, I exercise regularly, and I feed my brain what it needs.”

He nodded as he moved around the room. My eyes stayed on him as I studied his mannerisms. Eyes on the chart, slight hand tremble, swallowing deep, but didn’t seem nervous. “As of right now, everything looks good, but Mr. Calloway—”

I shook my head because he knew the rules. He swallowed deeply. “—If you can, please fill out the form for me. It’s good to have on record your family history.”

I snatched the paper. This was the same question the doctor back in California asked when I found out I had the cancer.

The idea of family being brought to the forefront bothered me.

I wasn’t a man with that, and the more it was brought up, the more it irritated me.

My family wasn’t blood, and no matter how much I explained, no one would understand.

I got up from the table, leaving the paper on it. “I don’t have a family.”

He looked at me, confused. “I’m sure you have a close relative.”

“Sir, my life is something you wouldn’t understand. All I care about is the family I created. I have twin boys and—”

“Ah, what I will say is you need to have them checked as well. Since you don’t know your family’s history, I would suggest keeping your current family healthy.”

What did that mean? Were my boys going to have cancer? Before he walked out the door, I stopped him.

“Your words don’t sound too promising. Do I need to worry about my kids?

I don’t have time for the mind games. Coming from a foster home, not truly knowing anything about my past, and then finding out about the cancer and trying to fight it is like survival of the fittest. My support came from friends, and my kids’ support will come from me.

If I need to prepare myself, then you need to go back through that goddamn chart and tell me something.

I mean, their mother is healthy. Shit, I—"

I found myself rambling because he brought up my kids. I didn’t know whether to take his word or believe in my mind that my kids were going to be okay.

He gave me a tight-lipped smile. “I can’t say I understand, but what I will say is for a man who was nearly on the brink of death, overcoming something so significant takes a lot of courage.

Mr. Calloway, you are a man who was somehow given a second chance at life.

Not many people get that, so, for the sake of your children, give them that chance too by getting them checked; otherwise, you need to fill that paper out so I can try to come up with some sort of conclusion for you. ”

After he walked out the door, I stood there, not sure what to think.

The last thing I needed was to bring another problem to Z.

I turned to look at the paper before snatching it up.

How was I supposed to fill this shit out?

My father was six feet in the ground, his side of the family was non-existent to me, and the piece of shit family I did know wasn’t one I could go to and ask.

The last person who would give me any information was my arch nemesis, Clark.

He himself was like cancer. The way he had spread his disease throughout the Cove and Lake Hill was massive and needed to be stopped.

There was no room for conversation between him and me because the idea of him standing in front of me meant an automatic kill.

So, this family history situation would lead me to the only person willing to tell me anything, and that was Cynthia.

The walk from the back room to the exit felt so familiar, just like the day I discovered the disease.

However, when I stepped outside the facility, all of the crew sat waiting.

They didn’t ask any questions as each and every single one of them sat on their bikes, helmets on and visors up.

I gave them a slow nod before hopping on my bike and putting on my helmet.

Before flipping my visor down, I glanced at my crew, my tribe, my pride one last time.

My hand went up, and they all started their bikes.

I spun my two fingers in a circle, and they revved up.

I pointed toward the parking lot’s exit, and they went one by one.

“Hail to fucking king!” Diamond said as he passed by.

“God got you!” Preach came in.

That was when I heard Foe cackle before speaking. “Only nigga I know who can come out Chevy tough.”

“I love you, my nigga,” Zu said.

“Thanks for all you do!” Streets chimed in as he stopped in front of me, then took off.

Peanut and Mali said nothing but nodded before taking off.

Monfua popped a wheel. “Respect, Chevy!”

Beans threw up the peace sign and sped off.

With each of them speaking through the helmet, it made me feel like every single thing I’d done leading up to this very moment had been worth it.

From every dollar I took from Matthew that day and poured into niggas I didn’t know, to being a big brother and father to young niggas who just needed a little guidance, to finding out that found family is just as worthy as blood family.

An idea for a biker crew, born of my best friend and me, that turned into something much bigger than races.

The Zoo was solid, memorable, and a pride of people that I could say was worth every fucking trial.

I knew this moment of feeling just a tinge of love would only last for so long because the way my life was set up, the shit was merely a fairytale.

Things were okay for now, but there was a bigger disease lurking; it just hadn’t approached me yet.

Zaria’s hands on my face brought me back to reality, as I had forgotten that she and I were slow dancing. “You want to talk about it?” she asked as her worried eyes devoured mine.

There was so much I wanted to say, but the timing wasn’t right. We were here to celebrate Dio’s and Samara’s engagement, and bringing up Clark, death, and what I felt wasn’t an option.

I pulled her body closer to mine as I leaned forward, kissing her. “I’m good, baby,” I whispered.

Honestly, after all the immense bullshit I’d gone through this past year, I just wanted it all to be over.

I didn’t want to stress my wife or my niggas with any more of Chevy’s problems. However, the life the Creator saw fit was one written especially for me, and with each obstacle I conquered only left me to face another.

A nigga was tired. This had to be my curated version of happiness because the fluff clearly wasn’t for me.

In the meantime, I needed to get lost in the very person who turned this rough nigga into a lover, and that was Z. The fact that she accepted each one of my personalities was something I often thought about.

I was ready to give everyone, including her, one version of myself.

The one who encompassed and defined everything I was.

Mr. Calloway was the man everyone had been waiting to see.

He wasn’t just a vegan plant man, but a father, husband, king, killer, millionaire, and most of all, he was the man who—no matter how many times people tried to recreate him—just couldn’t possibly be replicated.

I knew that to be him, I had to shed layers of myself I had become attached to, and with that came Clark. He was a part of my past that needed to go.