The Finale (4 page)

He had never forgiven her for years of sexual abuse, which had followed him like a looming nightmare. He always felt like he had no control over his own body or his own sexuality. When he began having sex for pleasure with girls his age, his body would betray him. His body would overpower his will not to ejaculate quickly.

Derek immediately moved back to Baltimore. Maybe, just maybe, he would run into his real mother or his brother.

After a year of looking for corporate jobs, he joined the Maryland State Police, hoping to become a state trooper. He had long since given up the active search to find his mother and brother again. In fact, he didn't know the first place to look. Checking the foster care system had turned up nothing on Scar. Those records were sealed on kids that aged out of foster care anyway.

Then one day, as a highway patrol trooper, he walked into the squad room of the Narcotics Unit to get a white powder test done on a substance he had seized during a car stop, and right on the wall was a huge poster with his brother's face and name plastered on it—
WANTED: STEPHON “SCAR” JOHNSON, REWARD
$10,000 He stared at the picture for what had to be ten minutes. When it had finally sunk in that the man in the picture was really Scar, Derek got so nauseated and weak, he almost threw up.

“What's the matter, Fuller?” one of his colleagues asked. “You look like you saw a ghost in that mufucka, Scar Johnson.”

“Nah, nah. Just looking around,” Derek said, quickly pulling himself together before anyone caught on to his interest in Scar. After seeing that picture, Derek was hopeful again, and he set out to find his brother.

When he pulled Scar's criminal history, he learned just what his brother had been doing since he had last seen him at five years old. Scar had a rap sheet as long as a city block. Derek learned that Scar had become the founder of the notorious Dirty Money Crew, a crew of killers that had murdered their way to the top of the Maryland drug trade. Though Scar was on the other side of the law, being his blood, Derek was still determined to find him one day.

Derek worked hard to prove himself as the best trooper on the streets, just so he could get enough clout in the department to put in his application to join the drug team. He was a man on a mission. After six months, he made the Narcotics Unit, officially becoming a jump-out boy. Every time he went out on a jump-out operation to pick up the hand-to-hand street pharmacists, he was hopeful he would run into Scar or get some information on him.

Finally, Derek and his team jumped out on a set of corner boys, and it just so happened the little dudes they picked up were down with the Dirty Money Crew, and low men on Scar's payroll. It didn't take long for Derek to get one of them alone and promise him freedom if he told him where to find Scar.

At first, the little soldier was living by the street creed— No Snitching! But the longer the boy sat in a cell, unable to use the bathroom, get anything to eat, and with no phone calls, he finally gave in and provided Derek with the information he needed.

 

 

Derek had sat undetected outside of all of Scar's trap houses for weeks, but Scar never showed up. Being out there, he figured out every drop-off and pick-up time. He had numbered Scar's workers and tried to figure out who was a higher-up, which meant he was probably closest to Scar. Derek noticed one particular dude as the most consistent player at all of the trap houses, and he never stuck around long. Derek reasoned he was the lieutenant, in charge of bringing the re-up and picking up the profits.

Derek decided to tail him, and sure enough, one night he followed the dude right to his leader. His heart thumped wildly when he peeked out of his windshield and saw Scar in the flesh. There he was, his long-lost brother, all grown up and the leader of a crime syndicate. Derek could recognize that scarred face and huge head anywhere.

Both proud and sad, he wondered what their lives would have been like, had their mother not abandoned them that fateful night. He figured the big-ass man that had beaten his mother unmercifully had probably returned and killed her, and he had long convinced himself that she was probably better off dead than running the streets chasing crack.

Derek had watched Scar that first night without revealing himself, although he wanted to rush out of the car and embrace his brother with a big hug and a sincere apology. He didn't know how his brother would react to him, or if he would even remember him. Conflicted, Derek went home to his then girlfriend, Tiphani, and confided in her: He was a cop and his brother was a wanted criminal. Tiphani told him to do whatever would make him happy.

For two days Derek changed his car and disguise and watched his brother. Finally, he felt he had grown the balls to reveal himself to Scar. He walked up to Scar's bar and lounge, Katrina's (named after their mother), which also housed Scar's office in a secret room in the back. He was stopped at the door and asked what his business was, since it was a bit early for patrons.

“I just wanna get a drink, man,” Derek said to the goons protecting the front door. Long fuckin' day.”

The front door man surveyed Derek, trying to see if he could tell if this square was a cop or fed. Since he was dressed like a typical street dude, Derek was allowed entry.

Derek ordered a few drinks to build up his courage. “He's your little brother,” he whispered to himself, “li'l Scar head.”

Walking to the back of the lounge, Derek encountered yet another layer of security, a tall, muscular dude.

“Yo, man, I need to see Scar,” Derek said to the dude, trying to sound as street as he could. Derek had lost that edge a long time ago, so it was a stretch for him.

“Who the fuck are you, nigga?” the goon asked.

“Tell Scar I got information on his family.”

The goon crinkled his face in confusion. Everybody on the street knew Scar always proclaimed he was a purebred street nigga born from the concrete. No mother, no father, no family.

“Nah, Scar ain't got no family,” the goon told Derek.

“Everybody got family. Now tell him I got information on his family,” Derek said forcefully.

Scar's security guard reluctantly went behind the secret door, which was obscured with police grade double-sided glass. Two minutes later, the man returned and said to Derek, “Scar wants to know, if you got information on his family, where was his mother's birthmark?”

Derek swallowed hard as his mother's face came flooding back to his mind's eye. He could see her brown sugar–colored skin and straight white teeth so clearly smiling at him, but those memories were from a time when things were so good for them. The last time he'd laid eyes on his mother, though, she was a gaunt skeleton with missing teeth and riddled with bruises.

Shaking his head left to right, Derek tried to get it together. “It–it was a heart-shaped, cherry-colored mark on her left cheek,” he said, barely able to get the words out, “and she used to call it ‘a mother's love' and tell us she got it from our kisses.”

The man was really confused when Derek said “our kisses.” He looked at Derek wildly and then disappeared. Within minutes the man returned, and Derek was allowed to follow him back to the secret office.

When Derek stepped into the room, it was like time stood still. Scar was sitting behind a huge mahogany desk like the CEO of a legitimate company, his face looking much improved. His scar actually made him look dangerous, instead of ugly and deformed like it did when he was a kid. Who would've thought an ugly birth defect could benefit him? Derek, thinking his eyes were deceiving him, was at a loss for words as he stared at Scar, and his legs grew weak, threatening to fail him.

“Ain't this a bitch! My big brother,” Scar said, standing up and stepping from behind the desk.

Derek was still speechless. He didn't know whether to cry, scream, or say sorry.

“I know the cat ain't got your tongue, nigga. You ain't happy to see your little brother after a hundred years and shit?” Scar grabbed Derek for a manly hug.

“I'm just so fuckin' happy to see you, man,” Derek, shaking all over, finally managed to say. “I'm so sorry I couldn't keep my promise at the time. I was a kid. They snatched me away from you. I had promised Mommy—”

“C'mon, man, I don't hold you responsible for nothin'. Them white people ain't care nothing about two black little niggas tryin'a keep whatever piece of family they had together. I ain't never blame you, my nig. Besides, if shit didn't happen the way it did, I wouldn't be the king I am today.” Scar offered his dumbfounded brother a seat.

“I told Mommy I would always take care of you. I'm back and I will keep that promise,” Derek assured his brother.

And he wasn't lying. Although he had pledged to uphold the law of the State of Maryland, Derek had another chance to keep his promise to his mother and he vowed he would forever be his brother's keeper—if his brother wanted to be kept. From that day forward he helped Scar stay one step ahead of the law. One step ahead of the jump-out boys and the narcs.

But when the heat got turned up on Derek to make some big busts, he spoke with Scar, and they agreed to put on their little show. Scar agreed to take a fall to help his brother look good in the eyes of the department and the public. That's why Derek Fuller would always be grateful to his brother and never forget the sacrifice he'd made for him.

Halleigh sighed in relief when she saw the car diminishing in her rearview mirror. Her heart was still pounding in her chest. She peered in the backseat to check on her son and saw that he was sleeping in his car seat. He had no idea what had just gone down, and frankly, neither did Halleigh. She knew this was more than her being paranoid. Somebody had tried to follow her home. She didn't know who it was, but she was sure she was in danger. She could feel it in her bones that something bad was lingering closely and she had to let Malek know.

“Malek!” she yelled as she raced into the house. “Malek!” She went through their apartment, turning on every single light in her home. Her distressed yelling caused her baby to begin to cry, and his wails filled the house. Realizing that Malek was nowhere to be found, she tried him on his cell phone.

“What's up, Hal?” he asked, upon answering.

“Malek, somebody tried to follow me home today!” she yelled, still in a panic.

“Halleigh, ma, we've been over this. Nobody is going to touch you here. Nobody's after you.”

“Malek, I saw the car. I spun the block like you taught me. I'm sure—”

“Hal, baby girl, we'll talk about it when I make it home. You're safe. I'ma keep you safe, a'ight. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you again.”

Frustrated, Halleigh hung up the phone. She wasn't as weak as Malek thought she was. Halleigh was hoping she could convince him to see things her way before things got bad and it was too late.

She securely locked the front door and checked every window before she staked out on the couch with her son lying on her chest, and waited for her man to make it home.

 

 

The next day Halleigh didn't even mention what had happened because she knew no matter what she said, Malek would simply brush her comments under the rug. She could feel him watching her with worry in his eyes.

“I'm fine, Malek,” she said.

He stood and walked over to her, shirtless and sexy. “You've got to stop thinking that everyone is out to get you, ma. This is a new start for us, Hal. Nobody's gon' find us, and ain't nobody gon' touch you or my seed. I'll die first. I know Mitch fucked up your head when he took you, but I handled that. The nigga's a memory, but I can't fight your ghosts for you, ma.”

Halleigh nodded as she rose out of their bed. “I've got to go to the bookstore today, baby. I'm working until close.”

Halleigh left the baby with Malek and then dressed quickly before exiting the house.

Detective Rodriguez watched Halleigh emerge from her house. Today she was eager to follow the young woman. Whatever was going to go down with Halleigh, the detective didn't plan on missing it.

She followed Halleigh to Security Square Mall. She knew she was in store for a long day of waiting.

 

 

Work couldn't go by quickly enough for Halleigh, and as the mall closed down, she prepared to leave. The parking lot was dark when she stepped outside, and as she sped up her pace to hurry to her car, she didn't notice she had company.

Toy and Tasha sat watching Halleigh, but they in turn didn't realize that Detective Rodriguez sat at the south end of the parking lot watching them too.

Halleigh clutched her shoulder bag tightly, feeling the security of the .45 tucked inside. Her stiletto heels clicked against the pavement as she hightailed it to her car.

Feeling uneasy, she decided to make sure no one was following her before she headed home, so she pulled out of the parking lot and took the long way to her house, stopping to run a few errands on the way, all the while keeping her eyes on the same black car with Toy and Tasha.

“Fuck is this bitch doing? I'm getting real tired of playing cat and mouse,” Toy stated.

Halleigh had pulled her card and was tired of playing games as well. She was done running and being the victim. It was time for her to find out who was behind the black tint. Her loaded courage was in her purse, and she figured that whatever they wanted, it was going to be handled tonight because she refused to bring the devil to her front door. She had a son to think about; it wasn't just about her. And whatever beef was looming in the air, she was about to cook it.

Her pounding heartbeat drowned out the sound of everything around her as she pulled into the deserted lot of a closed convenience store. Just as she predicted, the black car was not too far behind. Tired of being prey to this unknown shark, she got out of the car, clutching the gun from inside her purse.

The black car parked at the other end of the lot in an attempt to be discreet, but Halleigh had already peeped game. There was no use in pretending. She wanted to know who was inside the car.

She began to walk across the parking lot, and when she was halfway to the car, she yelled, “Why the fuck are you following me?” She attempted to put some bass in her tone, but the quivering of her voice revealed her fear.

As she stood her ground, she watched as the car before her turned off its headlights, and a car door opened.

 

 

“Get out of the car,” Toy said.

“What?”

“She trusts you. Get her to come over to the car.”

Tasha watched as Halleigh held her ground in the middle of the deserted lot. “And then what?”

“Then we make her take us to Malek.”

Tasha had not planned on getting this involved. She had helped Toy find Halleigh and had even lured her out of her hiding place, but now Toy wanted her to basically help snatch her off the street. She started to say no, but the venomous look in Toy's eyes told her that it was do or die. She sighed as she climbed out of the car.

“Halleigh!” Tasha exclaimed as she walked over to her. “I've been following you for twenty minutes! Why is your phone going straight to voice mail? I've been trying to get you to pull over for miles.”

“Tasha?” Halleigh yelled in confusion. She sighed a breath of relief. “What the fuck are you doing? Why are you following me?” She threw her arms up in frustration. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“I went to meet you at your job, but you were pulling out when I was pulling up. I tried to call you and let you know I was behind you, but your phone was going straight to voice mail.” Tasha knew her excuse was flimsy, but she was hoping that Halleigh was still as naïve as she'd always been.

“Fuck, Tasha! You out here like a stalker. I didn't know who you were! Were you following me yesterday too?” Halleigh yelled angrily. She put her hand over her racing heart.

“What? Hal, of course not! Why are you spazzing on me? I just thought we could go out for drinks. You told me you worked at the mall, so I decided to meet you after work, but you got out of there like a bat out of hell. I couldn't keep up.”

Halleigh nodded and calmed down a little, not wanting to overreact. She was the one who had invited Tasha to come to Baltimore to visit her.
She's your friend. Stop tripping
. She noticed the black Charger was still running. “Who's in the car?”

“That's my boyfriend. He flew in to surprise me last night. I want you to meet him.” Tasha gushed. “Then maybe we can go for that drink?” She put her arm around Halleigh's shoulder. “It looks like you could use it, and someone to talk to. I know you, Hal. You're stressing about something.”

Halleigh nodded and then stepped over to the car. It was comforting having her friend by her side. She began to doubt herself.
Maybe Malek's right. Maybe I am tripping.

As soon as she stepped over to the car, Tasha pushed her from behind as the driver of the car stepped out and grabbed her neck violently. She looked into the eyes of the driver and knew she was in trouble. This was the girl she'd been running from. She didn't need an introduction. The menace behind her gaze told it all. Mitch's sister, Toy, was standing in front of her face, and she could see the rage, the hate, and the vengeance in her eyes.

“You bitch!” Halleigh yelled as she lunged for Tasha. “How could you! I have a son, Tasha! You dirty, grimy-ass bitch.”

Toy slapped Halleigh across her face so hard, her neck snapped back, and stars appeared behind her eyes.

“Look, ma, I don't got time for this ra-ra shit. You know who I'm after. We could have avoided this entire li'l confrontation if you had just led me to the nigga, but you wanted to jump bad and play detective. Well, now you know who's behind the tinted windows, ma. Where's Malek?”

Toy spoke so smoothly, it almost sounded like she was trying to seduce Halleigh rather than threaten her. She did not need to raise her voice to get her point across.

Tasha said, “Halleigh, just tell her. You heard what she said. She ain't worried about you. She only wants Malek. That high-school love bullshit is played, and you know it. Stop being stupid, and think about what's best for you. Do yourself a favor and just tell her where he is.”

“Fuck you! I'm not telling shit. You dyke-ass bitch, you'll never get to Malek.”

There was no way she could tell Toy how to find Malek. That would be putting her son at risk, and he always came first.

Toy punched Halleigh in the face with so much strength, it sent her to the ground. She popped the trunk of the car. “Get the fucking duct tape out of the back of the car,” she told Tasha.

Halleigh held her face as she rolled onto her side. “Aghh! Shit!” She spat blood out of her mouth. She opened her eyes, and the first thing she saw was her purse lying next to her. She remembered the gun was inside, and without thinking, she jumped at the opportunity. She reached inside the purse for the gun, wrapped her hands around the trigger, glad that she had left the safety off, and aimed at Toy's chest and fired.

Bang! Bang! Bang!