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he was released onto the streets of Baltimore, instead of being rehabilitated, he had become a ruthless dude with a nothing-to-lose attitude.

    Derek went away to college and only returned to his adoptive home when his father was laid to rest after a long battle with cancer. When the funeral was over, he told his adoptive mother she would never see him again.
    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.
    â€œWhat’s the matter, Fuller?” one of his colleagues asked. “You look like you saw a ghost in that mufucka, Scar Johnson.”
    â€œNah, 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.
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    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