The Finale Read Online Free PDF Page B

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.
    â€œI 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.
    â€œYo, 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.
    â€œWho the fuck are you, nigga?” the goon asked.
    â€œTell 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.
    â€œNah, Scar ain’t got no family,” the goon told Derek.
    â€œEverybody 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