The Finale by Treasure Hernandez Page A

approach.
    Halleigh, unable to maintain her composure, ran to him and fell into his arms.
    Malek held her face in one hand and caressed her cheek gently. “Did they touch you?” he asked, pain and anger apparent in his voice.
    â€œNo, no, they just hit me when I wouldn’t get out of the car,” Halleigh lied. “I’m so sorry.”
    â€œWhat are you sorry for, ma? This isn’t your fault. The whip can be replaced; you can’t. I love you, Halleigh. I would go crazy if anything ever happened to you.”
    Detective Rodriguez walked over to the couple. She had an inside-joke smirk on her face. “Halleigh, I will be in touch,” she said. She handed her a card. “You can contact me anytime if you need me.”
    Halleigh nodded, feeling extremely uncomfortable. “Can we get out of here?” she asked Malek.
    â€œYeah, let’s get you home,” he said as he kissed the top of her head.
    Halleigh grabbed her son out of his arms and cradled him closely as she allowed Malek to lead her out of the precinct. She could feel Rodriguez’s eyes following her every move, burning a hole in the back of her head. She began to cry softly.
    Malek tried to give her space, figuring she was just feeling vulnerable because of her experience. He was supportive and told her that things would be fine, but on the inside he was furious.

Chapter Seven
    Derek Fuller and his crew stood in front of Malek’s crack house, all of them wearing concealable bulletproof vests. They were about to ambush his spot and shut down his operation.
    After Scar had given Fuller the rundown on Malek, they immediately began to plot. Scar wanted Malek’s upcoming business to be stopped before it got too big, so Fuller grabbed his trusted squad and set up a raid to try to scare off Malek.
    â€œOne, two, three,” Fuller said as he watched as his crew hold the battering ram, preparing to cave in the door.
    On cue, they burst through the door and rushed into the spot, guns drawn.
    â€œEverybody on the floor!” Fuller yelled as he rushed in.
    What he saw blew his mind. The house was empty. Only a single card table sat in the middle of the floor. It had Fuller confused, and he and his crew stood there scratching their heads.
    â€œFuck!” Fuller turned around in a full circle, scoping out the room. “Bullshit!” He kicked over the table. “Somebody must have tipped him off.” He shook his head from side to side, his hands on his waist.
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    Malek sat in his crack house as he observed his youngsters cook, cut, and package the coke. He had set up shop in one of his many spots earlier that day. Malek never stayed in a spot for more than a week, and luckily for him he’d evaded the cops by the skin of his teeth without even knowing.
    Malek saw the money going through the cash machine and got a flashback to when he was getting money in Flint. He took a seat at the table and got a bad feeling. He didn’t get into Baltimore’s drug game to take it over. Just enough to stack a little paper and then retire from the game for good.
    He went into the back room where his right-hand man, Dayvid, was at. “I got to let this shit go,” he said to him.
    â€œWe just got started,” Dayvid said, loading the duffel bag with money as it came out of the machine. “You going to let all of this shit go?” He looked at him with a furrowed brow.
    â€œYeah, I got a shorty to think about. I never wanted to stay in this shit. I’m just trying to stack a little paper and bounce. I’ma hand this shit over to you.”
    â€œWord?” Dayvid said, liking the sound of what Malek had just said to him. Dayvid was only nineteen, but by being under the wing of Malek for the past year, he grew up quick. Malek had taught him everything he knew and was molding him to be a kingpin.
    â€œYou ready for this?” Malek asked.
    â€œI was born ready.”
    â€œOh