Lamar's Arc

Chapter 2 of 2

Lamar sat in his black Acura with the engine off. The photo and receipt lay on the passenger seat. He had the name he wanted. Now the paper could get Azah killed. His crew knew his car, his pockets, his stash spots. If they found the proof, they would trace it straight to her. He needed to hide it somewhere nobody would think to look. He drove back to the pale house with the red door. Azah opened before he knocked, the baby still strapped to her chest. Her jaw tightened. "You came back with it," she said. "That means you didn't ditch it." "I can't carry it," Lamar said. "My crew searches me. They search my car. They find this, they find you." "So you brought the danger to my door again." She looked past him at the street. "Smart." "I got a plan. But I need your hands." She stared at him a long moment. Then she stepped back and let him in. Lamar laid the photo and receipt on her kitchen table. He pulled a lighter from his jacket. Azah grabbed his wrist. "No," she said. "Burn the photo and you lose his face." "I memorized the face. The name too." He tapped his temple. "The paper's the only thing that points at you. So the paper disappears." She let go. He flicked the lighter. The flame caught the photo first. The young man's smile curled and went black. Then the receipt. The printed name browned, then vanished. Lamar held the pages over the sink until they were ash. He ran the water and washed the ash down the drain. Azah watched the whole thing. Her shoulders dropped an inch. "Now there's no proof," she said. "No proof it came from me." "No proof," Lamar said. "Just me knowing. And I don't tell." But she shook her head slow. "You don't get it. He doesn't need proof. He needs a guess. The second you move on him, he'll ask who could've known his old face. There's one name on that list." She touched the baby's back. "Mine." Lamar's stomach dropped. He had burned the paper to protect her. Instead he had only bought time. "Then you can't stay here," he said. "Not when I make my move." "This is my son's home." Her voice cracked. "You want me to run with a newborn?" "I want you alive." He pressed his palm flat on the table. "Pack a bag. Somewhere he can't reach. I'll come when it's done." Azah looked at the empty sink, then at Lamar. For the first time she wasn't angry. She was scared. "You better not miss," she said. Lamar walked out to the Acura. The proof was gone. The name lived only in his head now. But the kingpin would still come hunting a source, and Lamar had just become the one thread tying Azah to the river.