Little Layer's Arc

Chapter 3 of 7

Two blocks over, the corners belonged to Jason Knee. Little Layer walked past armed men who watched but did not stop him. He held the torn photo of Big L in one fist. The other hand stayed empty and open, so they could see he came alone. A door opened. A man filled it. Six foot four, arms sleeved in ink, a gold chain heavy on his chest. Layer's heart dropped. He knew that face. He had known it as a boy. "Jason," Layer said. The big man went still. His eyes moved over Layer's face. A boy from the old block. A brother he thought was long gone. His fists dropped to his sides. "Layer," he said. His voice cracked on the name. "Little brother." Layer lifted the photo. His hand shook. "You did this. You killed Big L. He was my boss. I swore to bury the man who shot him." He stepped close. "Tell me it wasn't you." Jason did not lie. He reached out and gripped Layer's shoulder with one huge hand. "Come inside," he said. "You need the truth, not the street's version." Inside, tall plants crowded the windows, purple buds thick on the stems. Jason poured no drink. He faced his brother and spoke plain. "Big L killed our mother. Years back. She was on the wrong corner when his crew swept it. He never even knew her name." Jason's jaw worked. "I found out last year. So I hunted him. I put six in him for her." Layer's legs went weak. He sat on the arm of a chair. The photo slipped from his fingers to the floor. Everything he swore to avenge cracked apart. Big L had murdered the mother Layer barely remembered. His whole plan had pointed him at his own blood, for the wrong reason. "You didn't know," Jason said. "You were feeding off L's scraps. But you're mine. You're the only family I got left." He crouched down to Layer's eye level. "Stop fighting me. Stand with me. I run these blocks now. All of them. Together we hold everything L stole." Layer stared at the fallen photo. The face he had followed for years. The face of the man who took his mother. He picked up the picture, folded it, and put it in his pocket. Not for grief now. For proof. "I walked here to kill you," Layer said. "And now?" Layer stood. He met his brother's eyes. "Now I ride with you." Jason pulled him into a hug that squeezed the air from his chest. When he let go, he pressed a thick roll of bills into Layer's hand. "First cut," Jason said. "You're not L's man anymore. You're my right hand." Layer closed his fingers around the cash. His revenge was dead. But Rob still held forty of his soldiers on the other block. And Rob had refused to march. That debt was not settled. Layer had a new boss now, and a score to collect.