Chapter 17 Ilya #2
Adam scowls, but he doesn’t react. He must not speak any Russian.
Micah’s voice is desperate as he says, “I didn’t tell him what you said, about… I didn’t.”
He could mean all sorts of things.
I’d told him so much.
I clutch my cell phone and walk toward the back door. As soon as I open it, I spot Boris waiting on the other side.
“Boss?” he asks. “Somebody said the pigs are here?”
“Yeah.” I sigh. “It’s Micah’s ex-boyfriend. Or current boyfriend. I don’t know.”
“I told you so,” Boris mumbles. “What do you want to do?”
I shrug. “Nothing. There’s nothing for them to find at the restaurant. I might even have grounds for suing the city, if I can argue that they’re costing me business.”
Boris laughs loudly about that. “Yeah, if you want them to take a closer look at everything.” He sighs and leans against the concrete wall. “I cleaned up a bit downstairs. I didn’t want to kick everyone out though, because it’d be too obvious if everybody leaves at once.”
“Good thinking.” I wish I was a smoker now, so I could have something to do while I wait for the whole commotion to be over.
The back door opens, and I glance over my shoulder.
Adam is there, dragging Micah along by the arm.
“Thought you would run?” Adam growls at me. “Don’t even think about it.”
“I didn’t run,” I point out. “I’m here still.”
Adam looks around the small courtyard. I grimace internally when his eyes land on the door leading to the gambling den.
Adam approaches the door, still dragging Micah.
I grip Adam’s arm as he passes me. “Let go of Micah. He’s not part of this.”
Micah glances at me, his eyes still glassy with tears. He seems like he’s about to say something, but one look at Adam has him falling silent.
I can see the way he’s shrinking in on himself, the way he’s losing himself more and more with each passing second.
I don’t want to be erased, he’d said.
“Not part of this?” Adam sneers. “You hired him, didn’t you? Paying him with your illegal funds. Fucking foreigners, coming here, ruining our cities. Go back to your country and pull this shit there.”
It’s such a familiar argument that I burst out laughing. Adam is clearly taken aback by my reaction.
“This shit? New Bristol doesn’t want good Russian food?” I give Adam a nasty smile. “I am restaurant owner. Nothing else.”
“Save it for the judge.” Adam glances at Boris. “You, Ivan. What the fuck’s behind that door?”
Boris pretends not to understand. “What’s he saying, Ilya?” he asks in Russian.
“He wants to know what’s behind that door,” I answer, suppressing a smile.
Boris looks at Adam, then says, still in Russian, “I don’t know. Some defunct restaurant?”
Adam is clearly frustrated by not understanding us. He growls and shoves at the door.
It’s locked, but Adam lets go of Micah and gives the door a hefty kick. The frame cracks. Another kick, and the door flies open.
Well, fuck.
I should have replaced the door frame with something sturdier.
“Let’s see what you’re hiding, motherfuckers,” Adam growls. He reaches for Micah again, but I get between the two of them.
“Leave him,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.
Micah’s expression gets more and more bleak. “It’s fine,” he says quietly. “He’s not going to… to hurt me.” If I wasn’t listening so closely, I might not have heard the way he’d stuttered. “But Adam, I shouldn’t be here. I’ll go back into the restaurant and wait for you there.”
“Christ, are you slow?” Adam says to me. “Your boy toy informed on you! But you still want to believe he fucking cares about you? Micah only cares about himself.”
No. Whatever Adam says, I know that’s not true.
He wants to be a manipulative bastard? He is nothing compared to my father.
Another officer walks out from the restaurant. “Hey, Sawyer, we’re coming up empty.”
“Like I said,” I say. “This was wild duck chase.”
“Arrest Zima,” Adam snaps. “And Ivan here too. I’m going to check out the rest of this building.”
“There is no rest of building,” I protest. “You have no grounds for arrest.”
Boris tenses up as the cops approach him. I give him a small shake of my head. Better to be arrested and have the lawyers talk us out than to cause a bigger scene.
I don’t want Micah to get caught up in anything.
“Adam,” Micah protests. “He’s not—” He glances at the other officer and cuts himself off.
Adam pins him with a glare, and Micah steps back.
The officer looks between them. “Who’s this guy? Should I arrest him, too?”
“Yeah,” Adam says. “A few hours in a cell might get him to open up a bit more.”
Micah reels back. “Adam?” he whispers. He’s breathing more quickly now as fear overtakes his expression.
“Do not touch him,” I snap at the officers. “You’re already arresting me. Leave Micah alone.”
Boris glowers at me. “Boss. Who cares? The kid is clearly in on it.”
“I care,” I answer in English. “If you hurt Micah, you motherfucker, I will find you and I will give you a real reason to fear me.”
Adam sneers back at me. “Just fucking try it, you piece of shit.” He nods to the officers. “Arrest all of them.”
Before anyone can get their hands on me, I raise an arm and shove the officer away. I get between him and Micah. “Mishka, I’ll protect you,” I whisper. “Close your eyes. It will be ugly.”
“No,” he says, taking a step out from behind me. “I’ll be okay. No one’s going to hurt me. It’ll just be for a few hours. Then…” His gaze darts to Adam. “Then I’ll go home, and all of this will be over. Don’t make this worse on yourself, Ilya. They didn’t find anything, remember? I—”
“Go home?” I repeat. “Where is home, Mishka?”
“I don’t know,” he replies quietly.
“Enough,” the officer I’d pushed says. “Put your hands behind your back, Zima. Unless you really do want this to get ugly.”
I put my hands behind my back, itching to punch both of these officers and beat them down. Between me and Boris, I think we could do it.
But they’re both armed, and if one of the bullets ricochets and hits Micah…
The handcuffs snap around my wrists.
Boris shakes his head in disappointment, but he lets them cuff him, too.
Adam goes up to Micah and forces his wrists together. He slaps the handcuffs on him. “You like this, right?” Adam says with a smirk.
Micah flinches.
My blood boils. “Don’t talk to him, you fucking pig,” I growl.
Adam only gives me a nasty smile.
“You have the right to remain silent,” the officer holding me begins his spiel, starting to lead me out of the courtyard and back through the restaurant. He and the officer holding Boris take us to their patrol cars.
And Adam takes Micah to his own.
Like the first time we’d met, Micah looks lost and alone.