Chapter 18 Micah
EIGHTEEN
MICAH
As soon as I’m in the car, Adam leans down to look through the back door. “It’s just for show. I’m not really arresting you,” he says, smirking in a way that makes my heart sink. “Just sit there for a bit, and once the search is done, I’ll let you go ‘with a warning.’”
I swallow hard. “Okay,” I whisper.
I don’t know whether I should be relieved or not.
The idea of going back into jail, even for a few hours, had had me terrified, but now the idea of going back home with Adam is even more frightening. I don’t know what kind of mood he’s going to be in, not with the way the search had panned out to show nothing.
Because I hadn’t given him anything worthwhile.
Adam shuts the door, leaving me alone in the back of his patrol car. There’s a small mesh grate between the back and the front, to protect the driver from the dangerous criminals who get thrown back here.
I wonder what they’re going to do to Ilya, who really is a dangerous criminal.
Adam had at least cuffed my hands in front of me, which is a welcome change from the last time I’d been arrested. It doesn’t count for much.
I rest my head against the window, watching as the officers go in and out of the restaurant. I don’t think they’re going to find anything there, but I wonder what was in the other building, where Adam had kicked the door down.
I’m torn between hoping they find something and that they don’t.
On one hand, Adam will be in a better mood if they do, his promotion all but secure.
I’ll be safe.
On the other, though…
I don’t want anything to happen to Ilya.
More people in handcuffs get led out. Officers try to corral the onlookers. There are so many people swarming the area now.
My cello is still in the restaurant.
It feels like eternity passes before Adam returns. The look on his face is utterly triumphant, and my heart sinks. What had they found?
He talks animatedly with some of the other officers. They start clapping each other on the back, like it’s a job well done. An older woman in a suit goes up to them, and she nods as they talk to her.
She must be the lead detective here. I remember Adam complaining about some hardass woman who wouldn’t take him seriously.
I look back to the front entrance, and my eyes widen when I see my cello being wheeled out in its case.
I press up more against the window, wanting to bang on it and beg them to be careful with it.
It’s all I have.
I’ve lost Ilya, and I don’t know that I even want Adam, but I don’t have anything else.
Adam walks up to the guy carrying the cello, then points at the patrol car I’m in. After a bit of back and forth, Adam takes the cello and walks toward me.
He opens the back door.
“You’ve been having fun without me, huh,” Adam says cheerfully as he forces the cello inside.
There isn’t enough space, not with me in here too. I have to slide all the way to the other end and make myself as small as possible.
“Fun?” I ask, bewildered.
“They found little packets inside the cello case,” Adam continues. “Enough to make anyone wonder if you’re the one dealing here and getting those restaurant workers high.”
I stare blankly at him. “I don’t…”
Taka.
They have to be talking about Taka.
My heart sinks.
“I didn’t. You know I didn’t,” I tell him more emphatically. “I don’t do that anymore.”
Adam’s grin widens. “Do I know that? You were getting so into that Russian trash. Did he tempt you with drugs? Riches? You think your life would be better going back to your old ways?”
“Adam…” I still don’t know what to say. “He’s not—” I cut myself off. This is already going to be bad enough. I don’t need to defend Ilya. Defending Ilya will only make things worse. “I’m sorry,” I say instead. “But the drugs aren’t mine. You have to know that.”
Somebody must have planted them there.
“I don’t have to know anything,” Adam says. He glances over his shoulder once, then turns back to me. “I might be willing to overlook this. Depending.”
I feel sick.
“Depending on what?” I whisper.
I’m not sure I even want to know.
“You come back home with me,” Adam answers. “No nonsense ideas about breaking up. What would you even do without me? Get fucking arrested for dealing, because you can’t do anything right.”
Tears prick the corners of my eyes, but I nod.
Where else am I going to go? What else am I going to do?
I don’t want to be erased.
That’s what’s going to happen if I go home with him, but if I don’t? I’ll be arrested and probably end up in jail.
I wouldn’t survive two days, let alone however long they’d keep me there if I was convicted of dealing drugs.
“Okay,” I say, sinking back into the seat and looking out the window again because I can’t handle looking him in the face.
He loves me.
I want to believe that he’s only doing this because he loves me, because he doesn’t want to lose me.
But I can’t even believe that anymore.
“Do you think… things could get better?” I ask quietly. “If I’m better. If I’m good.”
“We’ll see,” Adam says. He slams the door shut.
My breaths come in quick, short gasps. Tears blur my vision. I lean forward over the neck of the cello case and try my best to hold back the sobs.
He’ll only get angry if he knows I’m crying.
He’ll tell me to shut up.
He’ll give me something to cry about, like I’m an errant child.
Maybe I am.
Adam gets into the driver’s side of the car.
It takes me a few seconds to find my voice again.
“Did… Did it go well?” I ask, swallowing hard around the need to let the tears flow. “The raid? Did you get what you needed?”
“Oh yeah. A whole gambling den. Got like fifteen players, and some of the underlings.” Adam buckles up and turns the car on. “We found a safe, too. The safecrackers are coming in soon to open it up. It’ll be a fucking gold mine.”
I don’t want it to be a gold mine, for them to use against Ilya. I hope they don’t find anything at all inside of it, but I’m not holding my breath.
Ilya had to hide the records somewhere.
I wonder how cutthroat running a gambling den actually is, or if they’re only bad because gambling is illegal. Is he really such a bad person? Is it really such a bad thing?
“Oh,” I say. “I’m glad you found something.”
I’m not.
It’s such a lie.
Adam starts driving, humming to himself. At one point he talks to another officer on the walkie talkie.
“You were a big help, babe,” Adam says. “Getting hired at that restaurant. We were able to get the warrant thanks to you. And what a fucking idiot, to have his gambling house right next to his semi legit business.”
I stare down at my still-cuffed hands. “Yeah,” I say. “Really stupid.”
I didn’t think telling Adam would actually help him find anything.
As we drive, I realize we aren’t heading to Adam’s house. My heart sinks when we turn on a familiar street and pull into the local precinct’s parking lot.
Adam turns around in his seat. “This is just a formality,” he says, still chipper. “I’ll take you in, pretend to question you, then let you out again.” He glances at the cello. “If you’re cooperative, we don’t need to keep the cello.”
“I’ll cooperate,” I say because I know that’s what I’m expected to say. Just like I’m expected to tell him everything else I’ve figured out. “But I really don’t know much, Adam. He didn’t spill his secrets or anything.”
At least, nothing that they can use.
Anything I could tell him would only result in betraying Ilya even more.
He’d trusted me.
Fuck.
Adam rolls his eyes. “I’ll decide how much you know.” He gets out and opens the door for me, pulling me out roughly. I take one more look at my cello before Adam drags me into the precinct building.
Two years have done nothing to dull the fear, and I feel like I’m going to vomit all over the floor. I manage to hold it in, if only barely. Even though I stumble a few times, Adam doesn’t slow down as he pulls me down a hallway.
“Adam,” I protest weakly when his grasp tightens on my arm. “You’re hurting me.”
“Can’t be seen showing favoritism,” Adam says. “Besides, you get off on this stuff.”
Not like this, I want to say, but I know better.
His brisk steps take us farther down the hall, and I miss a step when the wall opens up to a series of holding cells. My stomach lurches. I remember these cells too well. I’d been lucky that Adam had chosen to let me go instead of processing me into the system.
I’d spilled everything I’d known that time.
This time, I don’t plan on being as forthcoming.
But I don’t want to go to jail.
I turn my head, and I realize why Adam’s grip had tightened. Ilya’s standing in the cell nearby, his expression murderous.
I can’t look at him.
I don’t deserve to look at him.
“Big man,” Ilya says, his accent thick. “You feel yourself good, bullying others. But I know truth. You are small, pathetic. You know you’re weak. That’s why you stomp on people more beautiful than you.”
Somehow, I know he means me. Despite everything, he still thinks I’m a beautiful soul.
It only makes me hate myself more.
“Say whatever the fuck you want,” Adam growls. “You’re the one locked up here. You really thought Micah could be trusted? He never liked you. He was always coming back to me.”
I want to tell Ilya that Adam is wrong, that I do like him.
That I more than like him.
I don’t dare.
Instead, I stay silent. It’s better for Ilya to think those things. He deserves someone who really is beautiful inside and out, someone who would never even dream of betraying him.
Ilya gives Adam a strange smile. “You think crushing a soul is the same as sharing it. You will never feel love, pig. Nobody has ever truly loved you. They only fear you. And you know. You will die, and not a single person will give a fuck.”
Adam snarls in frustration, but he doesn’t respond. He drags me along, past the cells and into one of the soulless interview rooms. He shoves me into the chair and shuts the door, then leans against it.
“Who the fuck does he think he is?” Adam snaps. “Nobody has loved me? Lofty words from a fucking gangster.”
I loved Adam once. Back before I knew how much it hurt to care so deeply about someone who only wants to destroy me, I really had.
I don’t think I do anymore.
It’s not a pleasant realization.
“He’s wrong,” I tell him, because I know that’s what Adam wants to hear.
“Yeah. Yeah.” Adam sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “‘Cause you love me. Right, babe?”
“Of course I do,” I say.
Will he be able to tell how hollow the words are?
Adam walks back to me and strokes my hair. It should be a gentle gesture that calms me, but I can feel the underlying current of violence, the threat of pain should I disappoint him.
When Ilya petted me, I’d only felt safe and cared for.
“Too bad the precinct is swarming with people right now,” Adam murmurs. “It would be fun to have you kneeling in cuffs for me.”
My breath catches, something I know he’s going to misinterpret as desire — and that’s for the best. He needs to think that I want this, that I want him. “It would be,” I agree with him. “Maybe we could do it at home.”
Inside, I’m screaming.
“All right.” Adam pulls out the key to the cuffs and lifts my wrists up. He stares at them, at the small red line the cuffs have already produced in my skin. “Damn, that’s hot.” He grins at me. “Maybe I should have you wear these all the way home.”
“Okay,” I say.
I’d agree with anything he says right now. Maybe it’ll distract him from asking me questions about Ilya.
I don’t think I’m going to be that lucky.
Adam sighs and unlocks the cuffs. “They’d ask questions if they saw you. It’s fine. I’ll cuff you again once we’re home.” He sits down on the chair opposite to me. “Okay. So, let’s talk about the drugs inside your cello.”
“I don’t know how they got there,” I tell him. “I know anyone would say that, but it’s true. I wasn’t doing anything with drugs. I promise, Adam.”
No one had had time to put them there.
No one except the police.
My stomach sinks.
No one except Adam.
Adam smirks at me. “You expect my colleagues to believe that? Right now, it’s mighty suspicious…”
I close my eyes, not wanting to see that expression on his face. “Adam, please,” I whisper. “You have to know I don’t want to go back to that.”
“Kind of reminds me of how we first met. You, sitting there. Your deadbeat ex, in a cell.” Adam shakes his head. “You really do spread your legs for anybody who smiles at you, huh. Don’t worry, I forgive you.”
But he told me to sleep with Ilya! There shouldn’t be anything to forgive.
“Thank you,” I say, licking my lips as I look off to the side of him.
I wonder what Ilya’s thinking right now.
I wonder if he could forgive me.
It doesn’t matter. I couldn’t go back even if he got out of this in one piece and welcomed me there. Adam would never leave him alone. He’d hunt Ilya relentlessly, and it would be all my fault if he found something else on him.
Adam looks down at his watch. “Okay. You stay here while I take care of some paperwork, then I’ll take us both home.” He stands up, towering over me. He’s smiling, but I see the darkness in his eyes. This isn’t a nice smile. “No more talk of leaving me.”
I shake my head quickly. “No,” I say. “I won’t. I wouldn’t. I love you.”
My heart threatens to crack in two.
“Good boy,” Adam answers.
I don’t feel good at all.
I paint a smile onto my lips. “Thank you, Adam.”
He leaves the room without looking back, and I’m left staring at the walls of the interrogation room. I still have my phone, and I pull it out to stare at the screen.
Tears welling up in my eyes, I find the app I’d downloaded to talk to Ilya… and delete his number.
I can’t risk being tempted to talk to him again, and there’s no way he’ll contact me.
I’m Adam’s, and nothing I say or do is ever going to change that.