Chapter 21 Ilya #2
“Sorry,” I say, taking a long, deep breath. “I’ll go.” I pause, then add, “I’ll take care of the body first.”
Micah’s head snaps up, and he shakes his head. “N-no! No. Please don’t leave. Don’t leave me. I can’t… I don’t…” His teeth are chattering.
He’s going into shock.
I walk over to him and crouch down. I reach out, then realize I’m still wearing the bloodied gloves. I peel them off, but I’m still unsure.
I don’t deserve to touch him.
“I’m sorry,” I repeat, my hand hovering in front of him.
“He was going to shoot me,” he says, his eyes not quite focusing on me. “He would’ve killed me.”
“Yes,” I say simply.
Micah sobs. “I didn’t think…” He hiccups, then tries again. “I didn’t think he’d go that far. I didn’t.”
“Nobody ever does,” I say quietly. I carefully touch his shoulder, expecting him to flinch away from me.
Instead, he presses into my touch. “I didn’t know what else to do,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry, Ilya. I didn’t have a choice.” He lets out a choked half-sob, half-laugh. “I mean, I guess I did. But I did it anyway.”
“You were trying to survive,” I say carefully. My own pain is long gone, replaced only with concern for Micah. “None of this is your fault.”
Micah tries to speak, but he sobs again. This time, I pull him into my arms, going slow enough to give him the chance to protest. He doesn’t, instead wrapping his arms around me in turn and clinging to me.
“You’re going to go to jail,” he says after a moment. “I shouldn’t have asked you to come.”
If he hadn’t, there’s a very good chance he’d be dead right now.
“I have been to prison in Russia. American prison will feel like kindergarten in comparison,” I joke.
Micah doesn’t laugh.
I sigh and kiss his forehead. “Boris is waiting outside. He will help clean. Nobody will know. We’ll remove his body, get rid of all things here. Make it look like the motherfucker ran away.” I frown. “Do other cops know he lives with you?”
Micah shakes his head. “No,” he says softly. “It’s his house. No one knows I exist.”
I feel another burst of anger. Of course he’d hide Micah away like a dirty little secret.
“But all my clothes are here, and…” He smiles, but it’s not a happy smile. “I guess I don’t have much else. Except my cello.”
“We will empty house,” I say. I reach into my coat for my phone and call Boris. He picks up on the first ring.
“Hey, Boss,” Boris answers.
“Are there a lot of neighbors?” I ask in Russian. “The kind who would notice things?”
“Nope. I heard the gunshots, but nobody even peeked out the windows. If anybody’s home, they’re minding their own business.”
“You heard the gunshots and didn’t come running?” I ask, torn between amusement and annoyance.
“I figured if you were dead, it was too late, and if you weren’t, you could handle it.” Boris makes a sound. “Anyway. Clean-up time?”
“Yeah. Get somebody to bring a van. We need to make it look like somebody left in a hurry.” I glance at Micah. “And we’ll definitely need to talk to Milov again.”
“Got it.” Boris hangs up.
I put my phone away so I can pull Micah into my arms again. “Mishka… I will take care of you,” I promise. “You can finally be free.”
“Can I?” he asks bleakly, for all that he burrows into my arms. “Because he’s still in my head, Ilya. He’ll always be in my head. That’s not freedom.”
The words resonate inside of me, because I feel them. I understand them.
My father’s death hasn’t freed me of his violence.
It continues inside me, every time I beat down another person.
“It’s hard,” I murmur. “But this isn’t the end for you.
You can finally figure out who you are. I want…
I mean, I hope you choose to do it with me.
Together. But if you want to do it alone, I will give you money.
You can study cello, or record your performances.
Post them on the internet. Go to university. Whatever you want to do.”
“I’m just a whore,” he says, his voice dull, “going from one man to the next. Spreading my legs to get what I want. I’ll just use you, too.”
“No,” I say firmly. “You are musician. Your music touched me. When I was angry and sad, I heard your music and it eased my soul. We are both damaged and hurt. But we are not simply what insecure, angry men tell us we are.”
It’s a strange revelation, hearing these words coming out of my own mouth.
I don’t have to be my father’s legacy.
I don’t want to go back to Russia.
I don’t want to keep doing this.
I don’t want to put on the leather gloves and beat down the men whom I called friends.
There’s another life for me.
One where I can trust the people around me, and I don’t need to jump at shadows. One where I am not feared, but respected.
One where the only pain I give is controlled and designed to pleasure my partner.
I let out a soft laugh. “I am realizing, I want to start new too.”
Micah pulls back enough to look at me. “What does that mean?” he asks.
“I’m quitting my job.” I think about Dronov and what his reaction would be, and I shake my head. “No. I can’t quit. They wouldn’t allow it. But I’ll step aside. Reduce my role. I’ll keep the restaurant, but no more of the rest. Boris can handle things.”
Micah’s eyes are wide. “What if they don’t let that happen?” he asks, clinging to me. “I… don’t know a lot about the mafia, but it doesn’t seem like they’d let you walk away from any of it.” His eyes are intent upon mine. “You’re already in enough trouble, Ilya.”
“There are ways,” I assure him. “It helps that I’m here in America and not at home. Maybe I can ask some of my American friends to help, too.”
If I have Silvano Cresci’s support, that would go a long way. And he has connections to the Voronkovs, who are still influential in Russia. More Moscow based, but it wouldn’t hurt.
I lean in for a kiss, and Micah meets me there, eagerly opening for me.
I sigh against his lips. “I’ll make it work. For myself. But…” I give him a gentle smile. “I hope you would stay with me for it.”
“I want to,” he says. He swallows hard. “But I broke your trust, Ilya. I messed up, and I messed up big. Can you really forgive that?”
“There is nothing to forgive,” I say with conviction. “You were trying to survive. If anything, I should earn your trust. I am barely better than that asshole.”
Micah’s eyes flick past me to the crumpled heap of Adam’s body. “Maybe to other people,” he says slowly. “But to me… You’re nothing like him. I know that’s naive and stupid, but I know your heart.”
I smile at him and take his hand into mine. “Thank you.” I lift his hand up so I can kiss his knuckles. “I will prove I am worthy of you, Mishka.”
Micah blushes deep red. “There’s nothing to prove,” he mumbles.
I’m about to respond when somebody coughs.
I turn to glare at Boris standing in the bedroom doorway.
“It’s important moment,” I complain. “Go away.”
Boris shrugs. “The clean-up crew’s here. You should both shower. Not together.” He waves to Micah. In English, he says, “Hello. I’m Boris. Nice to meet you.”
Micah smiles tentatively at him, and I help him to his feet. “Hi, Boris. I’m Micah. It’s nice to meet you, too.” His smile falters, and I can see how carefully he’s avoiding looking at Adam’s body.
“Boris says we must shower, but not together,” I translate for Micah.
Micah laughs and blushes. “I don’t think we’d both fit in the shower anyway.”
I ruffle his hair. “You go first. I’ll help clean here.”
He nods and gets a change of clothes from the closet before heading into the bathroom. I hear the shower start right away, and I turn to Boris.
“How much did you overhear?” I ask.
“I caught the thing about you quitting.” Boris gives me a hard look. “Are you sure? Dronov isn’t going to be that nice about it.”
“We’ll figure it out.” I wave dismissively. “We can use this whole mess with the raid as a cover. We have to lay low for a while anyway. You always liked the whole gambling business more, anyway.”
Boris scoffs. “I don’t like it. I just enjoy seeing idiots lose their money. But fine. Whatever you need, Boss, I’ll support you.” After a beat, he grins. “Maybe you need to start calling me ‘boss.’”
I punch him lightly in the shoulder. “Don’t get too full of yourself, Boris.” I glance at Adam’s corpse and curl my nose. “All right. Let’s get started. I want this body gone before Mishka is out of the shower.”
The faster we finish here, the faster Micah and I can get back to my condo—and the faster I can finally start my life.