Page 12 of Trust

Ilya curls his lip at Adam. “You’re lucky we are in public.” His accent is a lot stronger now.

Silvano laughs and claps Ilya on the shoulder. “Yes, yes. We are all very big strong men here.” He looks at me, and I shrink away from him. “Micah, is it? You played beautifully earlier. I’m a little biased, so I don’t think you were the best performance, but do let me know if you plan to come back. I think Ilya and I would both enjoy hearing you play again.”

Adam israging. He doesn’t have to say a word for me to realize that this situation just went from heated to molten, and I’m well and truly frightened for what’s going to happen when we get home.

“He wouldn’t play here again if it was the last place in New Bristol,” Adam says harshly.

He’s ruining everything, and I don’t understand why.

“Now get your fucking cello so we can get out of this place.” Adam sneers at Silvano and Ilya, not even bothering to pretend to be a nice person anymore.

Before Silvano or Ilya can speak, I run to the back room. My heart is racing, and for a moment, I think about running.

If I could get out of New Bristol, I could get out from under Adam’s claws.

I could sell the cello to buy myself a way out of here. The thought makes a lump form in my throat, and I can barely swallow around it. My beautiful cello has gotten me through so much, and the idea of losing it…

But if it’s what I have to do to get out of this, then maybe I need to consider it.

I could start over again, buy a supply of the latest new drug on the market and dole it out as I get back to what’s so familiar it hurts — and hope that this time, I don’t get caught.

I’m too numb to cry, too afraid, but I let out a small, startled sound when a man steps up behind me.

He’s big, bigger even than Ilya had been, and I swallow hard. I think I saw him playing earlier, but I can’t be sure. It’s all sort of hazy now. “I— I’m sorry. I’m getting out of the way?—”

“Where’s the cello?” he interrupts me.

My hackles instantly go up, but what am I going to do? I point to the case, and he grunts wordlessly before picking it up.

He handles the instrument with ease, carrying it through the club back to where Adam, Ilya, and Silvano are having a terse conversation.

“Here,” the big man says, setting the cello down in front of Adam with surprising care.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

“Don’t talk to that trash,” Adam snaps at me.

Ilya and the big man both bristle, but Silvano keeps smiling. I don’t know how he can remain so calm when everybody around us is ready to explode with rage.

“Now, officer… Adam? What precinct are you in?” Silvano asks pointedly.

“I don’t know why you think I’m a cop,” Adam says in clipped tones. “Now leave us the fuck alone, or I’ll call real cops down here.”

That doesn’t sound convincing at all.

Ilya takes a threatening step forward, but Silvano puts his hand on Ilya’s chest. “Understood. We’ll take our leave.” He motions to the big man, who grabs Ilya’s arm and starts dragging him away. Ilya looks over his shoulder at us, expression thunderous, but I avert my eyes.

Silvano shakes his head. “Poor Ilya. I didn’t expect to see him here at all, of course.” He reaches into his breast pocket and takes out another business card, this time offering it to me. “Let me know where you’re playing next, please. I’ll come support you.”

Adam snatches the business card from Silvano’s outstretched hand, ripping it in half and tossing it to the ground. “Listen, lowlife,” Adam starts to growl.

“Adam,” I whisper. “I won’t.”

“No.” Adam doesn’t look at me. “There’s a lot of shit youwon’tbe doing, Micah. Let’s go.” He grabs my cello, setting it down so he can roll it along the floor, and when he goes through the door, he slams the case against the doorframe.

I choke on a sob, my hand going to my mouth as I wonder how much damage he’s potentially done to my beautiful, beautiful baby.

Adam practically throws my cello into the back seat of his car, and I bite back another protest. “Get in the fucking car, Micah,” he tells me.