Page 122 of Trust

I move so I’m standing closer to Ilya, and I rest my head against his arm. I feel impossibly safe in his presence, with just the two of us here and the world so far away. “He planted drugs in the cello,” I tell him. “I…” I’ve never told Ilya much about myself. “I used to deal.” I know, somehow, that he’s not going to respond poorly — but I also know it’s going to shatter the illusion of me beinginnocent, and I mourn the loss of that.

“Used to deal drugs?” Ilya asks. He shifts to wrap his arm around my shoulders. “Is that how you met him?”

I nod. “I got caught. He… He got me out of everything. Then when he found out I didn’t have anywhere to go, he offered to let me stay with him.” I smile, humorless as it is. “I guess there’s a theme, huh?”

“You want to be protected,” Ilya says. He kisses the top of my head. “The theme is you want to feel safe.”

“Yeah,” I say, my voice as flat as I feel. “My family… They’d have expected me to go right back to it. And I didn’t want to go to jail. I thought Adam was exactly what he presented himself as: a good, strong, non-corrupt cop in a fucked-up system.” I sigh, closing my eyes. “I was wrong.”

“Your family?” Ilya asks. “They are… like me, like my family?”

I hesitate, trying to figure out how to explain it. “It wasn’t great,” I finally say. “Mostly, they just weren’t there. Then when I got older, they expected me to earn my keep. It was dealing drugs or selling myself.” I slowly let out a breath. “So I dealt drugs. I didn’t know what else to do. They took everything I made, and I couldn’t get ahead. I was sinking and sinking. I met Charles, and he was okay for a little while, too. Took me away from my family, gave me a new place to stay. But he expected me to keep doing the same thing. We both got taken in forquestioning one night. He got arrested. I didn’t. I think he’s still serving time.”

“Arrested by Adam?” Ilya sighs and ruffles my hair. “He saw you were vulnerable. He picked you because he knew he could keep you trapped.”

“It wasn’t always bad,” I say, even though I’m aware that it didn’t really matter. It wasbadoften enough to outweigh the good parts. “But… Yeah. I guess that was it.” I open my eyes and look at him. “Do you think he cared about me at all?”

Ilya purses his lips. “I don’t know. I don’t understand men like him. But I think he never cared about you as much as he cared about himself.”

The words hurt. Not because they’re not true, but because I think they are.

“Yeah,” I say softly. The gentle sound of the water in the aquarium is the only thing interrupting the silence for a moment before I tell him, “Can you hold me? For a little while?”

“Yes.” Ilya takes my hand and leads me to the couch.

We sit down, and I immediately climb into his lap and wrap my arms around him, ignoring the pain from the belting. Ilya returns the embrace, large and warm, gently stroking my back.

I bury my head against his neck and squeeze my eyes shut.

I don’t want to break down.

I don’t want to cry.

I’ve done so much of that already.

“I was afraid today,” Ilya murmurs. “When I called. I was afraid you wouldn’t pick up.”

I think back to how angry Adam had been that I had. “It… wasn’t good timing,” I tell him. “Maybe I shouldn’t have answered. Maybe he wouldn’t have gotten as out of control as he had if I didn’t.” But I hug Ilya tight. “I don’t regret it.”

I’d take that belting all over again if it meant Ilya would be there to rescue me.

“Mishka, if not today, then some other day. But I didn’t want to be too late.” Ilya keeps petting me softly, like I’m somebody to be cherished. “I wasn’t ready to give up on you.”

“I’m glad you weren’t,” I whisper. “I didn’t tell him about what you told me. About your family, about your father. I want you to know that.”

But I would have, if Adam had kept hurting me. I’m not strong enough to have withstood that for much longer.

“Thank you,” Ilya says.

I nod.

For several moments, I stay silent, unsure of what to say. I bury my face against his neck and kiss the skin. I’m in pain from how I’m sitting, but I don’t want to pull away from him. I don’t want to let go of him. Not now, not ever.

“They’re going to ask you questions,” I say after a while of him stroking my hair. “I don’t want you to get into trouble for me. Maybe… Maybe I should just confess. Maybe they’d accept self-defense or something.”

I don’t believe that.

“Don’t worry,” Ilya says. “We’re good with dealing with things. His house will be empty soon. I’ll ask some friends in the NBPD to keep an eye on situation. There won’t be any trouble.” He lifts my chin up. “You were never there. He never told anyone about you. You are innocent.”