Page 14 of Trust

It’s stupid. It’s not going to make it any easier if I linger, but going inside will mean that I have to face the aftermath of what had happened in the bar.

I still don’t understand why what I did was so wrong.

Adam slams the driver side door shut. I tense, and two seconds later, he’s yanking the passenger door open. I don’t dare look at him.

“What the fuck are you cowering for?” Adam asks. “You’re scared of me, but not terrified of the fucking gangster?”

Weirdly, he’s right. I had been strangely fearless when it had come to Ilya, and I’m not sure why. I know what he is. Adam has made it abundantly clear that the man is dangerous.

Which makes him sending me in to get close that much more devastating.

“Do you even care if I die?” I whisper. “If he found out, if he killed me. Would you even care?”

I dare to look up at Adam. I don’t know what to make of his expression, a strange furrow in his brows.

“You aren’t going todie,” Adam says. “That’s why I had to pull you out before you messed up more than you already did.You were supposed to find a way to join his business, not hisbed.”

“He— I thought—” I begin. “You told me to get close any way possible. He was interested in me. This was easier than convincing him to hire me!”

“Do you think this is some sort of fucking movie?” Adam demands. “That you’re Mata Hari?”

I shake my head. “You told me you’d arrest me if I didn’t infiltrate his organization!” I protest, and he grabs my arm to yank me out of the car. I wince, straightening from my stumble.

Adam kicks the door shut, then drags me toward the house. I struggle to keep up, stumbling over the walkway leading to the front door.

“Christ, how did you survive even this long?” Adam demands as he unlocks the front door. He shoves me inside, and it’s all I can do not to trip over the shoe rack. He hangs up his coat. “We’ll call this all off. It was stupid of me, anyway. I should have realized you wouldn’t be able to handle real work.”

The biting comment makes my shoulders hunch, and I stare down at the floor as I take my shoes off. I can’t do anything right.

Even when I’d been dealing drugs, I hadn’t been very good at it. I’d given people breaks or refused to sell if I thought they couldn’t afford it.

My conscience hadn’t stopped me from getting them addicted in the first place.

My conscience hadn’t stopped me from using their money to buy my food.

My clothes.

My cello.

“I can just go about it differently,” I offer in a small voice, but I know that’s not going to go anywhere. I should’ve known Adam would never let me close to another man, especially not one who’d kissed me so sweetly.

It’s my fault for not realizing I’d interpreted him wrong.

Adam turns to give me a familiar look, the one that has me feeling small and insignificant. “Differently? What would you do differently? You’d get between his legs and suck his cock?”

“No,” I whisper.

No matter how desperate I’ve been, I’ve never had to whore myself out before.

Well.

Sometimes it feels like giving myself over to Adam for the smallest things counts. The thought instantly bothers me; I shouldn’t be thinking that way about the man I love.

And I do love him.

It’s just that sometimes…

Sometimes I wish he’d treat me better, that he’d return to being the smiling man who’d gotten me out of the charges for distribution and brought me into his home.