Page 46 of Trust

It’s not because he touched me like I matter.

It’s only because I have to.

NINE

MICAH

Ilya disappeared into his office about ten minutes ago. I keep staring at the door, wondering what he’s doing in there. He’d taken a call over breakfast, everything in fast Russian, so it’s not like I got any information from that end.

I clutch my phone tighter in my hand. This is my chance to snoop. I hadn’t seen anything overtly suspicious out in the open, but maybe there’s a… a murder weapon or something in Ilya’s bedroom closet.

If I got caught, though…

My eyes burn at the idea of what could happen. Ilya could make me disappear, like the last informant Adam had been working with.

I fumble with my phone, staring down at it. I can’t text him; that would leave evidence behind if Ilya was to go through my phone like Adam does. But he can’t blame me for calling Adam.

If anything, he has to know it’s inevitable.

I hurry to the guest room and close the door, eyeing it. I would never dare lock Adam out of a room, especially not in his own house, but I lock this door and head deeper into the room before calling Adam.

I wait, and the phone only rings twice before he picks up.

The wave of relief and nausea I feel is overwhelming. “Adam?” I whisper.

“Micah? Did you sleep on the street?” Adam demands immediately. “Why didn’t you come home last night?”

“You told me not to!” I protest, my heart sinking. “You told me to stay gone. So I found a way to—” I look at the door to the room, lowering my voice. “I’m athisplace. I’m going to find out everything I can about him and tell you. I’m going to make this right for you.”

“His place?” Adam’s voice turns darker. “Who? Yourex?”

My mouth goes dry. “No!” I say, shaking my head. “No, I’d never. I’d never. I found Ilya. I’m here with him.”

This is the part I’m dreading. Either he’s going to be pissed off that I did this, even though he’d told me to do it, or?—

No.

I already know he’s not going to be happy.

No matter how hard I try, no matter what I do, it’s never enough. This won’t be either.

Adam stays quiet for so long that I start to worry he’s going to actually break up with me.

“Ilya,” Adam repeats, quiet. “After you raised such a stink, you… what, you took a bus all the way to the bar and found him there?”

“It’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” I don’tquitelie. “As far as he knows, you broke up with me and I had nowhere to go.”

And he’d been kind enough to take me home, to treat me with reverence instead of disdain.

Now that I’ve had a taste of it, I want more.

There’s another long pause, and I can imagine the irritated twitch in Adam’s jaw that always precedes his anger.

That’s why it surprises me when Adam says, “Okay. Good job. Yeah. Get him to trust you, to open up to you. We needproof that he’s running illegal gambling dens and not just a few Russian restaurants.”

Gambling dens. Is that all?

“I thought he was a dangerous criminal,” I say. Gambling dens don’t sound that bad. They definitely don’t need to make someone who knows too much vanish.