Fuck.
Adam rolls his eyes. “I’ll decide how much you know.” He gets out and opens the door for me, pulling me out roughly. I take one more look at my cello before Adam drags me into the precinct building.
Two years have done nothing to dull the fear, and I feel like I’m going to vomit all over the floor. I manage to hold it in, if only barely. Even though I stumble a few times, Adam doesn’t slow down as he pulls me down a hallway.
“Adam,” I protest weakly when his grasp tightens on my arm. “You’re hurting me.”
“Can’t be seen showing favoritism,” Adam says. “Besides, you get off on this stuff.”
Not like this,I want to say, but I know better.
His brisk steps take us farther down the hall, and I miss a step when the wall opens up to a series of holding cells. My stomach lurches. I remember these cells too well. I’d been lucky that Adam had chosen to let me go instead of processing me into the system.
I’d spilled everything I’d known that time.
This time, I don’t plan on being as forthcoming.
But I don’t want to go to jail.
I turn my head, and I realize why Adam’s grip had tightened. Ilya’s standing in the cell nearby, his expression murderous.
I can’t look at him.
I don’t deserve to look at him.
“Big man,” Ilya says, his accent thick. “You feel yourself good, bullying others. But I know truth. You are small, pathetic. You know you’re weak. That’s why you stomp on people more beautiful than you.”
Somehow, I know he means me. Despite everything, he still thinks I’m a beautiful soul.
It only makes me hate myself more.
“Say whatever the fuck you want,” Adam growls. “You’re the one locked up here. You really thought Micah could be trusted? He never liked you. He was always coming back to me.”
I want to tell Ilya that Adam is wrong, that I do like him.
That I more than like him.
I don’t dare.
Instead, I stay silent. It’s better for Ilya to think those things. He deserves someone who really is beautiful inside and out, someone who would never even dream of betraying him.
Ilya gives Adam a strange smile. “You think crushing a soul is the same as sharing it. You will never feel love,pig. Nobody has ever truly loved you. They only fear you. And you know. You will die, and not a single person will give a fuck.”
Adam snarls in frustration, but he doesn’t respond. He drags me along, past the cells and into one of the soulless interview rooms. He shoves me into the chair and shuts the door, then leans against it.
“Who the fuck does he think he is?” Adam snaps. “Nobody has loved me? Lofty words from a fucking gangster.”
I loved Adam once. Back before I knew how much it hurt to care so deeply about someone who only wants to destroy me, I really had.
I don’t think I do anymore.
It’s not a pleasant realization.
“He’s wrong,” I tell him, because I know that’s what Adam wants to hear.
“Yeah. Yeah.” Adam sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “‘Causeyoulove me. Right, babe?”
“Of course I do,” I say.
