It’s easier this way.
The most surprising thing is that he didn’t take the money for himself. The drug addicts I’ve known were prone to stealing.
The guy jogs off, and if it weren’t for the track marks, I wouldn’t have known he was an addict. Is it a recent habit? Is he one of those rare occasional users?
Should I tell Ilya about him?
He would want to know if his staff was high at work, right? Unless he supplies his staff.
This entire restaurant could be a front for drug trafficking.
No, Adam had said Ilya had gambling dens.
That doesn’t automatically preclude drugs, though.
I pull my phone out and tab over to the contacts. My thumb hovers over Adam’s name.
I should call him. I need to call him.
I need to tell him something, anything at all.
Trembling, I tap the screen, and the line begins to ring. I hope Adam will be too busy to take the call, or that he’ll ignore me, but I’m not that lucky. He answers on the third ring.
“Micah?”
“Hi,” I say thickly, quickly closing the door to the break room.
“Hi,” Adam replies. “Are you all right? He’s not making you do anything you hate, right?”
Even if he was, would Adam tell me to leave the situation? Or is he more concerned about his promotion than my safety?
I don’t like those thoughts.
“No, I’m fine,” I tell him, which is true. Maybe I should lie, though. Maybe I should say something about how terrible the sex is, or make it clear that I don’t want to be here.
I don’t know how he’d react to that. I never can read him.
“I’m working at one of his restaurants,” I add.
“Yeah? Which one?” Adam chuckles. “Is he paying you minimum wage? At least you’re getting something out of this.”
I give him the name of the restaurant. “Yes,” I lie. Adam doesn’t need to know how much Ilya is actually paying me. “But it’s okay. I’m not doing a lot of work. There are a lot of people who work here.”
What do I tell him?
I have to give him something, don’t I?
But all I really know is about Ilya’s family life, and that feels too sacred to share with Adam.
“I think there might be drugs here,” I say helplessly. “Some of the wait staff…”
Adam scoffs on the other end. “All restaurant workers are doped up addicts. I need more than that.”
“I only just started,” I tell him. “I didn’t even know about the drugs until tonight. I can…” My stomach sinks. “I can try to find out more. Who the dealer is, if it’s Ilya.” Even though I’d closed the door, I keep my voice low.
“Yeah. Keep doing that,” Adam says. After a small pause, he says, “When were you going to tell me you broke into my house, by the way?”
Never.
