"Yes. I'm sorry, Adam."
"Stop saying you're sorry," he snaps. "It doesn't mean anything. I'm going to suggest to Dad that we turn Ilya into the police." His chin goes up a fraction. "We are a legitimate corporation. We are- wewerea law-abiding family."
If they turn Ilya into the police, the traffickers will likely kill him before they can even make the arrest, but I say nothing, because Adam knows that too. Mother comes into the front hall to say goodbye, but he can't look at her, turning his head away as he leaves.
Ava and Jeannie are huddled on the couch. Jeannie is weeping softly and as she looks up at me, I see the red scars around her neck; marks from multiple shocks that tell me she never quite gave up.
"That was very brave," I say hoarsely.
"Is he going to be punished?" she says. "Ilya, he's going to jail, right?
"Yes, they're turning him into the police." I say. Ava's gaze meets mine and she already knows the unsaid part of that answer. If they tried that hard to kill her, what will happen to Ilya is inevitable. A jail cell will do nothing to stop it.
Mother comes back in, sitting next to Jeannie and offers her a mug of tea, wrapping her shaking hands around it.
"I'll talk to you soon, okay?" Ava says softly. "You can call me. Anytime you want to. Day or night."
Jeannie nods, the mug making a clinking sound against her teeth as her trembling fingers try to hold it steady.
The hallway is quiet, and Ava wraps her arms around me. We stand for a moment, swaying slightly. "I wish there was a better way to say 'I'm sorry' that would make this less painful for you," she says, her voice muffled against my chest.
"You have nothing to apologize for," I say. "Nothing, my brave, beautiful girl." I should be comfortingher,being willing to face that hell again, having to hear Jeannie's story, and she's worried about how I feel?
There are a thousand things we need to do. Ava has a rotation at the Morozov clinic. I have meetings. Always, fucking meetings. But we stand there in the quiet, not moving.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
In which Dmitri cements his legendary status as The Best Boyfriend in the World.
Ava…
The next day is no better
Adam is sitting on the bed when I wake up, already in his suit and tie.
"I have to tell you something," he says, like he's tired of delivering bad news.
"Oh, this is going to suck, I can tell," I say miserably, sitting up.
"I didn't want to say anything until we had him but… Ilya identified the man who had given him the original contact." A rush of fury sweeps across his face. "They were recruiting men out ofmyprivate club. The one I'd built from the ground up, my own project." Knowing how proud he is of King's Rest, I can't imagine a greater violation for him. "The man who gave him the contact information is your ex fiancé, Kevin Sinclair. Ilya identified him positively."
I must have made some kind of noise because he pauses, watching me. "Go on," I say, feeling like something ugly is beinglanced from me. It stabs and burns but the only way out is through.
"We sent a team to pick him up earlier this morning at his apartment and he'd been murdered. They used a Columbian Necktie."
"What's that?" she whispers.
"They slice the throat open," he says, taking my hand and holding it between his, "and pull the tongue through the cut, dangling on the victim's neck. They'd done the same thing to Cynthia Watkins."
"That would send a warning about not talking to anyone, huh?" I should probably feel terrible about Kevin's death. How horrible it must've been. But the next logical conclusion is worse. "He sold me to them, didn't he? He set me up. Cynthia, the whole thing. He told them where to look for me, he knew how much I hated living with my roommates."
Bolting to the bathroom, I fall to my knees in front of the toilet just in time. Dmitri holds my hair back, helping me up shaky legs when I'm finished, handing me my toothbrush after squeezing a line of toothpaste on it.
"Remember that night I told you about at Heaven and Hell? His little surprise party of one?" He nods, leaning against the sink, watching me. "I got the approval for my low-income housing application from Cynthia that night after I got home from blowing him off," I laugh bitterly. "Maybe they didn't kidnap me right away because he was trying to decide if he could get me back or not. The two women missing from the hospital, he would've had easy access to their records and information."
"We must've interrupted them," Dmitri says. "They didn't have a chance to destroy his hard drive. Kolya is sorting throughthe data, he's already found several financial transactions - even though they're heavily encrypted - deposits of $50,000 to $75,000."
"How many deposits?" I'm swaying slightly, like gravity is more of a suggestion than a rule at this point.
