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Rain hit the windows sideways.
Inside the apartment, the five of them had gathered in the living room. They were all looking at a soaking wet Adam.
Nigel was punching his bag in the little space he made for himself in the garage when he got a text from Adam: come upstairs. now, please. alone if you want. but bring the others.
He had known something was off the second he read it. Adam rarely asked for help. He gave information. He offered plans. That text was unusual.
Now, Adam was sitting on the sofa, hoodie half-zipped, dark hair wet and sticking to his forehead. His hands on his lap. He wasn’t fidgeting.
Darko sat on the rug, chewing a chopstick. “Alright, you’re freaking me out, Adam. What happened?”
Adam looked over his shoulder. “I stopped him.”
Hannibal, sitting cross-legged beside Will, tensed. “Who?”
“Chris. The one who is threatening to blackmail you.”
Will narrowed his eyes. “And what do you mean when you say stopped?”
“I pushed him. He was following me again, saying horrible things about you. He touched me, even if I asked him not to.” A pause. “Then I pushed him, and he fell down the stairs. Hard.”
Nigel didn’t move. “You mean hard like he’s not getting up, or hard like he’s calling his lawyer?”
“Well, he hit his temple on the handrail. It made like a crack sound,” Adam said, matter-of-fact. “And there was blood.” Adam tilted his head. “I didn’t enjoy it. But I don’t regret it.”
Nigel stopped. “That’s not the problem.”
“Then what is?”
Nigel stared at him for a long second. “You’re fucking scaring me a little, baby.”
“I scare you?” Adam whispered.
“You’re controlled and rational,” Nigel said. “You never lose control, and you always ponder every possibility of your actions. And yet somehow, you’re the one who might’ve dropped a man like a sack of wet bricks in the street and walked away like you just finished a shift at work.”
“I didn’t lose control,” Adam said. “I knew exactly what I was doing.”
The room went quiet.
“Jesus,” Darko whispered. “Why are you not freaking out?”
Adam turned to face them fully. His voice didn’t tremble. His hands didn’t shake. He looked at all four of them.
“I’m processing,” Adam said. “Just not the way you expect.”
“You process like a serial killer in a tax audit,” replied Will. Adam rolled his eyes.
“He’s probably dead, but I didn’t check to make sure. He just wouldn’t listen to me: I told him to stop. I told him to leave you all alone. He didn’t care. He thought I wouldn’t do anything because I’m polite. Because I look soft.”
Nigel finally stepped forward. “Adam—”
“I’m tired of people thinking they can take advantage of me, Nigel.”
Hannibal exhaled, not with relief. “Where?”
Adam answered. Precise. Coordinates more than a street name. Hannibal nodded, already pulling out his phone.
“Wait,” Nigel said. “We’re not dumping a body—”
“We are, Nigel; it’s not like it’s our first time. What the fuck else can we do?” replied Darko.
Will, who hadn’t spoken until now, turned to Adam. “This isn’t going to go away.”
“I know,” Adam replied. “That’s why I called all of you.”
He looked at Nigel directly. “I need help. An alibi.”
Nigel blinked. “You want to lie?” That was new. Adam hated lies; they made him almost sick.
“Nigel, he was talking about finding you and killing you all in front of me. He said he was going to make sure that you suffered, that he was going to make me look. You’ve always protected me without saying a word. Now that I did something to protect you, please help me to get away with it like you did before, or I’m just dealing with it myself.”
Hannibal was looking at him. "Of course, Adam. And thank you." He was going to keep an eye on him.
The rain had slowed. Will and Hannibal were already covering tracks. Hannibal was on a burner call with someone from the city’s sanitation department. Will had gone to “borrow” footage from a convenience store camera two blocks from the incident.
Nigel and Adam stood side by side, their fingers intertwined.
“You’ve never asked me to lie for you before,” Nigel said, voice low.
“I’ve never needed to.”
“You’re not scared?”
“I know what I did,” Adam replied. “And I know why I did it. I’m not scared. I’m just… calculating risk.”
Nigel gave him a smile. “That’s the most Adam sentence I’ve ever heard.”
Adam looked at him. Really looked. “I didn’t call you first because I thought you’d magically resolve the situation,” he said. “I called you because I knew you’d understand.”
“Understand what?”
“That I can protect you, just like you protect me. That I love you so much, and that I love you to the point of killing someone.” Nigel looked at him in the eyes; the words punched all the air out of his body. He caressed Adam’s cold cheek and then kissed him. “I love you too, gorgeous. Thank you for taking care of us.”
They crafted the alibi like a play.
Adam was at the apartment all night. Nigel was with him, and they were watching old episodes of an old anime that Nigel loved.
Darko swung by with pizza and stayed for two hours. They played chess.
Hannibal and Will dropped in late, arguing about a case they were working on. Witnesses saw them at the diner next door.
Cell pings were rerouted. A few texts backdated. Chris’s car? Moved. Dumped somewhere less incriminating. Everything was stitched together with threads of truth. Enough honesty to pass a stress test.
“Why are we so good at this?” Darko muttered.
“Because we’ve all done worse,” Hannibal answered, smiling.
The news ran it soft: Local man dies falling down a flight of stairs. No suspects. No surveillance.
Adam watched the segment quietly, seated between Nigel and Hannibal.
“They’re not going to dig?” Nigel asked.
Adam finally said, “Good.”
Hannibal looked over, smiling. “You’re not just relieved. You’re satisfied,” he pointed out. Adam didn’t deny it.
Nigel just stared at him, in awe. “You’re colder than I thought.”
Adam glanced at him. “I learned that from the best teachers around.” Nigel grinned, looking at the others and then coming back to Adam’s eyes.
Later that night, they stayed at the apartment. Hannibal was cooking, and no one would miss a dinner kindly offered by him.
Darko leaned on the fridge, watching Adam refill the kettle. “Y’know,” he said, “if I didn’t know you better, I’d be a little scared of you now.”
Adam shrugged. “Maybe people should be.”
Darko looked at him for a long moment. “For what it’s worth, I’d lie for you again. We’d all do. No hesitation.”
Adam nodded, smiling sweetly. “That’s why I called you.”