Page 45 of Never Lost

In other words, I was doomed.

“I had a feeling you might say that,” was Max’s response on the helicopter, when I told him my plan—the plan I should have told him about right from the start. The plan that would, like no plan before, helpallof us: Maeve, Louisa, her father, Max,andthe girls.

I had neglected to mention myself. But if Max had noticed, he hadn’t said anything. He’d just listened closely, nodding. Reassured me that he’d look after Maeve, no matter what.

He knew my mind was made up.

He’d also told me how to change the entry codes but also that Resi knew a hack to get around it. So when I’d arrived at the lab, I not only did that but checked the locks and even pushed furniture in front of some of the doors. That wouldn’t hold forever. But hopefully, I wouldn’tneedforever.

Hopefully, in coming back, I hadn’t signed my own death warrant.

But I very well might have. Which probably explained the compact Smith & Wesson 9-millimeter that now sat on the steel table next to me. I’d never touched a gun before tonight, of course. Not like I hadn’t been curious, like many red-blooded males. But it had never needed to be spelled out for me that slaves handling firearms was Not Allowed.

Of course, a lot of things had changed. Butthathadn’t. Because theworldhadn’t. Yet.

Anyway, I was already so far outside the law at this point it didn’t matter. Besides, Max Langer had given it to me. I wasn’t sure how much credencethathad, though, now that the former corporate wunderkind was outside the law, too.

“Were you armed this entire time?” I had demanded when Max suddenly whipped open his jacket and pulled the pistol out of a holster.

“I was not. And why are you shouting?”

“Oh. Sorry,” I said, realizing that the whole point of the headset was so we wouldn’thaveto shout.

My eyes followed his manicured hands as he demonstrated deftly unloading the magazine and toggling the safety. My eyes grew wider by the second.

“Normally, I leave this stuff to my security staff, but I’m going in alone from here,” Max said before chambering a round and handing the loaded pistol over to me like a stick of gum.

I stared down at it uncomprehendingly.

“Well? Give it a try. You’re right-handed, right?”

“Yeah, but?—”

“Then that’s likely your dominant eye. But let’s find out.” After demonstrating, he signaled to the pilot to unlock the door and pushed it open.

Palms slick, heart hammering, my fingers curled around the cold, hard metal of the trigger, gazing down the sight with both eyes open as Max had suggested, aiming for the moon.

“Physics says it has to come down, you know,” I said.

“It’s bare desert below us now. Shoot.”

So I aimed a single bullet at the throat of that cold purple-black horizon, the jolt it returned as deep as if the projectile had lodged itself insideme.

“Thanks,” I said grudgingly. “I guess.”

Max smiled. “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Back in the lab, I decided Max must have Maeve by now. They must be on the plane, my sister’s golden eyes soon to reflect the promise of the horizon at first light, winging toward that postcard paradise I’d just thrown aside. And that did let me breathe a little easier, to think of Maeve safe in the clouds.

But not enough. Because I should be there. I should havebeenthere. I should have been the first one she saw, the first arms she ran to when they opened the gates for her. Because even though Max understood what freedom meant to the world, I was the only one who knew what freedom meant toher, and to myself. And it would be my only chance, ever.

“Hey.” Back on the copter, Max had recognized that same look in my eyes. “Kid. Look at me.”

Max had told the pilot to touch down in an empty wash about a mile away from the lab, and as much sand as the rooftop landing had churned up, it was about a thousand times worse now. It rattled the reinforced glass windows and made chaos of everything onboard, clothes and hair included, spraying grit in our eyes and down our throats. Still, I lingered, while the pilot’s annoyance practically vibrated through the engine. A bullet hole in his fuselage, and nowthis.

But Max hadn’t seemed to notice. I met his icy blue eyes one last time. Blinked. Held a steady gaze, the same one that had first made him pause and look twice, all those months ago.

“I might be the one buying her, butyou’rethe one who saved her,” Max had said. “I know that. And so does she.”