Page 2 of Never Lost (The Unchained #3)

“Some of them did. One of the most powerful guys on the board was anti-slavery, and he was my biggest advocate —defended me through countless complaints and threats. But he resigned this month—abruptly.” She sank further into the pillows in uncharacteristic despair. “I’ve been thrown to the wolves.”

I winced. “So what do we do now?”

“I didn’t get that far with Maeve—you probably did better communicating with her than I did—but from the sound of it, Resi’s given up on mere psychological manipulation and has moved on to false imprisonment.

It sounds like there is at least one, maybe two other girls locked up in there.

And before we move any further, deal with Maeve’s legal situation, or anything else, we’ve got to do something about that.

” She nodded toward the mutilated girl in the hammock.

“Maeve was circumspect about it, but that’s not the worst I’m afraid they might be facing from Resi. ”

I gasped. “But why now? Why is she locking them up now, when she wasn’t before?”

“Something spooked Resi. Spooked her a lot, I’d say.”

“What?”

“Two theories. One, I suspect Langer has a deadline looming with his investors. He’s worried that Resi isn’t delivering.

He’s putting her in a squeeze, and she’s desperate.

Two, she might have found out one of the girls was freeborn—or Langer might have.

I don’t know how, or how or why the girl ended up there, but it means she’s now committed a crime that the police might actually care about.

The good news is, if we can get to that girl, Alma, whoever she is, she can testify in court about what she witnessed. ”

Another theory was brewing inside my head. “Do you think Langer even knows? Maeve never met him, from the sound of it.”

Erica looked at me critically. “Anything’s possible, I suppose.”

“So… then can we call the police?”

Erica shook her head. “The police will help the freeborn girl. For the others, they’ll do the exact opposite.”

“Then I’ll do it,” I said immediately. I didn’t even have to think. “I’ll go. Maeve can show me where.”

I hadn’t realized Maeve was awake until she spoke in Luxembourgish. She must have been listening, curled up in the hammock, silent as a shadow while still taking in every single thing we were saying.

She’d had plenty of practice at that.

Now I whipped out the translation app on my phone, but she repeated what she’d said in French before I had the chance.

“I know exactly where to go in the house.”

“But how?” I asked, also in French, as Erica and Milagros watched us with concern, not daring to interrupt to ask for a translation. “I thought you weren’t allowed to leave the room.”

“My friend told me all about it,” she replied. “She went everywhere. Resi liked her best. She told her everything. She let her go everywhere.”

“Friend?” I asked warily. “What friend?”

This time, Maeve smiled. “Lemaya.”

HIM

That evening, I got a call from one of the assistants, telling me to go down to the parking lot.

I did, just as a silver Porsche convertible—gleaming so bright in the evening sunlight that it hurt my eyes—sped from around the corner and up the circular drive.

The arrival of the car surprised me. The identity of the driver did not.

I just stood there, staring at the model, blinking. My mouth was probably hanging open, but I didn’t care.

“Is that?—”

Langer raised his dark sunglasses and nodded. “It’s a nice day and I’ve had my eye on this one for a while, so I got it for a twenty-four-hour test drive,” he explained. “Get in.”

I had no specific reason to object other than spite, and my feelings of spite toward Langer, at this point, weren’t nearly as strong as the almost supernatural draw I was feeling toward this car.

My hands were practically shaking as I removed my suit jacket and shoved it in the minimal space behind the two black leather seats, rolling up the sleeves of my shirt.

I wasn’t exactly nostalgic for my old castoff clothes, but one thing was certain: in the desert heat, keeping cool in jackets and dress shirts—no matter how awesome they looked—was a lost cause.

Of course it also occurred to me right away that this might be an opportunity to get answers.

I had used the rest of my time at work that week to look for them, firing up the tablet I’d left charging, and experimenting to see which of the passwords worked where.

Some of them didn’t work, which I’d expected.

Some of them revealed files behind additional security that I’d need to try to hack into.

And some unlocked some files so huge that it would take days to make any sense of them.

Many appeared to be financial. Resi had wanted access to the books and been shut down, so it wouldn’t surprise me if she—and Corey—had been working on finding another way in.

Unfortunately—though calculus had come easily—finance, for someone who had never had any money, had been easy not to waste time on trying to understand.

So before I got much further, I had to go to school.

Good thing I’d always wanted to go to school.

As for Lemaya, by the time I got back from my spying expedition, she was gone, and I hadn’t seen her all week. Of course Resi ordering her to be imprisoned, tortured, and/or killed because she’d allowed me to sneak away from the tour wasn’t the only possibility, but it was definitely a possibility.

Fucking hell, was there any woman I’d ever interacted with whose life I didn’t end up ruining?

I sank into the seat, hoping Langer couldn’t tell that I’d never been in a convertible before.

Langer didn’t say anything as he slammed on the gas pedal and I savored the sound that beautiful German engineering made as it roared to life.

Another thing I could get used to but shouldn’t.

And then, as suddenly as a pair of screeching tires, I stopped.

I wasn’t going on any joyrides. Not today. “Max, wait. I—” I bit my lip.

“She’s fine.”

“What?”

“Keith’s daughter. Curly Sue. Loulou. That’s what he calls her, anyway. I forgot what the hell her real name is.” He glanced over.

“Louisa,” I said faintly, burying my head in my hand and sinking into the soft leather seat as he pulled out onto the highway at top speed. I kept my eyes on the pavement melting away beneath the tires as saguaros flew by against the backdrop of the ever-distant mountains. “How do you know?”

“I talked to him this afternoon. I know you think I’m lying because you always do, but I’ll even show you the message he sent me. He mentions her by name.”

“No,” I said weakly. “I don’t need to see it.”

So Resi’s claws hadn’t reached Louisa. Yet. I felt the tight knot of dread in my chest that had been my companion since that afternoon fade by a few degrees. Maybe for a few hours, I could have only two people to worry about instead of three.

“And I’ll ask about her again tomorrow.”

“He’ll get suspicious,” I muttered, hating to admit that Langer was again offering the worst thing in the world he could possibly offer to someone who had long ago vowed to kill him: kindness.

“No, he won’t. Besides, I see you pining over her every damn day like the lovesick teenager you are while failing to offer any better ideas. And, anyway, I’m good at this shit.”

“What, deception and subterfuge? Yeah. I noticed.”

Langer smirked. “I’d tell you to look in the mirror, but you wouldn’t recognize yourself in those clothes.”

Funny guy.

“Anyway, a less self-aware man would expect a thank you.” Before I could scoff in outrage at this prospect, Langer continued, “But I don’t.

Because as much as I’ve tried to create the illusion that you’re here by choice, you’re not, and to expect you to be grateful for that would make me as delusional as Keith.

But I will take this opportunity to point out that you’ve yet to successfully catch me in a single actual lie. To you, anyway.”

“You’re wrong.”

Langer whipped his head around so fast I was surprised the convertible didn’t go flying off the road.

“You keep telling me my sister was never here, but you’re wrong.”

Eyes on the road again, Langer paused before answering. “I know.”

Now it was my turn to whip my head around. “What the fuck, Max? You knew and you didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t know until today, and I’m telling you now,” he said irritably. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter anymore because she’s gone. She left. Okay?”

Even the roar of the engine seemed to quiet as I sat silently suspended in a wind tunnel of horror. “Gone? When? Where?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? Do you know what this means? What I had to go through to get—” I groaned and ran both hands through my hair in frustration, unable to even form sentences. I was back to square one. Below square one.

“I fucked up, okay? I’m sorry. Resi lied.”

“No shit, she lied, and thanks to you, now my sister could be anywhere.” For the first time, I twisted in the seat, turning my entire body toward Langer.

“Fucking hell, Max, how tightly does this woman have you by the balls? Why do you believe everything she tells you unquestioningly? You’re fucking her, aren’t you?

Because that’s the only explanation I can think of that makes the least bit of sense. ”

“I’m not fucking her.”

“Then what? What is this all-important, all-consuming history between the two of you that nothing, not even the truth, can come between?”

Wordlessly, Langer swung a hard right down a dirt side road, one that seemed to lead clear out into the middle of the desert, and I had a feeling, not for the first time recently, that I’d just made a huge mistake.

“She’s my sister.”

1 ? “Repeat yourself, please. Slowly.”