From Chapter 1 of Never Lost
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—”
Max 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 that 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 one of the likelier possibilities.
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. He 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.”
He 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 person would expect a thank you.” Before I could scoff in outrage, he 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, he 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, he 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.
We’ll find out soon what exactly Resi’s deal is, but how about in the meantime, leaving me a review?