Page 66 of Never Bound

“All joking aside, if I were Keith Wainwright-Phillips,” Langer went on, “and had my entire fortune wrapped up in this project—not to mention having my name on the deed for this warehouse, thanks to a suggestion fromyou—I’d be starting to get a bit, I don’t know, concerned.”

“That’swho you’re worried about?“ Resi asked, keeping her voice tuned to that sweet, innocent frequency I was beginning to dread the sound of. “I’ve seen him around you. He’s like a starry-eyed kid getting a chance to kick a ball with his football hero. I really don’t think you need to preoccupy yourself with him.”

“I wouldn’t underestimate him. When he was a CEO, it took him only five years to turn some bottom-of-the-barrel insurance provider into one of the most valuable firms in the West.”

“Yeah, by insuring companies whose slaves got hurt or killed on the job,” she scoffed.

What the fuck? What, was she against slavery for everyone exceptme?

“He’s coming around,” said Langer, though he didn’t sound entirely confident. “And, sure, I thought he was an idiot, too, at first, and he may have gone off the deep end recently, but he’s not some neophyte, and hewon’twait around forever. He’s going to want to see some ROI, and soon.”

“I thought Rocket Boy was supposed to take care of that,” she sniffed, trying to regain her dulcet tones and not entirely succeeding.

“He will.”

The statement could easily have sounded ominous, but instead, it sounded … hopeful? Maybe even a little … proud? Weird.

“By the way, are yousureyou never had his sister working over here? Never saw her? Never even met her?”

“Yes, and why?” Her voice bristled, all the sweetness gone out of it in an instant. “What’s he been telling you? I don’t trust him. He’s a snake.”

I was flattered. I had no idea Resi thought so highly of me.

“He’s not a snake. He’s a kid who’s worried because his sister is missing, and he can’t fucking do anything about it because he’s a slave. Anyway, I believe you, so calm the fuck down. This isn’t about him, anyway. This is about you and White Cedar, and what I promised Keith that it would deliver. Thatyouwould deliver.”

“I am delivering,” she said, her voice heightened. “And I told you I could deliver it faster if you’d give me access to the books.”

“And I told you you’re crazy. Do you think I need the revenue service on my ass? I’m already paying a slave cash under the table, and that’s just for starters. The last thing I need isyoufucking around in the books for no good reason.”

“But … but …”

I could swear Resi was about to cry. She even gave a sniffle. It was all a sham, I was sure. She was a better actor thanIwas. And all of a sudden, it hit me like a shelf full of beakers falling on my head.Resi could manipulate Max.Not only manipulate but maybe even lie to him.

Well, shit. I’d really have to kill her now becauseIwanted to be the only one doing that.

“I just feel like sometimes you don’t trust me,” she went on. “Sometimes I wonder whether you evencareabout me.”

“Care about you?” Langer’s voice bore an entirely different tone than I’d ever heard from him before. Wait, this guy could actually be sensitive? Caring? Sure, it was far from themostsurprising part of this conversation, but it was certainly close. “Do we really have to talk about how many times I’ve bailed you out of trouble? Kept you from becoming a slave again? Kept you—”

Another long sniff as if she were feigning dabbing at her eyes or wiping her nose. “I know.”

One thing Resi had told mewastrue: there was history here. History that went back a lot further than the hush-hush bailout in Belgium that Erica had discovered. History between the two of them alone, history I could only begin to guess at. In any case, it weighed a lot, as history often did. And whatever it was, it seemed to have sparked a level of trust in Resi that was completely irrational for Langer and dangerous for everybody else.

“Don’t lose sight of why we’re doing this,Schatzi,” said Langer. “This is about so much more than money.”

Resi didn’t respond, but a moment between them passed, a moment I couldn’t see but only guess at. A hug? Something else?

“I need better security at the lab and at the house,” Resi spoke up in a slightly more robust voice. “For the past two nights, the cameras have picked up someone prowling around out there, and to top it off—” she cut herself off as if she’d suddenly decided she didn’t want him to know about whatever other problem she’d been about to describe. “Never mind.”

But it was enough. Dread hit me like a pair of soft, cold female fingers on the skin of my throat. I knew instantly who the prowlers were—well, not their names, but pretty much everything else. These were Erica’s people, the ones that “specialized in this kind of thing.” And whoever they were, I had no doubt that Resi had the means to trace them back to Erica—and by proxy, Louisa. Maybe she already had.

But, like so many times before when someone close to me was in danger, I was helpless. My nails dug into my palms with the kind of frustration and rage I knew tragically well.

Fuck Wainwright-Phillips, I thought, not for the first time. My master wouldn’t think he was so clever when his daughter ended updeadbecause the one person who could warn her had been rendered incapable of contacting her.

What’s more, I now knew Resi was lying to Max about Maeve.But still, where the hell is Maeve?

“Who do you think the prowler is?” Langer asked.

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