Page 67 of Never Broken

“So what? Maybe he’s just admiring the landscaping. What is your problem with him, anyway?” I demanded.

“What do you mean?” He pulled back.

“He gave us the tablet. He left and made sure the gardener left, too. Hesavedus. And he didn’t tell Daddy.”

“That’s because he doesn’t care. Not about what we did, anyway. You think Max Langer, with his aged tequila and private jets and fucking …banana farms, gives a fuck about me touching you? That he’s like your dad? Or like Corey the Douche?”

“Well, no, but?—“

“We’re a bargaining chip to him, that’s all. And mark my words, he’s going to cash it in. Maybe not tomorrow, or the day after, but he will. And he’s going to make a fuckton off it because he’s not a billionaire by accident.”

“What if he doesn’t?”

“Come on, Lou. You’re notthatnaive.”

I folded my arms. “Iampretty naive, actually. But—think about tonight,“ I pointed out. “Were you not there at the dinner table tonight? Did you not hear what I heard?”

“Not only did I hear it, I believe I was saying most of it,” he remarked. But his eyes softened minutely as if healmostwanted to believe I had a point.

“I know, and you were absolutely brilliant, so what are you so concerned about? I mean, the guy treated you like—like?—”

“Like a person?” he finished. “Oh, wow, he let me look him in the eye and call him by his name. Let’s give him the Nobel Peace Prize.”

I buried my head in his chest, chagrined. As usual, it had taken him seconds to completely call me out on my biases. “I’m sorry.”

He laughed a little and kissed my forehead. “Don’t be. You were doing it before it was cool.”

“He might even find a way to get rid of slavery altogether,” I said in a small voice. “He might?—“

“He’s not what he pretends to be,” he interrupted. “Trust me on this.”

“Why should I, when you won’t even tell me how you know?”

He paused. “Because it’s safer for you if I don’t.”

I gave up, for now. I knew that the notion that he’d failed to protect his mother and his sister— as if there was anything he could have done—still haunted him. It wasn’t surprising he’d prefer not to add me to the list. No wonder he’d reacted violently when I’d told him about the gardener threatening me—hewasviolent. The proof was all in his file.

Still, as privileged as I felt to be on any list of people he gave a damn about, which I suspected could probably fit on a Post-it with room to spare, he had to know I didn’t need it. Right? Hell, I’d come this close to throwing myself on the sword forhim. “You can’t protect me from everything, you know.”

“I know,” he said. “All too well.”

“Even if you were free, you couldn’t.”

He still stared out into the darkness, at the beyond. “It wouldn’t hurt.”

HIM

By the time I dragged myself back to the terrace, I’d long since seen Louisa safely off to bed, assuring her I was perfectly fine and not to worry. Speaking of hidden talents, I should have mentioned acting, considering I was ravenous, my entire body ached, and I was about five seconds away from collapsing in a heap on the tile. Worst of all, it had cost me my chance to get off.

Just as frustratingly, the other slaves had devoured most of the leftovers while I was outside, leaving only some squash on a small plate the housekeeper apologetically handed me. I almost preferred nothing. I choked it down and scolded myself for beingawfully picky for someone who used to subsist on gruel. But it did zero to take the edge off and I was already kicking myself for declining whatever Louisa had been about to offer.

But I was also glad I had because, from her, it would mean something. Because what Ihadwith her meant something—the kind of something I didn’t even have a name for yet; the kind where her tiny but steel-plated voice piping up across the dinner table was enough to make me momentarily forget that I was likely seconds away from being taken out back and flayed alive. Plus, I didn’t want her thinking that from now on, she’d have to worry about my diet, my sleep habits, and my sexual satisfaction—naturally, just the third one would be more than enough.

Oh, and I didn’t want her to feel betrayed when she found out everything I still hadn’t told her: like that her father was probably helping Max Langer with some diabolical plan to torture slaves, that Max Langer had my sister, and that my sister thought she had joined some revolutionary movement to free us all. If Louisa knew all of thatandheard what he’d said to me in German, maybe she’d understand why I still thought he was evil.

Nice tits, but seems like a handful. If you ever need any pointers on how to handle her …

No wonder he and the gardener got along. Still, he’d saved us. Without him, I’d be on my way to a mine already, and Louisa would be on her way to either ruin or slavery. And that outweighed all the crassness and misogyny in the world.

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