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Trust might be too strong of a word. And I certainly wouldn’t put my life in his hands, but it’s enough to feel like he's not going to hurt me. I'm still more afraid of Jenkins, though.
"What are you going to do with the information?" I whisper.
"I won't tell Jenkins, if that's what you're worried about."
"Why should I trust you?"
"Because you don't have any other choice," he says.
Biting my cheek, I tip my head back, staring at the wall over his shoulder.
"Mostly I do computer things."
His brows pull low. "Now is not the time to be vague, angel."
"Accounting, business management, and anything else they throw at me. It's mostly a hodgepodge of things. I never work in one program for long before they switch it up and I'm constantly monitored."
"You've never reached out to anyone outside of the Guild? Family? The authorities? No one?" It's the accusation in his voice that breaks me.
"No, I haven't," I say, eyes unfocused, face a mask of emotionlessness.
It's as if my brain slowly shuts down, flipping off each section that makes up the essential parts of me one by one. It's the only way I've survived thus far. At this point, I'm a shell of my former self. I wouldn't recognize her if she came up and slapped me in the face. I no longer care enough to protect myself beyond what my body does without my say-so, acting instinctively. One of these days I'll shatter into a million pieces and yet I won't care in the slightest.
"Don't shut down on me again. I didn't mean it like that," he murmurs.
Rage blazes up, burning away the apathy. "Yes, you did. I know how it looks. I have all this supposed access, yet I never reached out to the cops. I never tried to escape. I never tried to do anything other than keep my position because while it was terrible, I didn't have to live through the atrocities others have had to go through. You think I'm selfish. Yet you have no idea what I've been through. You can't even fathom what it's like to survive in this world. So, save your judgment for someone who actually fucking cares."
I'm panting by the time I'm done with my tirade. This man makes no sense to me. One minute he's telling me he's not going to hurt me and urging me to make a deal, and the next he's judging me for not trying to save myself from the hell I've been dragged into.
"I don't think you're selfish. Aelia—" He sighs, scrubbing his hands over his face. "I'm taking a risk here. You hold a lot more power than you think."
I snort, glancing away. I'm totally fucked here. The only way I've stayed safe is by toeing the line. There's no way I can fly under the radar, since I'm stuck in the same room as Jenkins, but I do my best. If I don't draw attention to myself, maybe I'll survive another day.
"What risk?"
He eyes me, as if he's staring into my soul, assessing whether I'm worthy. His stony face gives nothing away, which isn't very reassuring. When he nods, I feel like I've won something. What that is, I don't know, but as he opens his mouth, butterflies erupt in my stomach.
"I'm from Rima."
Pressing my tongue to the roof of my mouth, I try to keep the words inside, but I fail.
"Good for you. Is that all? I really need to get going."
He scowls, rolling his eyes. "I wasn't finished."
"Well, by all means," I say, gesturing for him to go on.
"I'd rather not have the Guild taking over my city," he whispers. "And I'd like your help in bringing them down."
"No." My response is immediate.
I don't care who he is or what he needs, I can't help him. He might be willing to risk his life, but I'm not willing to risk mine. I've lived this long as a shadow of myself. I don't even know who I would be if I was free. My life is merely a series of events, strung together in order for me to survive as long as possible without breaking completely. Nothing will change my circumstances. Especially not a man. Freedom isn’t in my future—only death. And to even entertain that hope would send me into a spiral I’d never get out of.
"What do you mean 'no'?"
"No is a complete sentence. I'll hide your secret but keep me out of it."
Seven
