But I’m already running out the door and her voice fades to nothing as I sprint through the halls toward the front door. My weariness from travel has been forgotten.
“Jones!” I call as I near the foyer. “I need a ride.”
He appears from nowhere, as he always does. “Miss?”
“I need a ride to the hospital.”
He stares at me. “Does your mother know?”
I nod, a lie.
“Yes.”
He can’t check with her, because he knows full well she’s taking a nap to rest up from the trip. He’s apprehensive, but he can’t say no because I might be a child, but I’m a Savage child.
“Very well. I’ll pull the car around.”
We’re heading toward town within a minute.
The country turns into the city and the streets all lead to one place.
To Dare.
I’m out of the car before the wheels have even stopped turning, racing into the hospital, through the people, only stopping to ask directions to Dare’s room.
Then I’m off again, running through white halls and sterility, and I don’t stop until I burst through the door of a room on the fifth floor, until I see Dare resting in a bed.
He’s alone, and the room is quiet.
I pause, hesitating now.
He’s asleep, his dark lashes inky against his cheek.
I marvel at how big he is, how much he’s grown over the last nine months, at how beautiful he is even in slumber. He’s long, he’s slender, he’s strong. He’s a man. I gulp and the wave of warmth that gushes through me is confusing at the same time that it’s familiar. I’ve always felt it when I looked at him, but it’s more pronounced now.
It’s unarguable.
Dare opens his eyes.
“Cal?” he asks in confusion, groggily, and he searches the doorway behind me.
“I’m alone,” I tell him quickly, striding into the room and sinking into the chair next to him. “What happened? Why are you here?”
I itch to reach over and grab his hand, to offer him comfort, to touch him.
But I can’t. Because he probably wouldn’t want that. He’d reject me and that would be devastating. I’d never recover.
“I’m fine,” he assures me. “It’s no big deal. Just a minor hiccup.”
“Did my uncle do this?” I ask, the words cold on my lips, the thought even colder in my head.
Dare shakes his head. “No.”
“Where is he?”
“Not here,” his answer is blatantly obvious. “I’m alone.”
“Not anymore,” I tell him stoutly.
You’ll never be alone again. I swear it.
“Why are you here?”
I meet his gaze and in his, I find the thread of rebelliousness that I was so afraid had been smashed by the Savages. He grins.
Dare me.
“I got myself a tattoo for my sixteenth birthday. And I had a reaction to the ink, apparently.”
“A tattoo?” I can’t even keep the joy out of my voice. Because this is so Dare. And this is something Richard and Eleanor will hate. That, in itself, gives me joy. “Is it something cute?”
He stares down his nose at me. “Cute? Like a puppy?”
“Maybe. Or a kitten.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t do cute.”
I snicker. “Well, what is it?”
“Writing. On my back.”
I wait. He sighs.
“It says Live Free.”
My heart picks up because that’s so utterly perfect. I tell him that, and he grins again. “I know. But who knew I’d have a fracking reaction?”
“Can I see it?”
He shakes his head. “Nah. Not right now. It’s covered up with bandages and it doesn’t look good. But you can see it after the swelling goes away.”