The Girl Who Dared to Endure (The Girl Who Dared #6)

How was I possibly going to do that? How could I even look him in the eye after everything? I had feelings for Grey, but he had been gone for so long, and in the process of waiting for him, I had allowed Leo a place in my heart.

Oh God, I had betrayed Grey. Because that was what was happening every second that I drew closer and closer to Leo. Even if I had any doubts before, they were completely washed away by the fact that I was standing outside of Grey’s door, wishing I was in Leo’s arms, not having to deal with this. It was so tempting, but also cowardly, and that wasn’t who I was.

Besides, it wasn’t like he was going to remember me. Leo had said he was in his teenage years, and I had met him when he was older than that.

Then my mind drifted to the time that Leo had been sleepwalking and tried to kiss me over and over again, with an intensity that I recognized as Grey’s. He had somehow come to the surface and known me then. Would everything suddenly fall back in place for him if I walked in there right now? Could that even happen? What would I do if it did?

I’d like to think that I’d be honest with him, but somehow, I knew it wouldn’t be that easy. If he managed to look at me in that way that made my breath catch and my knees turn to gel, would I falter? Would I turn my back on Leo and choose Grey? Or turn my back on Grey and choose Leo? How could I do either thing and live with myself?

Did I even want him to remember me?

A part of me screamed that I did, but it was matched with a side that wanted Leo just as badly. Both of them were as different as could be, and yet my heart yearned for them, anyway.

Please don’t let him remember me, I prayed, begging for at least one thing to be uncomplicated tonight. I promise I will figure out what to do about this mess tomorrow. Just let me have this one thing tonight.

It took every ounce of my considerable willpower to press the button and open the door, but I managed. My personal feelings were secondary to Grey’s situation. My concerns over his wellbeing had to take priority over my own hang-ups. If he recognized me, we’d go from there. If he didn’t, same plan.

The door slid up, revealing a bedroom in a state of disarray. The mattress was flipped up on one side, the corner of it catching on a wall so it created a lean-to. Uniforms had been flung out of the closet, and technical manuals were strewn across the floor.

But I barely had time to register any of that, because Grey’s crimson-clad figure emitted a hoarse cry of anger to the left of me, and a second later he was charging toward me with an angry bellow of, “Leave me alone!”

I could’ve stopped him easily—the position of his arm and the way he held his hand were signs that he didn’t know how to throw a good punch—but instead, I stood my ground and held up my hands, squeezing one eye shut in preparation for the blow. Grey wasn’t much of a fighter, and definitely didn’t like to hit women, so I was hoping his reflexes would catch up long before he hit me. But if he hit me, it probably wouldn’t hurt that much. Either way, the act of not attacking or retaliating would throw him off. His feet thundered closer… and then the rhythm broke as he came to a sudden stop, inches in front of me.

I slid one eye open and looked up at him. He was staring down at me, his nostrils flaring and his brown eyes dark and filled with the promise of a storm. I searched them for recognition, and when none flared, relief filled me that I didn’t have to deal with that conversation, followed quickly by guilt.

Shaking both feelings off, I gave him a tremulous smile. “Thanks for not hitting me?” I asked, curling it up into a question at the end.

He gave a surprised huff and backed off a step, carving a little more space between us. I took a moment to ease away from the wall I had backed up against and tugged on the edge of my uniform, the garment feeling inexplicably tight.

“Why am I here?” he barked, and there was a sullen anger in his voice. I looked up at him and found his eyes filled with defiance. But as I peered a little deeper, I saw a glimmer of fear there.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I assured him, and then paused, recalling Quess and Maddox’s comments about him growing violent, and speared him with a hard look. “But if you continue to assault my people, I will have to sedate you.”

He scowled at me and tipped his chin up a notch. “You still didn’t answer my question.” I smiled in spite of myself. He was Grey, through and through—unrelenting to a fault. Single-minded focus that would tear through all extraneous data to get right to the point. Oh, he knew how to be indirect, but he did love challenging authority. He just got a little smoother about it when he was older.

His eyes flicked to my lips and narrowed in suspicion. “What’s so funny?”

Crap. Lie fast, and lie believably, Liana. “Sorry,” I told him contritely, pulling the smile back some. “I just respect a guy who stays on task.”

One eyebrow rose, and was followed by one lip, which curled up flirtatiously. “You hitting on me, Knight lady?”

The thought sobered me, the conflict from earlier rearing its ugly head and roaring. I shook my head, offering him a smaller, tighter smile. “Not at all,” I told him gently. “And to answer your question, you’re here because you had a little accident.”

“Accident?” His strong eyebrows drew together into a tight point over his nose as he frowned. “Why am I not at the Medica, then?”

I hesitated and then shook my head. I had no answer for that. Telling him anything resembling the truth would sound insane to him, especially with where he was in his personal timeline, so I settled on the best kind of truth I could find: the misdirect. “It’s complicated. Can I… Can I ask you some questions?”

Grey’s mouth twisted in uncertainty, but he nodded. “What do you want?”

I licked my lips and decided to start with introductions. “My name is Liana Castell. What’s your name?”

“Grey Sawyer,” he replied automatically. His words brought me pause. When I met him, he had already been Grey Farmless, his surname having been changed after his parents dropped him from the Farming Department. I tried to remember how old he had been when he was dropped, but I didn’t think he’d ever mentioned it. Obviously, we were still earlier than that in his memories.

“How old are you?” I asked.

“Seventeen,” he said, uncrossing his arms and puffing up his chest a little. I could imagine him doing that when he was younger, trying to look older, but given that he was twenty-five, it only served to make him look boyish, eliciting yet another smile from me. “You?” he demanded a second later, his eyes dropping to my lips.

“Twenty-one,” I told him. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Confusion riddled his features, and then his eyes grew distant for the space of several heartbeats. “I had a fight with my parents,” he said finally, and his voice was awash with pain and frustration. “They… My…” he paused, one hand going up to rub his arm in a nervous gesture. “My ranking keeps falling, and I can’t seem to do anything right. I don’t know why. I study hard; I work harder, but… Scipio hates me! I don’t know why, but he does, he—”

He stopped mid-sentence and looked at me, his eyes welling with terror. “Oh no,” he whimpered. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry. I know Scipio doesn’t hate me, I just—”

My heart swelled up for him, and I instinctively stepped close to him and wrapped him up in a hug, wanting to reassure him the best way I knew how. This wasn’t my Grey—not yet—but this was the boy who would become my Grey, and I was meeting him during the hardest time in his life, from his perspective.

And I knew it would only get worse for him. His rank would continue to fall, until his family dropped him from the department entirely. He’d be on his own until he found Roark… and then he’d lose him too. I hugged harder, hurting for the memories that he had yet to know, and to my surprise, he hugged me back.