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

I could sense an ache inside him, a need to be comforted. I let the hug go on for as long as possible before it got too weird, and even then I felt wrong stepping away from him.

“It’s okay,” I told him with a gentle nod and smile. “We don’t have to talk about that if you don’t want to.”

He gave me a considering look, his bottom lip disappearing into his mouth for a second. “How long do I have to stay here?” he asked.

I considered his question and then sighed. “I don’t have a good answer for that,” I told him. “It could be a few hours. Are you hungry? Can I get you anything?”

“Trying to win my heart through my stomach, eh?” he said jokingly, waggling his eyebrows at me.

I laughed, unable to stop myself. One other thing about Grey was that he was a terrible flirt. Not as bad as Quess could be, but then again, he was more of a charmer, whereas Quess was the master of inappropriate pickup lines. “I bet you say that to all the girls,” I teased.

“Girls? No.” He raked me with a salacious look, his smile widening. “I’ve been waiting for someone special. A woman.”

I flushed under his frank and flirtatious quip and tried to laugh it away. “Well, luckily I’m far too old for you, so that’s settled.”

“Only four years,” he retorted, and I tried to give him what I hoped was a stern look. His broad smile widened, and something dangerously close to recognition flared through his eyes. “Do I… Have we met?”

My heart thudded against my ribs, and I was shaking my head no before I could even consider whether it was a good idea or not. “No,” I lied to him. “I don’t think so.”

“Hm.” He pursed his lips at that, considering me. “We should.”

I frowned in confusion. “We just did.”

“No, for dinner sometime.” I stared at him, surprised that his seventeen-year-old self could be that audacious, yet feeling slightly flushed and… pleased by his attention.

Totally weird, Liana. He’s seventeen right now, I chided myself while simultaneously laughing him off. “I’m sure your girlfriend would have something to say about that.”

“She would if she existed,” he replied with a shrug. “It’s just too bad I’m waiting for someone special.”

“Oh? Like who?” I asked, my voice teasing.

I didn’t expect him to have an answer, but Grey—being Grey—surprised me. “Someone who sees me as more than the number on my wrist. She’s gotta be strong and fierce, too—everything I’m not, but want to push myself to be. I may not be the best fighter, but with her, I wouldn’t have to be. Fighting the world could be her thing; mine would be holding her when it grows too dark and hopeless for her. Loving her when she feels like she’s failed and pushing her to succeed even when she feels she can’t.”

His words might as well have been fire. They left me feeling flushed, raw, and needy, and seemed to burn away every bit of oxygen in the room. His words—his idea—of what he wanted sounded a lot like what I needed. I thought about my mother’s death and found myself wondering if things would’ve been different had Grey been there, coaxing me back to life through his love and care. I hadn’t let anyone close, not even Zoe or Alex or Leo. I wasn’t sure why I thought Grey would be any different, but a part of me wondered.

I put it aside quickly. It didn’t do me any good to think about what might have been. I’d learned that after my mother died, when the grief of it almost made me fall apart.

Instead, I went for a joke. “You don’t see yourself as the hero?” I asked lightly.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged again. “I’m not a hero,” he replied with a sad smile. “If I were, I’d have a higher ranking. But it’s okay. Because if not being the hero means I get to be there for the woman I love, then I’m glad. I don’t care about saving people or the world. I only want to care about her. I want to be her hero. Everyone else in the Tower can rot.”

A surprised laugh escaped me, but it died when he met my eyes and squinted at me. “Are you sure we haven’t met?” he asked, taking a step toward me. “There’s something very familiar about you.”

I hesitated and then shook my head, firmly telling him, “No, I’m sorry. I just have one of those faces.”

“Uh-huh.”

I cleared my throat against the doubt in his voice and decided that it would be best if I got out of there post-haste. This interaction was only confusing things. “I should go,” I told him. “But if you need anything, you can let Cornelius know. He’s a computer assistant who can hear and see everything going on in here. And he will tell me.”

“So if I want to see you again, I just have to ask this Cornelius?” he asked with a smile.

“Yes,” I said automatically. Followed by, “Well, no…” as soon as I realized my mistake. I shook my head, flustered as he stepped even closer, his smile growing. “Someone will help you,” I finally corrected myself. It didn’t matter to me that his mind was seventeen. The look he was giving me was masculine and hungry—and I was responding to it.

I had to go. “Thank you for your patience,” I told him lamely, before turning and fleeing through the door.





12





As soon as I stepped out into the hall, a shiver ran up and down my spine, sending signals that something was wrong. I looked around, trying to pinpoint the source of my discomfort, but the hall seemed fine. It sat still, silent, and empty.

And yet I couldn’t stop feeling that tingling sensation running under my skin, like I had stepped on a livewire and the current was strong enough to make my nerves twitch and jump.

I heard muffled voices to my left, coming from the direction of the war room, and I headed toward them, propelled by an urge I didn’t quite understand. The curving nature of the hall made it impossible to see straight down it—a design I had used to limit line of sight in case of a fight, and one I despised in that moment as I stalked down the hall, my eyes following the interior curve for any sign of movement.

I stopped when the treaded soles from a pair of boots slid into view right in front of Baldy’s room, and the hair on the back of my neck stood up as I took three more steps forward, my hand already opening the pocket where I had shoved the gun earlier.

Quess was on the floor, lying on his belly, blood streaming out of a gash just over his eyebrow. A dark, uncertain fear came over me as I realized he had been attacked, and I quickly checked both sides of the hall before I dropped to my knees next to him, my gaze constantly monitoring the hall as I placed two fingers on his neck. His pulse was strong and steady, and while I was relieved to find him alive, I had to know what had happened to him.

More importantly, I needed to know where Leo was. Quess was supposed to be watching after him, and someone had hurt Quess right in front of his door—and the who of it all was at the forefront of my mind. Was it the legacies? Had they tracked Baldy down? My heart pounded in my chest as a deep fear gripped me, and I stood up and rushed to the door, pressing the button in it and barely giving it time to fully open before I threw myself through it.

The room was just as I had left it, but Leo wasn’t on the bed. He wasn’t standing anywhere, either. The room was empty, save for a pair of open cuffs on the floor. I stared at it for half a second, wondering if the legacies had grabbed him thinking he was Baldy. If they were here for him, then that meant they were escorting him out right now. Which meant…

Tian! She was with Liam! If they knew Baldy was here, then they knew about him. And they had hurt Quess… What would they do to her?! I whirled away from the door, the fear an acrid taste in my mouth, and raced back down the corridor to the next door, the one opposite Grey’s. I pushed the button on the door. The pneumatic hiss was harsh as it opened, setting my teeth on edge.