The Girl Who Dared to Think (The Girl Who Dared #1)

“I was going to say gotten caught. I have no regrets about giving you the pills.”

We turned down one of the halls, and he stopped, forcing me to as well. “Liana, are you sure about putting distance between you and your friends? I mean, they must be worried about you.”

I thought of Zoe and all the times she’d tried to reach out to me over the net, and shook my head. “Zoe helped me save you, and I know she wants to know what happened, but... if I tell her any more, I’m just dragging her further in. I can protect her better if I put some distance between us. In case I get caught, I can lie. Tell everyone I acted alone.”

Grey was silent for a long time. “That is... very noble.”

“No, it’s not,” I blurted out. I didn’t think of it that way, and I felt unworthy of the word. I was hurting my best friend in the wake of my decision, and I knew it. It was killing me inside, and every day I had to fight with the selfish part of me that just wanted to go to her and break down. But fear held me in place, the fear of losing her forever, and that was not nobility. “She’s my best friend,” I finally said, unable to come up with anything better to explain. “I love her.”

Grey nodded and looked ahead. “Okay,” he said after a few seconds had passed, with the tone of someone changing the subject. “So, in the event that we aren’t discovered or caught, your plan is what? Wait until we’re ready to go and then grab her and make her come along?”

I bristled at his tone. “Yeah, actually.” I gave him a challenging look, daring him to contradict me. “Is it that bad an idea?”

Of course, it wasn’t the best idea—it was barely a concept, but without further information on the how and the when of this mysterious exodus, I was working with what I had. But he didn’t have to point it out to me in such a condescending tone.

His eyes grew wide and he raised his hand, a sheepish smile on his face. “Not that I can think of; I was just curious. Would it just be her, or would there be anyone else?”

“Well, my brother, obviously. Although...” I sighed, my irritation at Grey fading as it was replaced with another, darker emotion, and I met his curious eyes. “He hasn’t netted me in the last few weeks, and I’m nervous for him.”

I had thought about him a lot the past few weeks, even tried to net him a few times, but he kept ignoring incoming transmissions. I was worried about him, worried about what he had told me, and hoping that he wasn’t digging into information that was going to get him killed.

“He’s not a Knight?”

I shook my head, a sad smile slipping over my lips. “No, he transferred to the first department he could.” I changed the truth some, because I wanted to keep Alex’s position as an Eye a secret. I didn’t like doing it, but there was no telling how Grey would react to that bit of information.

Luckily, he didn’t push for details, and I relaxed a little, allowing the exchange to flow more naturally. It was nice... and needed. I hadn’t been able to let my guard down with anyone for fear of getting caught, but he knew all of my crimes already, and he was complicit. I could speak a bit more freely in front of him, without having to worry about someone chiding me for not being a better slave to the Tower. Or worse.

“Okay, so your brother, my personal hero, Zoe, and... your parents?”

My smile dropped almost immediately, and I let out a dry chuckle. “No, my parents were born to serve Scipio. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say they were artificially constructed in his image.”

Grey grunted, and I looked over at him to see him running a hand through his hair. “Sounds just like my parents. Oh, God, please don’t tell me you’re my sister or something.”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it, but the joke was so sudden, his face so theatrically horrified. We laughed together, but all too soon it dwindled down, until we were looking at each other and smiling. I looked away first, my heart starting to flop around wildly, and we moved a few more steps down the hall before he spoke again.

“So, anyone else?”

“What?” I asked, confused. It took me a moment to recall the thread of our conversation. “Oh. Well, we couldn’t leave without Eric.”

“Eric?” A pause. “Is he... your boyfriend?”

I fought back a laugh at the forced casualness in his voice. But I couldn’t help it; I had to tease him. “Relax, Prince Charming. He’s a friend, and a good one. He didn’t abandon me when my rank started going down.”

“Oh? Is he high?”

“An eight,” I replied. “But don’t hold it against him. He’s just... one of those genuinely happy people. I don’t think he could think negatively about anything.”

“He sounds like a gem,” he said flatly.

“He’s a good guy,” I agreed.

“I’m sure he is. What department is he in?”

“Farms.”

“Of course he is.”

I laughed, as Hand males were generally known for their rugged build and handsomeness, working in the fields all day, which was an attractive quality to a lot of women in the Tower. There were rather distasteful idioms based around the phenomenon as well, whispered from mother to daughter. If Grey had remained a Hand, he’d likely have another thirty pounds of muscle sculpted on his frame. I, for one, was glad he didn’t have the extra bulk: muscular guys were not my type at all. I was a mind kind of girl.

We kept walking, eventually ending up in an elevator, the conversation changing to other things: how his recovery was coming along, how Roark was doing, and how the supply of drugs was holding up.

“I think we have enough to last forty people for a month,” he said speculatively.

“Okay, but what’s the end goal? I mean... are there forty people who are willing to come with us? Will they help us get parts and things to build some sort of...” I paused, trying to think of an appropriate word or phrase to describe what I wanted. “Transportation device?”

“Actually...” Grey smiled and stepped off the elevator. I looked up and realized we had gone up twenty floors to level 105. How we had gotten there was a mystery to me; I’d been focused on him and the way my heart had skipped a beat when I saw his flash of jealousy, and on feeling special—for the first time in a very long time. “Kind of, yeah. We aren’t sure how, yet, but that’s kind of the idea.”

“What are we doing up here?” I asked, abruptly changing the conversation. It was a little rude, but we were clearly not heading for Cogstown, given that we were a hundred floors above it. I had assumed we were walking back there together, and I was reminded again that we shouldn’t be seen together like this. It had been too long, and we were being too intimate. If we were being watched or had been spotted...