“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.”
He’s casual and friendly, but the notion, the mere thought, of looking at Dare’s bare back gives me a thrill. I’ve changed a lot since last summer. He just doesn’t know it yet. I started my period, I have to wear a bra… I’m completely different. On the outside, and on the inside. Unfortunately, they tell me that the monthly spike in hormones will contribute to my craziness, but I’m not going to dwell on that. I’ll just take what they tell me to take, and everything will be fine. It has to be.
Dare looks at me now, his dark eyes serious. “You’d better get back to the house. They’re going to know you’re gone. Jones is probably on the phone right now with Eleanor.”
I lift my nose in the air.
“I’m not afraid of her.”
He laughs, unconvinced. “Really?”
He knows better than that. Everyone is afraid of her. People say my grandfather died because he wanted to… to get away from her.
“I’m not going to leave you alone,” I tell him quietly, resolute.
His eyes waver for a minute, because I know that I’m one of only two people in the entire world who would risk Eleanor’s wrath for him. And I’m the only person in the world who risked it to be here with him today.
“It’s ok. I’m fine here,” he tells me, and his tone is strong, and his heart is brave. This is why I love him.
I love him.
I love him.
I love him because he’s strong, because he’s rebellious, because he’s so serious and sweet and because he lives free now. He lives free even if no one knows it yet but me.