The Gender War (The Gender Game #4) by Bella Forrest (read novel full TXT) 📗

cheer, and he turned back. The two conversed furtively for several more seconds, and then Peter stalked back, shaking his head.

I folded my hands behind my back as he approached, carefully lifting my shirt up so I could put my hand on the gun I was keeping there, tucked into the waistband. Peter approached us with a smile, but I could see a hard gleam in his eyes, as if a switch had been thrown.

“Sorry about that, man,” he started to say, and I pulled the gun on him. Owen flinched next to me. Peter froze, his eyes widening in fury, but the men behind him started to reach for their guns.

“Don’t,” I said, and they all went very still. “I will shoot him.”

Peter looked at me and the gun, and slowly raised his hands. “Donald was right,” he sneered. “You’re a warden.”

I gave him a little shrug. “Not at this very moment, but technically, yes.”

“Not just a warden,” the man with the moustache said, his voice dripping hate. “He’s Viggo Croft. You thought you could fool us, eh? Didn’t think we’d call your bluff? I’ve had you on my list for years, Croft.”

“And yet here I am, holding your leader at gunpoint,” I said tightly. “Did you predict that too?”

“There are six of us and two of you,” Peter broke in. “No offense, man, but not exactly your best odds.”

Just then, Owen put his fingers to his mouth and whistled, and in moments, Violet, Ms. Dale, Tim, and Jay pushed out of the trees in a rush, weapons bared and fists raised. I knew that Violet held her gun in her off hand, but you would have never guessed it from the confidence with which she stared down the barrel at the six men.

“I think the odds may have shifted,” I remarked. “Guns on the ground. Now.”

The vein in Peter’s jaw throbbed as he glared at me. “Put ’em down, boys—go slowly, eh? We don’t want these psycho women getting all trigger-happy on us.” He turned to Violet. “You aren’t on your period, are you? Because if you are, your man should never have given you a g—”

He never finished what he had to say. I had already crossed the small distance between us and struck him in the jaw. He crumpled to the ground, his eyes wide in shock. I stood over him, daring him to get back up, riding my fury like a bird riding the winds of a thunderstorm.

“You ever talk to her, or any woman, like that again,” I hissed as soon as he focused on me, “I will end you, your crew, and anyone else related to your stupid gang.”

I caught a tiny smile crossing Violet’s face out of the corner of my eye as I stepped back. Peter climbed back to his feet, rubbing his jaw, his expression murderous.

“So, what, you’re going to leave us out here?” he snarled. “How are you going to get across the border?”

I gave him a droll look. “I’m a warden, idiot. They’ll let me in. Now—you and your friends start walking. Head toward the river. I see any of you come back, I’ll put a bullet in your heads without thinking about it. Got it?”

Peter sneered again. “We ‘got it’. Let’s go, men.”

“Thanks for letting us borrow your truck,” Violet chirped after them as they reluctantly moved away.

As they shambled toward the river, pushing into the grass, the group of us kept our sights trained on where their backs disappeared into the dark for well after they were gone.

“I wish we could’ve tied them all up and arrested them,” I growled, and Violet nodded in agreement, her face stiff. I knew she was thinking of her own kidnapping by the Porteque gang.

As soon as we were reasonably certain they were gone, I looked at Owen. “Grab their guns and let’s get moving. I’m going to keep watching the riverbank until we’re on our way.”

The rest of the party snatched up the abandoned weapons, and then we piled into the men’s truck—I took the wheel, with Violet riding shotgun. I felt exactly zero guilt for stealing equipment from a group of people who dealt in human flesh. I turned us around, then began heading toward civilization the way they had come.

After we’d put enough distance between us and the gang members, I stopped the vehicle again. I jumped out and went around to the back, where I was surprised to see that Owen and Ms. Dale had already gotten out and were waiting for me, holding several pairs of handcuffs. “Looks like they came prepared,” said Ms. Dale, tossing one at me. I caught it and examined the mechanism—I could see that she had already modified it by sticking a thin piece of metal in the lock.

“Will these work?” I asked, slipping one around my wrist. It clicked, and I tugged it, but it wouldn’t open until I manipulated the little piece of metal with my thumb. Tim leaned out of the tarp covering the back, and I could see him examining the setup as well.

“It won’t pass a close inspection, but it’ll have to do,” Ms. Dale replied.

I tossed them back to her and nodded. “All right—Jay, Owen, Violet, and Ms. Dale—you are the terrorist cell. Tim, you’re with me.”

Tim nodded and carefully climbed out of the back of the truck. Violet moved past me, to climb into the truck, and I grabbed her, pulling her tight against me. “Once we’re in there, I don’t know what’s going to happen,” I whispered. “I’m… I’m beginning to hate this plan, Violet.”

She gave me a little smile and rose to her tiptoes to kiss me. “We’ll get through it,” she whispered. “I trust you. And… I think it’s a good plan.”

I let her go, watching her climb into the truck and sit down, cramming herself next to Ms. Dale, Jay, and Owen. She slipped into a pair of handcuffs, and I waited to make sure she could open them