The Gender Game by Bella Forrest (historical books to read txt) 📗

"Anyway, none of this is the end of the world," Lee said as we entered the house. "In fact, we could twist this to our advantage."

"What are you thinking?" I asked, removing my shoes at the doorway.

We entered the kitchen and sat down around the table.

"Where's your notebook?" he asked.

"Here," I said, digging a hand into my jacket pocket and handing it to him.

Lee stroked his jaw as he paged through it, leaning back in his chair. "Hm. Okay. Interesting… And good. So far, he has nothing booked the night of the banquet. As you know, we can't have him having an alibi that evening…"

"How do we turn my collision with Viggo today into an advantage?" I asked again.

"Well, I was actually surprised that Viggo was so lenient with me. He isn't the type to dish out leniencies." Lee paused, glancing up from the notebook. "As hardened as he seems on the outside, he obviously does have weaknesses… I think he has a thing for Matrian girls."

"Well… he married one, so I guess he'd have to…"

Lee sat forward. "I think our strategy from now on—at least in regards to you—has become a lot simpler."

"What do you mean?"

"This further development of… rapport… between the two of you, shall we say, could be used to bridge the gap between him and us more."

"Bridge the gap? Why would we—?"

"We'll need to find a way for you to keep him isolated on the night of the banquet. To keep him away from anyone else's eye. In order to do that, you're going to have to make him go somewhere… Don't ask me where yet—that's something we'll have to figure out. But for any of this to happen, he's going to need to trust you. Gain his trust, and we have more control over him when the night arrives."

I lowered my brows at Lee. I would hardly describe what had happened today as "further development of rapport".

"Of course, another thing that works to our advantage in all this," Lee went on, "is that he needs money. That's the reason he fights in the first place; it pays well compared to other jobs…"

I crossed my arms over my chest, waiting for him to tie all his threads together.

He stood up and moved to the kitchen counter. Planting his palms down on the surface, he turned his back on me. He fell quiet for about a minute before drawing in a thoughtful breath and turning round again. His blue eyes rested on mine with a gleam of optimism—enthusiasm, almost—before he said, "Let's meet Viggo again tonight. I have a proposal to discuss with him…"

18

After Lee revealed his plan to me, we spent the rest of the day at home, monitoring Viggo's movements. According to the gym schedule, he wasn't due to visit the gym tonight, nor did he have any fights going on. Which meant he would in all likelihood head straight home after work. As evening came around, we watched his red flashing dot make its way toward the mountains, straight from the city center. Once he'd entered the foothills, Lee was confident enough about his direction for us to leave ourselves.

I didn't need to wear a suit this time. We rode out of the driveway on Lee's motorcycle, but instead of taking the usual route down to the city, we headed further upward, higher into the peaks.

It got chillier as we ascended, and I found myself grateful Lee had suggested I wear a jacket. It was silent up here too and soon we came to the end of the residential area and entered a long, deserted stretch of winding road that led us northward toward Viggo's territory.

It was a pity that the sun had gone down, as the verdant landscape sped away on either side of us. I imagined this place would have looked stunning during the day, with brooks bubbling beneath bridges, lots of trees. We reached an open plateau, allowing us an unrivaled view of Patrus beneath us. It was a fairly clear night, and beyond the glittering sprawl of Patrus City, I could make out the deep black stretch that was the river and then, beyond, the hazy glow of Matrus' borders. I couldn’t say that the sight made me feel homesick. Anxious to get back, because of the prize that awaited me, but not homesick.

Lee thundered the motorbike forward at a speed that made me nervous. "How much longer?" I asked him. My deep voice hadn’t worn off yet.

"Maybe ten minutes."

Ten minutes proved to be about accurate. A bungalow—which was really not much more than a glorified log cabin—came into view at the end of a dirt track. A familiar beetle-black motorcycle was parked outside its porch, next to a three-wheeled trailer that I guessed he used to transport larger objects. The building looked like only a one-bedroom, with perhaps enough space for a small living room, a kitchen and a bathroom. The large square windows were closed off by shutters, though a spill of warm light glowed through their cracks.

As Lee killed the engine and we got off the motorbike, we stood in silence for a few seconds, taking in the peaceful atmosphere. It was like another world up here. The middle of nowhere. The closest houses were settled nearer to the foothills, miles beneath us by road.

Lee reached for my hand, giving me a reassuring squeeze before the two of us approached the front door.

Lee knocked three times and my stomach clenched as I caught the sound of a door clicking, then heavy footsteps moving toward us.

A bolt was drawn, and then the front door creaked open. My lips unconsciously parted as Viggo towered before us in the doorway, bare-chested. He wore a pair of loose black pants, and clutched in one hand was a roll of cotton wool, in the other some kind of medicated ointment. His bare knuckles were red