The Gender Lie (The Gender Game #3) by Bella Forrest (ebook reader for laptop TXT) 📗

“Pretty good, considering I’m being taken care of by a woman whose son tried to set me up for a bombing I had no knowledge of.”

Desmond frowned. “Mr. Croft, please, I’ve explained to Violet…”

I waved my hand. “Whatever. Regardless, you offered haven to Violet, myself, her brother, and… no, probably not Ms. Dale, and we’re all awesome friends now, right?”

Desmond smirked, her eyes glistening with laughter. “I knew I’d like you,” she remarked.

“Interesting thing, hindsight, huh?”

There was a flash of something behind her eyes and her face tightened. “Mr. Croft, I had no idea you and Ms. Bates were malcontents. You were just pieces to me—and unfortunately for you, you were expendable. However, given the situation, I have done my best to make amends. I hope you’ll consider that the next time your patronizing streak manifests.”

I narrowed my gaze at her. “You have this blunt thing down, don’t you?”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“The act, right? It’s bold, but then again, you’ve got a lot of guts.”

Desmond looked unfazed under my scrutiny, and that in itself was telling. Most people who were bad liars would start to protest. But she was schooled, careful and precise. She could slip in and out of the role, but only when it suited her. It took a keen eye to pick up on the signs, but they were there.

In the way that she opened her mouth to retort before slowly closing it and forming a tight smile. In the calculating gaze that she leveled at me as she ran through the options that would be most effective on me. She was so smooth, so collected about it, it was a wonder that I had even picked up on it. But I had, although I wasn’t sure what it meant yet.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Croft. I do hope to see you up and walking soon,” she said after a moment. “If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

I shot her a smile that was as fake as King Maxen’s and watched her leave, calm and collected. Dr. Tierney came back in and looked at me expectantly.

“Can I get a piece of paper and a pen?” I asked.

“Of course,” she replied.

24

Violet

I was dangling between two thin lines, trying desperately not to wet myself as I carefully examined the explosive device in front of me. I did my best to ignore the vast darkness below, taking care to focus the flashlight on my helmet on the massive concrete pillar in front of me. The bomb removal task was taking longer than anyone had thought, but that was because of the sheer volume of explosives the Matrians had rigged the facility with.

I had been assured several times that the two lines would hold me, and that if the lead line broke, I would still have the back-up line to catch my weight. Plus, there was a man waiting on the catwalk above with the electronic winch ready to go.

To be honest, when I found out about this particular detail of the job, I had been beyond hesitant to take it. But with my brother being cold and non-communicative, and with Viggo doing… whatever it was he was doing, I needed the distraction, and this one promised hours of work, as well as a bone-jarring fear that could keep my mind off anything.

Except it wasn’t really working. Even as I swung in the air, trying to pry a detonator out of the sculpted explosive, I still found my thoughts drifting to Viggo. I wasn’t even angry at him anymore—not really. I was worried about him.

I had no idea how he was doing, and it bothered me. I kept trying to remind myself that he didn’t want me there, but it didn’t matter. I couldn’t stop wondering if he was eating well, or how his exercising was going.

“Hey, Violet!” came a shout from above and I lowered my arms, tilting my head up to see Owen being lowered down slowly face down. A wave of vertigo hit me and I shook my head, focusing my gaze back on the wall.

“You’re insane,” I said, turning back to the silver pin jutting out of the mound of brown explosive clay.

“Says the girl tinkering with a bomb,” he replied, coming to a stop next to me.

“What are you doing down here?” I asked as I slowly pulled the detonator pin out. I carefully wiped it off using a cloth clipped to my belt and then put it in a small bag that was attached to my harness.

“Looking for you, actually. Well, that and I came to help. But… I… uh… have some news that you really aren’t going to like.”

I frowned as I pulled out my knife, carefully sliding it under the soft clay-like explosive. “Maybe you shouldn’t tell me when I’m playing with this crap,” I said as I began to pry it from the cement.

“You need to hear about it now before you see it later.”

I paused and turned toward him. “What?”

“Your brother asked to be moved back to the cells.”

“What?!” I exclaimed, cringing when the sound of my voice reverberated back from the walls loudly. I waited for it to fade before turning back to Owen. “What?” I asked more softly, but twice as insistently.

Owen flinched and fidgeted on his rope line, the rope creaking ominously under his weight. I tensed, but the line continued to hold. “Before you get upset, let me remind you that it was at his request.”

“Who did he ask?”

“Desmond.”

My throat constricted. “Did… Did he give a reason why?”

“You’re going to have to ask him that. I wasn’t present at the time.”

I rested my head against the rope line, trying to process the disappointment and hurt I was feeling. I didn’t know why I hadn’t seen this coming. Every time I tried to interact with Tim, he had been cold, distant. I knew he was trying to keep his distance because he was worried