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

she was still there, still talking to me. “Were you looking for something else?” I asked, picking invisible lint off the blanket.

“How about… an egotistical jerk? Do you have one of those?”

I met her glance with a non-committal shrug. “Maybe,” I said idly.

“How about an inconsiderate male?”

“Oh, fresh out, I’m afraid,” I replied, and I saw the trace of a smile forming on her lips, striking hope into my heart.

“How about a hot mess? Got one of those for me?”

I grinned, unable to stop myself. “Always, for you,” I replied, and she laughed, practically throwing herself on top of me. I spread my arms, catching her, relieved beyond words just to hold her. I smoothed my hand over her hair, keeping her close.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered into her ear, and she snuggled closer.

“You’d better be, you jerk,” she whispered back, and my smile grew even larger.

“I missed you,” I said, nuzzling the top of her head, and she let out a breath against my neck.

“I missed you, too,” she sighed. “Oaf,” she added.

After a while, she slowly pulled herself away and looked down at me. The sight of her lit-up silver eyes glowing with humor and adoration made it feel as if I was floating. When she looked at me like that, it made everything fade away until only the two of us remained.

I felt myself softening, and finally, that small voice that had been in the back of my mind the past week roared to the forefront, reminding me that Violet had gone through hell to save me. She wouldn’t do that unless she cared. And I had chased her off.

I felt guilty all over again, and I started to look away when she grabbed my jaw. “Nuh-uh,” she said, shaking her head. “You owe me an explanation. So talk—what was with the dismissal?”

I hesitated. I had been carefully planning what I was going to say during our week apart, but now, looking at her, I wasn’t sure I could find the right words, and I was afraid that if I didn’t, it would chase her off again.

I felt her hand slide into mine and squeeze gently. “Vi… I just felt like… I couldn’t keep up with you. I felt weak and… impotent. It made me worry about the future and my part in yours. I didn’t like the idea that I was holding you back. If we were on the run… the only thing I could possibly do to keep you safe is catch a bullet for you.”

She frowned, squeezing my hand tighter. “You big dumb idiot,” she said, shaking her head. “You’re always worried about what you can give to me, or how you can help me… but it doesn’t work like that: We’re a team, and sometimes you need help just as much as I do. So keep your Patrian-indoctrinated testosterone out of our relationship, please and thank you.”

I laughed in surprise at her words, and then pulled her back in for a hug, one that, I was pleased to note, she returned.

When we broke apart again, Violet managed to look happy and sad at the same time. Reaching out, I touched her face. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

I listened as she explained what had gone down with her brother, and how he had opted to return to his cell. I recalled his words earlier today, and frowned.

“Violet, how many boys are there?” I asked.

“Over a thousand. There are fifty-five rows, each row containing twenty-six cells.”

I did the math in my head and gaped at her. “Each one has a boy?”

Her eyes drifted to the blanket, her mouth twisting downward. “No. Some of the boys… they died in their cells. Most from self-inflicted wounds, but a few starved themselves. I guess… I guess their suffering was too much for them to handle.” I grimaced at the news, my heart contracting.

“That’s why I took the Benuxupane to Desmond this morning,” she added after a minute. “I didn’t think about it until today, but maybe it could help them contain these volatile reactions.”

I listened intently, but the idea of drugging them seemed wrong to me. These were boys taken at a young age and told there was something wrong with them, and then subjugated to experimentation on their DNA. They didn’t need more experimental drugs… they needed discipline and camaraderie. They needed each other, and people to teach them.

“You’re thinking of something clever, aren’t you?” she said, studying my face intensely, her words more of a statement then a question.

“I… I don’t think giving the boys medication is the right solution,” I said.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… medication isn’t really what they ultimately need. What they need is discipline, and the opportunity to learn how to socialize again.”

Violet’s eyes drifted upward, apparently in deep thought as she processed my words. I waited patiently for her response. “What are you proposing?” she asked finally.

“These boys are cooped up. They have been for a long time. In a cell, barely big enough to even exercise in. Children naturally have more energy than adults, and when they are unable to vent it, they start to throw tantrums or get upset. What happens after that, though? They still have energy, with no way to expend it.”

Violet nodded slowly, and I pressed on. “We’ve got to get the boys out of their cells and into mandatory exercise. Break them down—not like they have been before, but in a way that gives them a goal. A collective goal. Have the ones who are more stable help the ones who aren’t. Help them rely on each other—after all, only they know what they’re going through—we don’t. We don’t even have the words to help them, but if we can get them to start helping each other…” I trailed off, and Violet picked up the thread, excitement heavy in her voice.

“Then they will start to improve!”

I shrugged. “It’s worth a try.”

“I think it’s a lot more than that. I know that when I was in martial arts