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

first two cancellations at face value—one time there was an op that ran into a problem during a mission, and Desmond needed to be there to problem solve. The second time, there was a food shortage due to a waylaid shipment that required her undivided attention.

But when they had started to stack up, I sat down with Viggo and suggested that we were being pushed back intentionally. Viggo had urged patience, and I had agreed, but now, with this latest cancellation, I was angry.

I threw open the door to our room and slammed it shut behind me. Viggo, who was lying on the floor looking at some files glanced up at me, his brows rising.

“Desmond?” he asked archly and I let out a breath of air, nodding tightly.

Viggo leaned forward. “What do you want to do?” he asked.

“Tie her up and force her to listen to us?” I deadpanned.

“Aggressive problem solving,” he said. “I like it.”

I groaned and tossed myself into our nest behind him. “I just don’t get it! She can’t know what we want to talk about, so why is she putting us off?”

I turned my gaze over to Viggo, who was frowning thoughtfully. “Are we sure she doesn’t know what we want to talk about?”

“Hm,” I murmured. Was it possible that Desmond somehow knew that we were opposed to her plan? If so… why was she just leaving us alone? Why would she just leave us hung out to dry, forgotten about, but still within her group? It seemed… impractical.

“I have no idea,” I said, “but I guess it’s possible. I’m still not sure why she wouldn’t act on the knowledge, if she has it.”

Viggo was silent for a long moment. “Maybe… she can’t. We’ve kind of insinuated ourselves in here. You’ve got a rep for being a solid field agent, and I’ve sort of made myself indispensable with the work I’m doing with the boys.”

I nodded before climbing back to my feet. “I gotta go,” I told him, shoving my hands in my pockets. “I promised Tim I’d go spend some time with him.”

“Want me to come?”

I smiled and shook my head. “Nope. Strictly sibling time. Besides, you get him for much longer than I do.”

Viggo’s face fell and I immediately regretted my choice of words. I meant it as a joke, but clearly Viggo thought I was serious.

“Whoa,” I said, holding up my hands. “It was a joke. Seriously… I love all the time you spend with him. Besides, I don’t want you to be accused of favoritism,” I added, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. “Even though I know he is your favorite.”

“He really is my favorite,” he said, before cracking a smile at me.

“Smart man,” I said as I exited the room.

The sound of his chuckle filled the hallway behind me, and I smirked. Despite the frustration I was feeling with Desmond, Viggo had a way of making it all better. It put a little spring in my step as I headed downstairs.

As I approached Tim’s cell, I was struck with another moment of happiness to see that the ramp was extended and locked in place, the door wide open. The boys in Viggo’s training program were given limited freedoms, but this one was a big one that Viggo had pressed for. It demonstrated his and the Liberators’ trust in them.

I felt another surge of pride toward Viggo as I walked up the catwalk. He was so good at coming up with plans and executing them. Not to mention, he knew when to be strict and when to grant freedom. I was constantly amazed by his thoughtful nature, and his ability to build something from nothing.

I swung through the door, knocking gently on the interior concrete. Tim was already inside, kneeling down and rubbing Samuel’s belly. The brown dog writhed in ecstasy, his tail making a whump whump sound against the floor. Tim was so focused on giving attention to the dog, that he failed to notice me for several seconds.

When he did, however, I felt my heart constrict at the smile that broke out across his face. The transformation couldn’t have been more significant in my eyes. Gone were the wary shadows that turned his light gray irises dark. Even his posture had changed—he no longer slouched when he stood—now his back was straight, his shoulders squared. There was a quiet sense of confidence in him that hadn’t existed until several days ago.

“Violet… Late,” he said, after taking a moment to scrutinize his watch.

“Sorry, kiddo—I had to chat with Viggo for a few minutes.”

He nodded politely. “Viggo... He’s a… good person.”

I smiled and nodded, seeing that Viggo’s conversation class still needed a little work. “I think so, too, but I’m really glad you like him.”

Tim nodded again, and I opened my arms to him. Hugging… was hard for my brother, so I was never offended when he declined. However, I must have caught him on a good day, because he smiled broadly, making me ache in all the best ways.

He stepped into the circle of my arms and wrapped his arms around me, giving me a hug so hard that it forced me to laugh as he picked me up and spun me around in a circle. Just as quickly as it started, he dropped me, and took a step back. There was a slight strain in his face, but the smile remained.

“I am so proud of you,” I stated, and he blushed. I knew that touching things was painful for him, but the fact that he was willing to set aside the pain for something as simple as a hug… So different he was from the boy I had rescued from the cell.

I sat cross-legged on the floor, and he followed suit. “I can really see the difference,” I said, reaching over to unravel a curl on his forehead.

He pulled away with a small laugh. “I’m not … a child, Vi,” he reminded me, humor laced in his voice.

I