The Gender Game 2 by Bella Forrest (positive books to read txt) 📗

hard from behind, and I collapsed on the floor, my vision blurring and going gray. I blinked, trying to clear my vision, when I felt something press over my mouth and nose. A strange chemical smell filled my nostrils as I inhaled.

Viggo’s pale face, spattered with blood, filled my mind, and I struggled to fight off the drowsiness that was overwhelming me.

And then the darkness was dragging me down.

39

Violet

I woke up with a start, my mind suddenly aware. Adrenaline spiked my system and I sat up, looking around.

I was in one of the bedrooms on the second level. The room was dark, but there was a yellow light trickling in from under the door.

Ripping off the blanket, I stood up. I was wearing a light white dress that came to my knees. It was too big in the shoulders and a bit snug on the hips, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.

Something shifted on the bed, and I jumped back. There was a gentle whine, and a thumping sound. I backed up slowly, and pushed on the bathroom door, swinging it open and letting the light illuminate the room.

Samuel whined again from where he was laying on the bedspread. His tail was thumping as he looked at me. I stared at him, wondering how the hell he had gotten here.

It took me nearly a minute to remember how I had gotten here. Once I did, I raced over to the door, my hand twisting the knob. I needed to find Viggo and Tim.

Samuel barked and leapt off the bed. I pulled at the door, but it was locked. Beating my fists on it, I shouted, hoping that whoever had attacked me hadn’t locked me in the room and left me to die.

I tried to think about who it could be as I attempted to force the door open. I realized that whoever it was wanted me alive, not dead. They had locked me in the room, but they hadn’t chained me up. In fact, gauging from the bandages I was now feeling wrapped around my ribs, they had patched me up.

It didn’t matter—I needed to find Viggo and Tim. I hit my fist on the door for several minutes, shouting for someone to open it, but no one came. After a while, I tried using things I found in the room to hit the lock with, to no avail.

Eventually, I gave up, and began examining the door closely. The hinges of the door were on this side. If I could find something slim enough, I might be able to unscrew them from the door.

I tore the room apart looking. Samuel watched me, whining softly for attention. I emptied drawers onto the bed, tossing aside clothes and pens and notebooks, growing more and more frustrated as I did.

I tested every surface in the room, seeing if I could peel something off to use on the screws. Eventually, I tried going after them with my nails. The only progress I made from that was a few hangnails.

Defeated, I sat down heavily on the floor, resting my back against the door.

Samuel peeked out from under the bed, staring at me with his warm brown eyes.

“Hey buddy,” I murmured, patting my thigh. He crawled over on his belly, his ears lowered. I held out my hand to him and, after a moment of hesitation, he licked it. He then proceeded to try and crawl into my lap.

I patted him on the head, and sighed.

“It’s always one thing after another,” I told him. His tail picked up speed, thumping on the floor. “Why, just once, can’t things go my way?”

He stared at me in response, and I leaned my head back, resting it on the door. Samuel rested his head on my thigh. I felt the cold press of the metal from the buckle of his collar digging in uncomfortably, and I took a moment to twist it around his neck.

Then I froze. Looking at his collar, I clenched my fist in frustration over how I had overlooked it. It took me a second to unhook it and rising to my feet, I started at the top screw. I had to fiddle with it for a few moments, trying to find the best way to fit the buckle into the slot, but after a few trials, I managed to position it just right.

I began twisting the buckle. It was painstakingly slow, and more often than not it slipped out of the screw. However, finally the screw began to loosen under my efforts. I twisted until I could get my fingers on it, and then used them to unscrew it.

I had just pried the second one out, when I heard the doorknob rattle. Surprised, I took quick step back, just missing the door as it swung open.

A young man was on the other side. He was just a few inches taller than me, with blond hair and bright blue eyes. He was wearing a black uniform with no insignia anywhere on it. The uniform was skin-tight, clinging to the bulging muscles of his arms and legs. His expression was carefully neutral.

“Violet,” he greeted me.

“How do you… Where are Tim and Viggo?”

The man stared at me. “I’m not at liberty to discuss that at this time.”

I grated my teeth together, my fists clenched. “You better get liberated real soon,” I threatened.

Smirking as if I amused him, he crossed his arms. “I can tell you that your brother and boyfriend are alive.”

Relief washed through me, but I ignored it. “Who are you and what do you want?”

“Forgive me. I should have introduced myself. My name is Owen Barns, and I want to escort you down to the laboratory so that you can be debriefed.”

I absorbed his information quietly. “Are you with Matrus or Patrus?” I demanded, crossing my arms.

He quirked a blond eyebrow. “Neither,” he replied, offering his arm.

I gaped at him, staring at his arm like it was a snake about to bite me. How could he