The Gender War (The Gender Game #4) by Bella Forrest (the beginning after the end read novel .TXT) 📕

at the boys’ enthusiasm. I was glad to see they didn’t look too shell-shocked by their narrow escape from the wardens at the dock. Or at our narrow escape from the castle, at that. As they pulled the rope taut, though, I began to have my doubts about this method of boarding.

Jay went back to the boat first, and he made it look easy. He simply leapt, caught the rope, and swung across easily, hand over hand, until he could grab the boat’s railings and hoist himself up pull-up style. He wasn’t even fully grown, and his casual strength continued to amaze me. I allowed myself a moment of jealousy. Only one.

If I had that kind of strength, I could just carry Violet across in one arm… I looked at the gray-eyed girl beside me, worried she would overtax her injury. “Violet, can you—”

“I got it,” she said, cutting me off, her eyes hard and focused. I kept the doubt off my face, knowing she was determined.

“All right,” I said, taking a step back.

She carefully swung her right arm around the rope, hooking it with her elbow. With a grunt, she lifted her legs off the ground, wrapped them around the rope, and began edging across, her left hand pulling her body forward while she hung upside-down over the water.

It took her a few minutes—I watched with my heart in my throat, half afraid she was going to plummet into the contaminated waters below. But she made it. Of course she did. As I watched Tim throw his arms around Violet, his relief strong enough to put aside the pain he felt when he was touched, I felt doubly relieved that nothing had happened to any of them.

Ms. Dale was next across the rope, and I couldn’t help but give her a grand, sweeping bow as she went past me. “Ladies first,” I said graciously.

Her lips thinned as she gave me a look of disdain. “Don’t be an ass,” she chided as she swung up on the rope, crossing over quickly. Owen moved up next to me as we watched her scuttle across, extremely limber for a woman in her middle years.

“I don’t get it—why do you two talk to each other like that?” he asked, his voice curious and light.

I glanced at him, and then clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll tell you when you’re older,” I said, before hoisting myself up on the rope. I hesitated, and then went the way Jay had gone, using my hands only. I knew that I still wasn’t as strong as I used to be, but I still had my pride. My hands felt steady, but the sway of the rope and the sight of the gurgling waters beneath me were unnerving, and I was glad to finally catch a leg over the railing and swing myself aboard.

Finally it was Owen’s turn, and he hoisted himself up, the bag of weapons swinging ominously over the water.

“If you drop that,” Ms. Dale called from the railing, watching him closely, “I will cut the rope.”

Owen made a sound of exasperation as he struggled to get to the boat. “You know, I get it,” he called, huffing and puffing as he pulled himself across. “You guys are—mad at me for following Desmond’s orders. But—oof—none of you knew about Desmond’s betrayal either. So if you would just—cut me some slack, that’d be great.”

“I’m sorry—you want us to cut what?” Violet shot back, and I smiled, happy to see that she hadn’t lost any of her spunk in that torture room.

Owen gave her an alarmed look, which was comical, considering he was swinging upside down, and then shook his head. “I’ve changed my mind,” he said as he pulled himself closer. “Is it too late to go back to Desmond?”

“Only if you’re super eager for a bullet in the back of your head,” Violet called out sweetly.

Owen grunted, reached out for the railing, and carefully pulled himself onto the boat, heaving from the exertion. “I’m good,” he deadpanned, and Violet beamed at him in approval. He heaved the weapons onto one of the built-in benches in the bow.

“Quit your yammering and cut the line,” Alejandro ordered gruffly, and I could sense my old friend’s displeasure at how long this was taking.

Ms. Dale pulled a knife out of her belt and obeyed, and I heard the boat’s powerful engine growl into a higher gear as Alejandro began moving us away from the bank. I went over to the older man, noting the steely-eyed way he was glaring at the river, and how his knuckles were practically white on the helm of the boat.

“You okay?” I asked, and he gave me a sharp look.

“Am I okay?” he repeated, looking me up and down. “Boy, I was downright worried about you. Then I get a message from that one over there”—he shoved a finger at Owen—“telling me I had to move the boat—I thought you were going to stop him from killing the queen! I didn’t know what to think! It was damned lucky he was begging me to believe him. Otherwise I would’ve stayed in that harbor, and we’d all have been sunk!”

“I’m sorry,” I said, and then hesitated. I wasn’t sure what I was sorry for—circumstances had been well beyond my control, and I’d done the best I could.

He gave me a look and shook his head, echoing my thoughts. “Nah, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for. So, what’s going on?”

“It’s a long story… but basically, Elena was behind everything. And I do mean everything—even before Violet and I were involved.”

He frowned, his wrinkled face growing more worried. “But I thought—”

“We all did. But all that matters is that we have to get to Patrus. They’re going after King Maxen.”

Alejandro looked at me, and then at Owen, who was fiddling with his handheld near the cabin; Ms. Dale, who seemed to be checking her bag of weapons; the boys, who had been roaming the deck shouting about