The Gender Lie (The Gender Game #3) by Bella Forrest (i have read the book a hundred times .txt) 📕

Amber wiggled out of her ropes and threw her arms around Owen’s neck. “Don’t worry about it, Owen. Let’s just get to where we need to go so I can take this monkey suit off.”

I watched the scene unfold, feeling relieved. Knowing that Owen hated doing what he did helped me feel a lot better. All the resentment that had been building up in me during our five-hour trip had receded, and I felt better knowing at the very least, the others felt as I did.

Owen shouldered his pack and turned toward me. “You okay?” he asked and I nodded.

“So, where to next?”

He studied my face for a few moments, then shot me a mischievous smile. “You’ll see.”

I suppressed a groan and followed him. He led us away from the warehouse and over a few streets. The sky was starting to darken, the traffic on the roads becoming thinner. This area clearly wasn’t a hub for nightlife—it appeared to be a series of factories for food processing and distribution.

Owen led us down an empty street and then stopped, consulting with the handheld. “All right—Solomon, get the cover.”

I had a moment of confusion, until Solomon pulled a crowbar out of his bag and knelt in the middle of the street. Already, Quinn, Owen, and Amber were facing away from him, monitoring the streets around us.

I followed suit, but then I heard a loud metal clang, loud enough to make me jump. I whirled and found Solomon straining, shoving the manhole cover off the sewer pipe leading under the street.

“We’re going down there?” I whispered, my mind recalling the dark, cramped space of the ventilation shaft from the facility where I had spent the better part of a day wiggling around, looking for a way out.

Owen looked at me over his shoulder and, seeing the hesitance in my face, smiled encouragingly. “Don’t worry—we’ve been down there dozens of times. Not too many rats, and the smell isn’t that terrible.”

I swallowed and moved over to the edge of the hole. The blackness was engulfing, the light from the moon and streetlamps barely able to penetrate. I pulled out my flashlight and then squatted down, clicking it on. There was a ladder leading down.

Placing the flashlight between my teeth, I stepped onto the ladder before I could have second thoughts.

I was down in a matter of seconds, my feet splashing as I landed in the middle of a puddle. I grimaced in disgust, and raised my hand over my mouth and nose. This place smelled awful.

“You lied to me,” I said, skittering back a few paces as Owen splashed down from above. Through the flashlight, I caught his grin.

“Sorry.”

“No, you’re not,” I accused, and he chuckled.

“You’re right. I’m not. Also… you sound really funny right now,” he said with a wink, referencing my deepened voice.

I rolled my eyes at him as Amber and Quinn dropped down next to us, and then Solomon, after some grunting and groaning as he worked the manhole cover back into place.

“Now what?” I asked.

Owen pulled something out of his bag and fitted it to his flashlight. It was a blue filter, which was weird, until he began pointing it at the wall.

“There,” Amber said, tapping on Owen’s shoulder and pointing to the left. He angled the flashlight toward it and immediately, a green arrow was illuminated, pointing down the tunnel.

“We follow the arrows,” Owen commented, in answer to my question.

Wordlessly, we all lined up in single file and followed Owen as he led the way.

The tunnels were dark and eerie, reminding me of the ventilation shafts. At least these were much roomier, so it didn’t feel quite as claustrophobic.

There was a network of tunnels under Patrus, used to send waste into the river. We had a similar system in Matrus, but supposedly ours was more efficient. I had no idea if it was true, I just knew that being down here was disgusting and I was more than looking forward to getting out.

“So, uh, how long will we be down here?” I asked.

“Who knows?” Quinn replied. “Apparently Thomas likes to move every few missions, so it can take a little while to find him.”

“Who’s Thomas?”

“Thomas is our eyes and ears inside Patrus,” answered Solomon. “He’s Patrian-born but hates the regime and what they stand for.”

“That’s interesting… why?” Everyone stilled and turned toward me, and I froze, my eyes wide. “What, too many questions?”

Owen’s chuckle carried down the tunnel, and I felt the tension of the moment drift away. “Violet, you are terrible at spy craft,” he stated.

“Why?”

“Because you ask way too many questions for your own good.”

Everyone had a laugh at that, and I flushed. If anything, I thought asking questions was the trait of a good spy. But then again, if being a spy meant having to act and play the role of somebody else, then I was never going to be good at it.

We followed Owen for the better part of an hour, the green arrows winding us around until I had no idea where we could possibly be. After a few sharp turns, the sewer opened up into a junction point, with three feet of water ending at a concrete floor.

We were standing in a pipe draining water into the pool below. Several other pipes were doing the same thing. There was a door on the far wall of the room with a single light hanging over it, bathing the room in a soft yellow glow.

Owen pointed out the camera just behind the light and clicked his flashlight off. He jumped down into the water and pushed through it toward the concrete ledge. Climbing up on the ledge with a practiced grace, he motioned for us to follow.

Amber handed me her bag and jumped in after him, grimacing at the water. “It’s cold,” she said as I lowered her bag and my own to her. She held them up high as I splashed down next to her.

I