The Gender Game by Bella Forrest (motivational novels .TXT) 📕

and pulled out a square piece of card: a ticket to the event at Brunswick Arena. There were to be four fights that evening; Viggo and his opponent, "Seamus Vanguard", were up first.

"Keep this ticket somewhere safe," Lee told me. "And don't forget to bring it with you."

I stowed it in my pocket, my focus returning to the bags. "What are they?" I asked.

"Explosives," he replied over his shoulder as he descended to the basement. Then he changed the subject. "By the way, we should leave in less than an hour."

I sensed his unease. As a Matrian male, Lee wasn't a naturally aggressive person. Less aggressive than me, I was sure. I doubted any of this came instinctively to him.

"Okay, I'll start getting ready." I dragged my feet up the stairs to Lee's room. Opening the cupboard, I pulled out all the parts of my costume and quickly slipped out of my clothes and pulled on the shirt and suit. I decided to leave the whole facial hair thing to Lee, but did make an attempt to apply my wig.

Lee arrived a few minutes later, carrying the lenses and the pills. Once he finished my cosmetic appearance—leaving my eyes feeling sore and watery again—I took the pills. After ten minutes, my voice had deepened enough to be passable as a man’s, even if a slightly effeminate one. But by the time we arrived at the Arena, it should have deepened further.

I stuffed my ticket into the jacket pocket while Lee equipped me with a pager and, of course, the all-important ball of foil. I was also sure to remove my wedding ring.

As we were about to step out of the house, Lee's phone rang.

"Hello?" Lee answered. His expression went serious. "Yes. Yes. It's going according to plan. Yes."

After a few more yeses, Lee handed the phone to me. "It's Alastair," he whispered.

Alastair? I took the phone and pressed it to my ear. “Mr. Jenks?"

"Ms. Bates?" he replied. It was strange to hear his voice again. He felt like another universe away.

"Uh, yeah. It's me. I just took some Deepvox pills."

"I see. How's everything going?"

"Okay, I think." I replied, frowning.

"How are you finding Patrus?" he asked.

How does he expect me to answer that? "Uh, not exactly pleasant.” Not that Matrus' detention centers were pleasant, either. But at least there my sense of worth wasn't constantly being affronted, and I wasn't under so much stress.

"Okay, well, I won't keep you," he said. "I'll check in with both of you again soon."

With that, he hung up. My eyes turned to Lee in confusion. "What was that about?" I asked.

"Wanted to verify for himself we're both still on the job," Lee replied. "Make sure I hadn't lost you." He opened the front door and we strode out into the night. "Anyway, I think you should start focusing now," Lee said as we donned our helmets and climbed onto his motorcycle. "Visualize what you need to accomplish tonight in your head."

Lee drove me through the tail end of rush-hour traffic to the outskirts of town—suburbs to the south that were noticeably rougher than the city or any other areas I'd passed so far. The streets were not as well cleaned, the buildings shabbier, and the men roaming around looked generally more unkempt. I was still unable to spot a single woman amidst them.

Lee parked the motorcycle in a bay on the sidewalk opposite a tall, round building, the first two floors of which were occupied by a noisy, smoky eatery. He led me across the road and around the side of the building where we stopped outside a set of open, peeling, red double doors. I poked my head through to find a stairwell leading downward.

"The arena is through there," Lee whispered. He backed up against the wall of the building and glanced nervously to the left and right. "As you can see from the ticket, we're a bit early. Not a problem, though. Just go through those doors and show your ticket."

"What time will you come to pick me up?" I asked.

"Viggo's up first and his fights rarely go past one round. Let's say… giving time for any possible delays… eleven."

"That late?"

"Well, you shouldn't just leave straight after Viggo's fight. It's considered discourteous and you might draw unwanted attention to yourself."

"Okay," I said. "Where exactly will I meet you?"

"Where I've left my motorcycle now," he replied. "I'll be hovering somewhere in that area and watching for you."

I nodded again, my palms and forehead breaking out in a sweat.

“What happens if I get caught?” I asked.

“You've just got to make sure you don't.”

Great.

Lee lingered for a minute longer, readjusting my fake hair, which had gotten disheveled after the motorcycle ride. My eyes still felt irritated, but since he didn't remark on them, I assumed they didn't look too odd. I doubted teary eyes was a great look for a Patrian man.

Drawing in a deep breath, Lee took half a step back and gave my left shoulder a reassuring squeeze, then turned and headed back to the main road. I didn't wait to watch him disappear from view. I hurried through the double doors and down the staircase. I had work to do.

The door awaiting me at the bottom was open and unguarded. Stepping inside, I found myself surrounded by an arena that was smaller than I had expected. It could probably fit about three hundred people, which wasn't exactly tiny, but not grand like I had imagined the venue of a national sport would be. Not much pride had been taken in the aesthetics either. The seats were made of garish red plastic, and the walls and ceilings were rough and unpainted, the brickwork clearly visible. But maybe this was all intentional; I supposed that it added to the atmosphere.

I turned my mind back to the conversation I had overheard with Lee's colleagues, when they had been excitedly talking about a fight that was to take place in a few days’ time. I couldn't remember