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

“Fair enough,” Violet conceded. “Listen… I know you have your reasons for not trusting her, and I get that. Oh, believe me I do. I was hard on her, too… Granted… I kept quiet until after the mission to get your laser, but I’ve gotten under her skin a few times.”

“Really?” I asked. “Over what?”

She gave a little shrug. “Philosophical ideas, mainly. But I have to say… I kind of like her now. She’s very… reasonable? I don’t know what word to use, but she did keep her promise to help you, and that earned her some trust points in my book.”

“Do I have any trust points in your book?” I asked.

Violet narrowed her eyes.

“Barely,” she replied dryly and I chuckled, pulling her into my arms yet again.

“Did I tell you I walked today?” I whispered into her ear. She leaned back, her face glowing with pride.

“You did not,” she stated.

I nodded. “Three whole steps before my legs gave out.”

She pressed her nose to mine. “Guess that means you’ve got to make it to five steps before you earn a kiss from me,” she whispered, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.

“Oh really?” I said, widening my eyes. “Well… Challenge accepted.”

26

Violet

I sat with my knees to my chest and my arms wrapped around them, watching intently as Viggo led the group of boys in the drill. The last week and a half had been a blur of activity: Viggo had taken the time to focus solely on getting stronger and preparing his training program for the boys, and I had been with him every step of the way. Today was his first day of training, as well as his first day walking all the way down six flights of stairs. I had been concerned, but Viggo had paced himself, and we took scheduled breaks. We were actually going to be staying in one of the interrogation rooms for an indefinite period of time, until Viggo was good enough to make it up and down the stairs once a day.

I was proud of the progress he had made in the past eleven days. He didn’t complain, not once, and he was more reasonable with his expectations. But what made me the proudest was when he actually asked me to stop ahead of our scheduled break. It was a sign that his male-driven ego was taking a backseat, which made me feel closer to him than before.

I watched him as he sat in a circle with the boys, trying to engage them in conversation. He was asking them what their names were and where they were from. Some of the boys were too shy or nervous to answer, their eyes wide as they stared at the much larger male in front of them in fear and awe. Yet Viggo wasn’t dissuaded in the face of their timidity—he kept his voice calm and even. I smiled as Tim spoke up, introducing himself to everyone, eliciting an encouraging nod from Viggo. After Tim, more boys started speaking up, earning a praising smile, a proud nod, or a congratulation for their bravery.

Once they were finished, Viggo announced, “That was very good.” I was pleased to see some of the boys blushing. “My name is Viggo Croft, and I was born in Patrus. I served as a warden for King Maxen, but if I had been born in Matrus and subjected to the test, I would have failed it like you. Sometimes life isn’t fair like that, but I want to help you.”

“I’m sure you can’t help us,” declared one boy, his eyes and posture that of pure hostility. He was around thirteen or fourteen, and stout for his age. As he spoke, I was reminded that the trauma of isolation had affected the boys differently. Tim was exceptionally quiet and slow to articulate, like he had locked away a part of his mind in order to survive. There were several like him, and there were also those who had regressed so far, they were downright catatonic. And then there were boys like this one, who could speak in full, confident sentences.

Viggo looked at the boy and knitted his brows. “Why do you say that?”

The boy scowled and looked around for support, but none of the other boys offered any.

Viggo looked at the others. “Come on,” he encouraged. “You have every right to speak up if you feel the same way Cody does.”

Cody blinked in surprise as Viggo called him by name. I was impressed as well—I didn’t know if I could have remembered his name either, but then again, Viggo had spent a good chunk of his recovery time vetting candidates for the first batch of boys, so I wasn’t too surprised that he had memorized their names beforehand.

One of the other boys spoke up, shifting nervously. “The people… the Liberators said they would help us, but we’ve been waiting for a long time for them to do anything, and all they do is send strangers to try to talk to us.”

I frowned—several of the Liberators had taken it upon themselves to try to visit the boys, to remind them they weren’t alone, but I hadn’t realized that weeks of it had begun to grate on the boys.

“What makes you any different?” Cody asked Viggo loudly, and I saw several boys agree.

Viggo met Cody’s gaze steadily. “You have to decide that for yourself, Cody. But I’d like you to give me a chance. I think this might have a lot of potential to help you, if you let it. And, at the very least, you get out of your cell for a day.”

Cody looked unconvinced, but backed down. Viggo looked around the circle. “Anyone else have any concerns?”

The boys shook their heads in unison, and he smiled. “Then let’s go over the rules, shall we?”

There was a flurry of head movement around the circle, but they all seemed willing to hear him