The Gender Game 2 by Bella Forrest (audio ebook reader .TXT) 📕

I tried to remember other blows, but I could only recall that woman punching me once. Yet that one punch had come close to fracturing my jaw, if the bruising was any indication.

How could she hit that hard?

Better yet, how had only two women broken down the door? When I had turned around to confront them, the corner of the door had been pulled back, and there were only two women there. There could have been more people in the stairwell, but I didn’t hear or see anything to indicate that.

The women had also been identical. It wasn’t strange in itself, but the way they had carried themselves—they were important somehow. They were definitely operatives for Matrus, that much was sure. I wondered if Ms. Dale knew that another team had been sent out after her.

I hoped Violet was okay. I remembered my quip about her coming to my rescue, but suddenly I wanted her to do anything but that. I was in trouble here, and if she came after me, then she would likely get caught too.

I shifted in my seat, and I could hear the clinking of metal on metal. It took me a minute, but I realized I was cuffed to the chair by my hands and feet—one pair of cuffs around my wrists, one around my ankles, and even one extendable pair around my knees. I leaned my head back, so that I was staring at the ceiling, and sighed, running through my options.

Escape. That was what I needed to do. Before Violet had a chance to get herself caught. It was the only way to keep her from harm. They would likely be aware that I was awake now, which meant interrogation was coming.

So, first order of business was to get out of this chair. I straightened up, and flexed my arms from where they were bound behind my back. They had slipped the cuffs through the rungs in the back of the chair, but the chair was metal, and likely weaker than the cuffs were. If I could get enough leverage, I could be able to bend or even break the chair.

Taking a deep breath, I began to pull my hands back, the chain between the cuffs growing tight. This angle was terrible for it—I couldn’t get leverage—but I pulled anyway, bringing my shoulder blades together to pull. After about a minute, my arms began to shake from the strain, and I had to relax them.

Just then, the door began to open. I rotated my shoulders and placed a bored look on my face. The door swung open, and Ms. Dale stepped in.

She was fully clothed—likely in borrowed clothes, like Violet and me—and her arm was in a sling. There were dark shadows under her eyes, like she hadn’t slept in a while, and her face was in that same neutral position that I had come to expect from her.

We stared at each other for a few seconds, and then I chuckled. She arched an eyebrow at me.

“Sorry,” I said. “I just feel like you should be saying something like ‘the tables are turned now,’ or something sinister like that.”

Her face remained neutral. “Are you thirsty?”

I pondered the question for a moment. I was thirsty, but this was a power play—if I said yes, I was acknowledging that I was under her control. If I said no, I was stubborn. Remaining silent was no better either.

“Maybe,” I hedged, shifting in my seat. “What did you bring?”

She looked down her nose at me condescendingly. “Water, of course.”

I made a face. “Water? No, thank you.”

Shrugging, she moved over to the table, setting down the cup and water pitcher that she had been holding. Leaning her hip on the table, she studied me.

“How’s your face?” she asked.

It was my turn to shrug. “It’ll heal.”

“It doesn’t look good.”

I laughed. I didn’t mean to, but I did. “Ms. Dale, I appreciate your concern, but this is nothing. You should’ve seen me after my fight with Langston Humphreys. The man had fists like brick walls. Granted, I knocked him out after a minute, but he got in a few good punches.”

“Yes. I’ve read all about your extracurricular activities,” Ms. Dale said, settling back on the table. “You are quite an aggressive specimen of a Patrian male.”

I exhaled, a flash of irritation coming over me. She made me sound like a dog when she spoke like that. “What do you want, Melissa?” I said, using her first name intentionally.

“Violet.”

“Well, that’s too bad. I don’t know where she is.”

Ms. Dale looked over at the mirrored glass for a second and then back to me. “You’re really quite impressive, you know that?”

I leaned back in my chair, recognizing what she was doing. I clenched my jaw, determined to remain silent. I was not going to rise to her bait like she did with mine.

“I mean it. I’m not talking about your physical prowess, but rather your intellect. You’re observant and have keen deductive reasoning skills. You picked up cues from me that even the most talented interrogator would have overlooked.”

I shrugged, waiting for the other shoe to drop. She studied me for a long moment, her brown eyes flicking over me as if I were some puzzle she was trying to solve.

“They’re going to kill you, Viggo,” she said softly.

“Who?” I asked.

“The twins. Please believe me when I say that I didn’t know that they were going to be sent out to retrieve Violet.”

“What does it matter if they sent out another team?”

Ms. Dale’s face tightened in a way that was uniquely her, and I straightened up, my mind filtering through the possibilities.

“You’re afraid of them,” I said, my eyes widening. She didn’t respond, but I could see the truth there.

A long silence stretched out between us. She sat on the table, staring at her hands. Her face and eyes revealed nothing, but I could sense a struggle within her. I remained quiet,