The Gender Lie

by Bella Forrest

  Owen and Desmond nodded in agreement, but I frowned. That seemed like a pretty big scenario to overlook. I mean… I knew that the facility was buried in The Green, but surely they had considered the possibility of a human incursion on their base. Or that maybe one day the boys would break free.

  “We just need to be thankful for the lack of Matrian foresight,” Desmond said. “In my day, we would have rigged that thing to be unstoppable. Clearly my successors aren’t nearly as thoughtful as I am… Thomas,” she went on. “I want you to dig through the blueprints and find every explosive location in the base, then send me a report on how to safely remove them. I want this place free of any advantage to them that would do us harm.”

  “I’m already on it, Des. I’ll have it for you in three hours or less.”

  “Good,” she replied, before hanging up.

  Then she turned her attention back to Owen and me. Standing up, she inclined her head toward us. “I’ll let you both know what Thomas finds, if you want to be part of the team that helps do the disconnecting. I’d understand if you didn’t want to, however—you did just save us, after all. That entitles you to a little—”

  “Won’t be necessary,” interrupted Owen, who had straightened to his full height. “It doesn’t merit us to anything.”

  Desmond shot Owen a winning smile and nodded. “All right then. I’ll send a runner for you when Thomas gets the report to me.”

  Owen nodded and turned at her clear dismissal, while Desmond went to sit behind the desk, her hands scrolling through various files on her handheld. Owen stopped at the door when he realized I wasn’t following.

  “Violet,” he hissed, and I met his gaze.

  “I need to have a chat with Desmond,” I announced, causing Desmond to glance up at me.

  “Owen, it’s all right,” she said. “I’ve… I’ve been putting this chat off. I’ll see you later.”

  Owen gave us both a dubious look, but acquiesced, drawing the door closed behind him. I turned and stared down at Desmond whose mouth was drawn tight.

  “I already know what you want to talk about, Violet, and I am sorry for putting you off, but—”

  “How could you,” I said through clenched teeth, cutting Desmond off.

  She froze, her mouth still open to speak, and then leaned back in her chair, giving me a stern look.

  “I made the decision because it was the right one to make,” she said.

  “We were right here in this office when you agreed—”

  “We discussed it, Violet, and I told you I agreed with you in principle,” Desmond snapped. I shot her a contemptuous look and she tossed the pen in her hand on the desk with a clatter. “I’m sorry you disagree, but the truth is that if this is the enemy’s weapon, then we have to utilize it or be destroyed. It is an arms race, albeit a genetic one, and we are losing.”

  “But Solomon –”

  “Solomon knew what he was doing. He knew the risks and he did it anyway. Let me ask you this—if your roles had been reversed, if you knew your partner on a mission was about to rush headlong and needlessly into death, would you try to stop him?”

  “Of course I would, but that doesn’t mean I’d need some super pill to do it!”

  She shot me an acerbic look and shook her head. “Now you’re just being stubborn. Let’s imagine it’s your young Mr. Croft. Only he isn’t about to do something stupid—he’s been hurt. He’s got nearly fifty pounds of pure muscle on you—all dead weight—and the enemy is closing in. The only options are to take a pill that might drive you insane, leave him behind, or both get caught and executed. Would you do it for him?”

  “Of course I would, but that doesn’t mean—”

  “Oh, I am quite positive he wouldn’t like it, Ms. Bates. I am also quite certain he would resent it. But that doesn’t change the fact that you would still do it. So while you’re standing there preaching to me about what we can and cannot do, I would remind you of three things. The first is—you are no better than us. We do what we have to, to survive. The second is that you aren’t part of this group. Your hesitancy to join has painted a very clear picture that as soon as your Mr. Croft is better, you will be leaving. But the last is this—I have offered you shelter, medical supplies, food… everything you need and then some. And asked for nothing in return—save the possibility of you joining a group devoted to destroying the very thing you are on the run from—and that still hasn’t been enough to afford your respect. As far as I’m concerned, you are ungrateful, rude, and manipulative, and while I appreciate what you did today, it certainly doesn’t merit this level of scrutiny and condescension.”

  I found myself speechless in the face of her passionately delivered put-down, unable to find a response to what she was saying. My anger had gradually diminished as she was talking, the wind from my argument evaporating.

  Desmond leaned forward and snatched up her handheld, then swiveled her chair around, presenting me with her back in a clear and obvious dismissal.

  Silently, I left, closing the door behind me with a definitive click. Resting my back against the door, I felt a surge of worry. I had just majorly pissed off Desmond, and what unnerved me even more was the deep dark blossoming of an idea that Desmond might have been right. About everything.

  19

  Viggo

  I was deep in thought when Violet finally returned, nearly an hour and a half after she had left. She had changed clothes, and her skin was pink and her hair damp, like she had just taken a shower.

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured as she entered. She came to sit down on the edge of the bed. Her demeanor was different than before. She looked serious and distracted.

  “What happened?” I asked, my attention turning away from my own problems and devoting itself to her.

  She gave a slow blink, and then dragged her gaze back over to mine. “Do you think I’m rude? Or ungrateful?”

  I frowned, unable to follow her. “No, why would you ask that?”

  Violet brought her legs up and stretched out next to me, being careful not to pull on any of the leads or jostle me in any way. I made room for her anyway, shifting on the bed to give her more space. She shot me a grateful glance, and I became aware of how tired she looked.

  I adjusted the pillow so that both of us could rest our heads on it, and then lay back down, my muscles trembling from the exhaustion that simple sequence of movements cost me.

  She reached for my hand and threaded her fingers through mine.

  “Vi… talk to me. What’s wrong?”

  A smile formed on her lips. “I’m… just really happy you’re awake,” she said. Untangling my fingers from hers, I cupped her cheek.

  “Me too—although I am less than pleased with Dr. Tierney’s medical advice.”

  “What’d she say?” Violet asked, stroking my knuckles with her thumb.

  I sighed. I gently pulled my hand from hers and shifted my weight to the back of my hip, turning my head to the ceiling. “That it’s going to take four to six weeks to recover my strength. Minimum.”

  The words came out frostier than I intended them to, but I was exceptionally frustrated by the situation. I had only been down for twenty-odd days… and now it was going to take just as many or more to recover.

  I still had no idea who these people were and where they came from—Violet had left before she could tell me. It was clear she was working with them, but was it all a ruse, or had she joined their cause?

  The questions swirling in my head weren’t just directed at the people who were here or the situation we were in. They were also directed at myself, and had started building since the moment Dr. Tierney announced how long it would take to get my full strength back—if I could get it back in the first place.

  The could sent a burst of anger through me. I had been in my prime, capable of holding my own in a fight with someone who had super strength when I was wounded. Now what was I? A crippled ex-fighter who could only slow Violet down?

  It disturbe
d me to no end knowing that whatever this situation was, Violet was facing it without me. Would that be our future—her racing off to some other adventure and leaving me behind?

  The logical part of my mind reasoned with me. It reminded me that Violet hadn’t left yet, and, gauging from her earlier quips about saving my life and securing a surgical instrument, she had actively gone out of her way to save me.

  Suddenly, I was bone-weary exhausted. I rolled back toward Violet, who was looking at me in concern. Swallowing, I shook my head.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I urged, not wanting to disturb her with my own broken ego. What I was going through was my problem, not hers.

  Trust is a powerful thing, I realized as I watched her concern morph away, replaced completely with a warm contentment. She didn’t dig any deeper, just trusted my judgement that she didn’t have to worry.

  It made me feel even worse than before, like I was lying to her. Even though I wasn’t—not really. Getting back on my feet and into fighting form was my responsibility. I just had to put in the work. And once I was back on my feet, I would feel better. Once I was able to keep up with her again, it would all work out.

  I forced a smile and settled my hand on her shoulder. “So how was your day, dear?” I asked, making my voice light and teasing.

  She smirked at my comment, which sent another guilty feeling through me as she began to recount the events that took place after I’d been shot. I listened as intently as I could, but soon, my eyelids became heavier and heavier, and sleep reclaimed me.

  Several hours later, my eyelids fluttered open as the bed dipped and moved, jostling me. Opening my eyes, I saw Violet standing up, stretching silently.

  “Wha—?” I asked, groggy and confused.

  “You drifted off,” she whispered. “I napped with you for a while, but I’m late meeting Tim. I’m taking him to the cafeteria for dinner.”

  I tried to clear the cobwebs from my head. “Do you want me to come with you?” I asked, trying to force myself into a sitting position. Every limb in my body still felt like it was asleep, even my brain. It was hard understanding what was being said, and it took my mind even longer to formulate a response.

  Violet chuckled as she shook her head. “Viggo, you can barely keep your eyes open,” she whispered. “Besides, walking down several flights of stairs is going against doctor’s orders. You’ve got to build up to it. I promise I’ll bring Tim to you tomorrow.”

  “No,” I said, my mind revolting at the thought. Violet stepped back, cocking her head at me, and I realized my response had been given more vehemently than I’d wanted. “Sorry,” I said sheepishly. “I just… don’t want to meet the only male of your family before I can stand on my own two legs without help. You know… like a man.”

  Violet’s eyes narrowed and she frowned. “That’s a little… misogynistic.”

  I clenched my teeth in frustration. “That’s not what I meant. I just… I want to be upright, you know?”

  “I… can understand that,” she said, but the reluctant quality of her tone told me that she was just placating me. Irritated, I leaned back into the pillow, debating whether it was worth it to try to explain. I ultimately dismissed the idea, reminding myself once again: it wasn’t her burden to bear.

  “You’re right. I’m being dumb. Of course I would love to meet your brother.”

  The confused look in her eyes softened to a mask of empathy. “No, you’re right. I was… reading too much into the comment. I don’t actually know what you’re going through, but I can respect your wish to meet Tim on your own two feet. And… I just want you to know, you aren’t going through this alone. I’m going to be with you every step of the way.”

  I really wasn’t sure that I wanted Violet in the room with me while I was going through the physical therapy, seeing me struggle just to stand upright. But as I looked into her shimmering gray eyes, I couldn’t muster up the words to ask her not to come. She looked so hopeful, so bright, so… optimistic.

  “That’d be great,” I rasped.

  She beamed at me and then stooped over, planting a kiss on my forehead. “Okay, well… I’ll see you tomorrow. The doc said you’ll probably sleep through the night. Unless… do you want me to come back after dinner?”

  I shook my head and feigned a yawn. “No. She’s probably right. Enjoy your dinner with your brother, okay?”

  Violet smiled again, and then let herself out, giving me a little wave as she closed the door. I held up my own hand, and then dropped it after I heard her footsteps disappear down the hall.

  Sliding my hands down my face, I sank back down in the mattress and listened to the steady beeps coming from the machine connected to my heart. It would be hours before I’d sleep again.

  20

  Viggo

  The next day, Dr. Tierney arrived early in the morning—her attitude too chipper for me to do anything other than groan and demand coffee. With her were two people I had never seen before, one teenage boy, probably fifteen or sixteen, and a rounder middle-aged woman with a stern face and no-nonsense attitude.

  Between the three of them, they carried several metal poles—two apiece, at various lengths. I sipped the water that Dr. Tierney handed me in lieu of coffee and watched the two strangers as they began joining the poles together by screwing one end into the other.

  The boy on the floor kept shooting furtive glances at me, but I ignored them, drinking my water as if I didn’t have a care in the world. After a few minutes, it became clear that what they were building was intended for me—as they wound long bits of fabric around the two long bars on the top.

  They bolted the bottom ones to the floor, and then gave them a few tentative shakes before the younger boy grabbed the bars and lifted his feet off the floor, testing them under his weight. He dropped back down and gave a satisfied nod to the older woman, who ruffled his hair before shooing him out of the room.

  He laughed, scampering toward the door, where he slammed into Violet as she stepped into the room. She made a sound as his shoulder connected with her, tossing her arms up to stabilize herself. There came a wet splashing sound, and I detected a familiar bitter smell.

  Sitting up, I saw most of the coffee in the mug she was carrying had splashed against the doorframe and in the hall behind her, but some of it was dripping from her face as she stared at the youngster in annoyance.

  “Quinn!” she snapped, sweeping the remains of the coffee from her face.

  The boy cringed. “Sorry, Violet.”

  She thrust the now empty mug against his chest. “Please see if you can track down some more coffee,” she said. She reached over and grabbed a fresh towel from the table next to her, running it over her face and hands.

  “Violet,” Quinn started to say, but she silenced him with a gaze, her lips drawing tight.

  He sighed, his shoulders slumping. The older woman behind him who had been watching the scene unfold marched up to him and clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ve actually got a wee bit tucked away somewhere,” she said. “I’d be more than happy to brew up some more.”

  Violet’s expression warmed as she looked at the older woman. “Thank you, Meera… Any news on Solomon?”

  The woman shook her head and swallowed. “No change. No sign.”

  Violet’s face fell to one of sympathy, but I also detected a flash of guilt. “Just… let me know, okay?”

  Meera nodded, wrapping her arm around Quinn. “I will,” she promised as she pulled the lad outside.

  Violet watched them go, and then turned back to me with a smile. “Hey you,” she said, her voice soft.

  I smiled back. “You brought me coffee?”

  She chuckled. “Tried to.”

  “I appreciate it. Any chance there’s any still on your face?”

  She walked up and leaned over me. “Care to check?” she asked.

  I grinned, sliding my hand around the back of her neck before pulling her down to meet my lips. There was no coffee left on her,
but her lips alone were a better tonic than any cup of coffee. I immediately found myself feeling more aware—although it was only of her.

  We broke the kiss after a few seconds, and she sat down on the bed next to me. “Doctor Tierney said they’re going to start your physical therapy today. It’s why I brought you the coffee. I figured you might want a pick-me-up.”

  “Ms. Bates, coffee is not recommended for Mr. Croft at this time—we need to give the scar tissue on his heart some time to heal before we start artificially stimulating it with caffeine,” commented Dr. Tierney from the other side of the room.

  Violet sighed and this time I laughed, causing her to smile.

  “So, what are you going to do today?” I asked casually.

  Violet straightened her back with a considering look. “Well, I kept my morning open so I could be here with you for this. I’m going to have lunch with Tim—I’m working with him to try to get him comfortable around larger groups of people. After that… you… some gardening… then you… maybe some cleaning… then you… and then dinner, shower, and bed—with some more you scheduled somewhere in the middle of those last three items.”

  I kept my face neutral, but as she described her plan I felt guilty again. She was devoting all of this time to me instead of doing whatever she wanted to do, or spending more time with her brother. It wasn’t fair to her, but I didn’t know how to tell her without making it seem like I was trying to get rid of her.

  I wanted her to come visit me… but the thought of her watching and shouting encouragements while we did whatever pathetic exercises that Dr. Tierney was about to run me through didn’t fill me with a sense of confidence. It made me feel insecure.

  Violet cocked her head at me. “You okay?”

  I nodded, plastering a smile on my face. “I’m okay. I’m just worried that there might be more important things you need to be doing, and I’m keeping you from them.”

  Violet leaned closer. “Nothing’s more important than being here for you, and helping you get better,” she declared, giving me another kiss.