Book Read Free

The Gender End

Page 17

by Bella Forrest

OceanofPDF.com

  18

  OceanofPDF.com

  VIGGO

  When Violet puts her mind to something, she really goes out of her way to make it a reality, I thought to myself as I tugged at the sleeves of the stiff, formal warden’s dress coat I was wearing. It wasn’t mine, obviously. I had found a storeroom filled with them, and figured they were the best formal option I was going to get in the time allotted. And there was some kind of significance to it, I supposed—given my complicated history with this uniform, maybe it was the best choice after all.

  Smoothing the lapels down until I was confident they were regulation, I sat down on the narrow bed in the small private dorm room that was in the opposite wing of the building from where Violet and the women were, and began tugging on the knee-high, perfectly polished boots that completed the uniform. The boots were a bit tight, pinching in the toes, but I could endure them for a few hours.

  The door clicked open and I looked up in time to see Owen ducking in, wearing a tight sweater and a pair of black slacks. His blue eyes widened as he realized he was the first in the room, and he hesitated, suddenly nervous.

  I stood up, a smile already on my lips. “Owen,” I said warmly, holding a hand out to him as I crossed the room. He reached up automatically, and I caught his hand and squeezed, giving him a firm shake. “Thank you for coming. It really means a lot to me.”

  “Oh, um, sure,” Owen stammered, a confused expression on his face. Confused and wary, like I was setting him up for some sort of trap.

  I hated that he felt like that, but a part of that was his own fault. He had betrayed us all in his quest to end Desmond’s life. What’s worse, he had put Violet and her brother in danger while doing so. Violet had begged for us to forgive him instead of simply exiling him from our group, so we had punished him, giving him the task of being Violet’s bodyguard. Of course, that had been an impossible task to contend with, and ultimately he had failed to stay with her and keep her out of danger. But he’d certainly proven his loyalty in the attempt.

  I could understand his nervousness. “Relax,” I told him. “It’s my wedding day, not yours.”

  He smiled—just for a second, but it was there. That old light. I opened my mouth to add something, when the door swung open again, revealing… Anello Cruz. I suppressed a very noisy and very annoyed groan, and managed to plaster a bit of a smile onto my lips as he extended his hand, the bandages and sling that swaddled the arm he’d been shot in notwithstanding. I couldn’t completely hate the guy anymore. He’d fought bravely beside us at the water treatment plant, and his quick thinking had helped us get out of more than one tight situation—but he’d never gotten less irritating.

  “Hey, Viggo, compadre! I heard about your wedding! Congratulations, my friend. Or should I say condolences, eh?”

  He pumped my hand as he spoke, and I had to refrain from yanking it back, reminding myself that Cruz was just naturally a loud-mouthed, arrogant alpha male. This was really him trying to bond with me, but it didn’t make me want to punch him any less.

  “You should say congratulations,” said Owen dryly. “And tone it down some. Viggo and Violet love each other dearly, so be happy for them or get out.”

  Cruz blinked in surprise, and then smiled, finally releasing my hand. “Hey, no offense, mi amigos. I’m just not the ‘get married’ kind—although for that doctor lady I might make an exception.” He adjusted his sling, his smile growing bigger as his expression grew a bit dazed—likely envisioning that scenario—and I seized the opportunity to get to the other side of the room, hearing him ask Owen, “So what’d I miss at the meeting?”

  Focusing on my appearance again, I gathered my long hair up behind my neck and wrapped a band around it, running a hand over the sides and top to smooth it out. Once I was finished, I ran a hand over my beard. It wasn’t too long, so it didn’t need trimming, but a part of me wondered if I should shave it off.

  “You should keep it,” said Henrik’s voice, and I looked over in the mirror to see him closing the door to the hall. He met my gaze in the mirror and gave me a rueful smile. “I wish I could say that it’s because you looked better or that Violet likes it, but really it’s because we might need to rely on disguise to get into Matrus, and the beard helps with that.”

  “That’s a good point,” I said, taking one final check in the mirror. “Anyone hear from Violet yet?”

  “No, but I recently overheard Dr. Tierney saying she was running around like a madwoman, trying to set things up,” Owen commented, moving over to the bed and sitting down on it, the springs squeaking under his weight. “Amber too.”

  “Great,” I said, fiddling with the uniform in an attempt to try to perfect it, even though it was as close to perfect as it was ever going to be.

  Henrik came over and gently pushed my hands away, his eyes taking in the uniform and then tugging a few things here and there. “It’s too bad you don’t have any insignia here,” he said as he brushed off my shoulders. “It would really complete the look.”

  “I’m glad there aren’t any,” I said quietly, and he looked up at me in surprise. “That life feels like forever ago… like part of a terrible dream I was half-stumbling through. Violet didn’t fall in love with a warden. She fell in love with me.”

  Henrik smiled gently, and nodded. “She’s a good woman, Viggo. And soon she’ll be your wife, for as long as you both shall live. I’m excited for you both to be getting this start now, instead of waiting. You both need it after everything—”

  Henrik’s continuing words of reassurance disappeared behind the strange ringing that had started in my ears when he said “for as long as you both shall live.” Softly at first, then louder and louder. Miriam’s face flashed into my mind, as unexpected an interloper as I could ever receive at this moment, and one that made me feel a stab of guilt, made my heartbeat race and my chest begin to tighten.

  I wasn’t sure how I managed it, but I somehow excused myself from Henrik and moved to the door in a daze, stepping through it and closing it behind me. In the dark hall, I paced back and forth for a moment, trying to shake out the nervous tension now brewing all along my muscles, before finally coming to a stop in front of a wall, leaning my arm against it, my forehead resting on my forearm.

  I struggled to breathe, forcing a slow breath of air past the half-seized up shuddering of my lungs and down deep into my stomach. Except even my stomach felt rigid and unyielding, too small for even the tiniest gulp of air, and I found myself fighting back an extreme urge to put my fist through something breakable.

  “Viggo?”

  Looking over without bothering to lift my head, I saw Alejandro standing behind me, holding the temporary cast protecting one hand with the other one, supporting it at the wrist.

  “Hey,” I said, trying to keep my breathing steady and failing miserably. I clenched my hand into a fist. I had to say something… something normal. “No surgery yet?”

  “The doc wanted to use some of that special stuff Violet brought back from The Outlands on my hand first. Something about wanting to see if it could repair some of the smaller damaged bones first, because then there’d be a chance surgery would help repair the rest, and I’d get better use of my hand.”

  “That’s great news,” I said. I wasn’t sure if it was. I had tried to listen, I really had, but my mind was consumed with Miriam. Our wedding. How we had promised to be with each other forever. Then a stupid fight had led to catastrophe… and now she was dead, and I was about to marry someone else. How cruel I was to her memory.

  Alejandro shifted, and then leaned a shoulder into the wall next to me, his sharp blue eyes squinting as he took me in. “You okay, boyo?”

  I tried to suck down another breath of air, and shook my head. “I think I’m having a panic attack,” I grated out, even angrier for having said it out loud.

  “Oh.” A pause, followed by, “That doesn’t surprise me at all.”

  I looked over at Alejandro with eyes wide, and
he gave me a tired smile. “Is it… about Miriam?”

  How well he knew me. I nodded tightly, unable to let her name cross my lips.

  Alejandro’s voice was full of understanding. “Of course. She meant a lot to you, boyo,” he said softly, meeting my gaze. “It’s no wonder you’re feeling like this. There’s still so many lingering emotions inside you, and I’m sad to say this, but they will remain.”

  I sucked in another breath, rewarded by my stomach easing up a little bit and allowing more air to get in. “I still miss her sometimes,” I admitted. “What if me doing this is… being disrespectful to her memory?”

  Alejandro smiled and looked around the hall for a long moment, considering the question. “Viggo, you and Miriam were dealt a bad hand. That’s a bad way of expressing it, but it’s true. You both got unlucky. And it’s not because you knew each other or that you even fell in love. It’s not that you fought and she left. It was just… bad luck and bad timing. Miriam would understand this. It’s only natural to let someone into your heart. She would want it for you. She would want you to be happy. As you and I both know, no man can be an island for too long without sinking into the seas… You love Violet, right?”

  “Yes,” I said, my breath coming a little easier.

  “You’ll do anything to keep her safe and happy?”

  “Yes,” I replied, a little more emphatically.

  “Then marry her. You and Miriam had your time, and now you have another chance. Marry Violet, and just… devote whatever time you have left to her, and it’ll be a wonderful life, worthy of your attention. You’re always going to love Miriam… but that doesn’t mean you don’t have room in your heart for another.”

  I hesitated, the fear clutching at my heart feeling oily and poisonous, like the slimy residue from a venomous amphibian that had marched all over it. “I just couldn’t bear to lose Violet like I lost Miriam,” I admitted, both to myself and to Alejandro. I didn’t even want to consider the possibility—getting married felt too much like just one step closer to losing her.

  Alejandro sighed loudly through his nose. “Viggo, that situation, the way you lost Miriam, it can’t happen again. It literally can’t. The gender population has shifted in Patrus—women now outnumber men here. That means those women are going to have to have a say in their country, just by the sheer lack of anyone able to handle the role. And that means that all those laws against women are going to change for the better, if not disappear completely.”

  The tightness in my chest eased up a bit more at his words, until I was finally able to take a deep, steady breath, easing fully into the exhale, letting my anxiety out along with it. Not all of it left—some remained to taunt me, but it was a small voice, one easily overridden by my rational mind. Alejandro was right. There was no way what had happened to Miriam would ever happen to Violet.

  Unless, of course, we got caught in Matrus, the small evil voice reminded me—and I decided right then and there to lock it away and throw away the key. No way was I letting my own doubt stand in the way of what I’d wanted to do ever since I’d asked Violet to marry me on that sinking ship.

  Alejandro waited patiently by my side, until I pushed off of the wall and gave him a nod, looking into his eyes with all the gratitude I could muster. “Thank you, Alejandro.”

  “Of course, boyo. It’s like that for all of us. You should’ve seen me before my wedding. A stiff breeze could’ve knocked me over that day. But trust me, as soon as you see her standing there waiting for you—only you—you’ll forget all of your nerves for sure.”

  I grinned at him, a chuckle escaping from my lips, just as Tim rounded the corner. I stepped out around Alejandro, smiling as the young man bounded over, a lopsided and excited smile plastered on his youthful face.

  “Violet ready,” he announced. “Waiting for you in hospital. Everyone.”

  Reaching out, I gently ruffled his hair. “Thanks, Tim. Let me go round up the guys, and we’ll be right there, okay?”

  “Okay!” he said with a sharp nod. He turned and then bounded back down the stairs, his feet landing heavily on the floor and kicking up a ruckus as he moved quickly to the bottom.

  Exchanging looks with Alejandro, I grinned and then moved over to the door, throwing it open.

  “It’s time, gentlemen,” I announced to the men waiting inside.

  OceanofPDF.com

  19

  OceanofPDF.com

  VIOLET

  My hands were sweating, forcing me to shift the bouquet of flowers Tim had picked for me from one hand to another. The hospital was quiet. People were sleeping, mostly, but Dr. Tierney had helped us—and, I assumed, them—by moving the less-than-critical patients out of the small corner we were holding the ceremony in.

  The beds had been shifted slightly, angled in rows to create a wider space between them, as well as in the aisle separating them. A podium had been brought in and placed near the wall. The officiant would stand behind it, while Viggo and I were in front, close to the beds. Our guests would sit in them during the ceremony. Well, some of them would. Quinn and Jay were still lying there, as always.

  Solomon had been brought out of his private room for the ceremony. It made me smile to have him here, even if he wasn’t awake. He still hadn’t regained consciousness, but Dr. Tierney had warned me not to worry yet. If he wasn’t up in another day or so, then we’d have to worry. I just hoped it wasn’t my fault that he was still unconscious.

  Tim entered, flashing me a smile, and I looked over his shoulder, half-expecting to see Viggo on his tail. But as Tim scampered over, I felt a wave of nervous disappointment roll over me, and sucked in a shuddering breath.

  “This is so stupid,” I muttered as Tim dropped down into a nearby bed, right next to where Jay was still sleeping in his bed. “Why am I even feeling like this?”

  “You beautiful,” Tim said reassuringly, reaching up to lightly touch my arms. I looked down at the dress I was wearing. It was a simple thing, really, and totally inappropriate attire for winter. The sheer yellow fabric underneath the black crocheted bodice and sleeves was so thin, I’d freeze to death if we were outside. Despite its thinness, it was oddly heavy, which only added to the discomfort of having my legs bare, and the fact that the entire thing was half an inch too tight.

  Then again, maybe it was in my head. I’d never been the kind of girl to wear dresses—never had the money or luxury of owning one, really—and I’d usually worn them in Patrus as disguises. At the moment, this one felt no different. I’d traded my good boots for it—at my insistence—to a young woman in Mags’ group. Her shoes had been next to nothing, and I just couldn’t take the dress without giving her something in return. Yet even after going through all that to secure a dress, I suddenly desperately wished I were in pants and a sweater.

  “The dress is okay,” I half-whispered under my breath, trying to convince myself. “But my hair is still a half-grown mess, my face is still bruised up… This was an awful idea. I really should go change.”

  “It fine,” Tim said reassuringly. The door opened behind him, and I looked up, my heart in my throat, beating faster than a trapped butterfly. The disappointment I felt as I saw Ms. Dale leading in Logan, Drew, Mags, and Jenny was almost unbearable, and I looked back at Tim.

  “I’m getting married in a hospital!” I whispered harshly.

  Maybe I was nervous and just needed to complain, or maybe all of this was taking too long. Either way, I just wanted to see Viggo so he could wrap his arms around me and make me laugh about my own silliness. This whole thing had been my idea, after all.

  “Thank you for doing that,” said a hoarse voice, grabbing my attention. I looked over and saw Jay’s eyes open—albeit still looking a little groggy—a half-smile on his face. “Violet,” he rasped as soon as his eyes met my gaze, “you look so beautiful.” His lips smacked as he talked, and Tim immediately reached for a cup on the nightstand next to Jay, lifting it up to his lips and helping him drink a few mouthfuls.


  The move was so careful and practiced that it was clear Tim had been spending every waking and sleeping moment with Jay since he’d been injured. I moved closer and then sat down on the side of Jay’s bed, my knees brushing up against Tim’s. Jay gave me a sleepy smile, and then yawned.

  “Sorry,” he said, his voice a little less rough now that he’d had water. “These meds are really good at making the pain go away, but not so good for staying awake.” He yawned another time, and then shook his head. “So… you finally marrying Viggo? It’s about time.”

  I looked up as Ms. Dale directed Drew, Mags, and Logan to sit on an empty bed, but only Mags and Drew sat down. Logan moved over to where Amber was sitting, on the bed next to Solomon’s, and dropped onto the mattress behind her. He said something, and Amber rolled her eyes silently in return. But as she turned to give him the cold shoulder, I noticed a small smile creeping across her lips.

  I wasn’t able to comprehend or wonder about their drama right now. I stood back up, unable to sit any longer, and began to shift my weight back and forth, waiting impatiently. Morgan entered the room and made a beeline over to me, a nervous smile on her face.

  “Hey, Violet, how are you feeling?”

  “Nervous,” I replied tersely, shifting the bundle of flowers to my other hand again while I dragged my moist palm down the side of my dress. “You?”

  Her green eyes darted around, and she nodded, her smile softening and dimming into a small frown. “Nervous.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s my wedding. Technically I’m the only one entitled to be nervous.”

  Morgan gaped at me for a second, and then grinned. “You’re becoming one of those bride monsters, Violet,” she teased, stepping around me and sitting down in the empty bed behind Jay’s. She pulled out a notebook and a pen, opened up to a page, and began reading, her mouth moving softly as she rehearsed whatever speech she had written.

 

‹ Prev