The Gender Game

by Forrest, Bella

  Any second, I expected him to grab my arms and push me away. Insist that I leave.

  But he didn't pry me off. Although he remained static… he was allowing me to kiss him. My chest fluttering, I dared raise my eyelids half open. His eyes were closed tight. A deep frown marring his features, he looked stricken with conflict.

  Still, he didn't push me away.

  He must have sensed I'd opened my eyes, for his opened a few seconds later—only halfway, like mine. We gazed at each other like two people drowning, neither of us having the strength to surface, even in the face of sinking deeper.

  Then, at some point during those few dazed seconds, something sparked in Viggo's green irises. Fervor. Hunger… Need. And suddenly, my lips were no longer maintaining control. His lips moved, prying from my grasp, before returning a second later to establish dominance. His mouth claimed mine, unhurriedly at first, the way he might scope out a new opponent in the cage. Then it escalated to a strength that left me struggling to breathe. His kiss forced every muscle in my mouth to awaken as the rest of his body loosened, coming alive. His hands dove into my hair, his powerful fingers threading through its length before trailing down my back. His lips refusing to unlock from mine for even a second, he lowered himself, dragging his hands down to my thighs before hoisting me up against his hips. He moved to the nearest wall and pressed me against it. His palms ran the length from my knees to my thighs. Then they slid beneath my shirt. The coarseness of his hands against my bare skin lit me up. He stopped above my navel, his fingers curving round my waist as he held me firmly in place.

  He'd pinned me, and now he had me.

  His tongue parted my lips, allowing me to feel it for the first time. It brushed against the tip of mine before moving deeper. Exploring. Then devouring.

  My senses were lost in him. His scent, his taste, his hard breathing. He had overpowered me completely, and I was losing this fight. Willingly losing it.

  When I'd moved in, I'd had no game plan, no clear idea of what I was even doing, let alone how long I'd let it last. I'd just felt the overwhelming need to release my tension around him. To finally provide him with a response he'd been hounding me for. Perhaps even to say goodbye.

  But I didn't think it would last long.

  Time had lost its meaning, however. My mind had become comfortably numb. Viggo's mouth, taut skin and forceful grip became all that existed in my world.

  I was afraid now to pull apart. Having figured out a pattern to regulate my breathing against the rhythm of his passion, I found myself slipping out of defense mode. Anchoring myself higher up against him, I wrapped my legs tightly around his waist, pulling my chest flush against his. I clutched the sides of his face, relishing the prickle of his stubble beneath my fingers. Like the mountains he insisted on living among, everything about Viggo was raw. Wild. Real. He was unadulterated masculinity. From his thick waves of hair to his rough, cut-up fists. I hadn't thought it possible for one person to crave another as I did in this moment… least of all a woman for a man.

  I feared we might drown even deeper that night, the two of us alone in this cabin. Especially as his hands moved higher beneath my shirt, his thumbs tracing the top of my breasts, his palms grazing my bra cups.

  But we never got the chance to test our self-restraint.

  As a sharp rapping sounded at the door, Viggo and I were torn apart.

  We stood, frozen, lips and cheeks flushed red, our hearts thumping. Reality slammed into us, and our delicate illusion shattered. We stared at each other as strangers would, stunned by what had happened. By what we had allowed to happen.

  There was no time for words. Viggo, trailing a quick hand through his hair, snatched up a shirt hanging over the back of his armchair and jerked it over his head. While I—with no mirror to assist me—attempted to pat down my hair, straighten my clothes and look as though Viggo's hands hadn't just been up my shirt.

  Searching my face, Viggo's eyes were still glassy, shining with desire, as I suspected mine were.

  His expression was questioning. I nodded, even as I tried to tame my erratic breathing, still my trembling hands.

  I was as ready to face Lee now as I ever would be.

  31

  Viggo opened the front door to reveal Lee standing on the porch in a long black anorak with an umbrella tucked beneath one arm, dark circles beneath his eyes. "Viggo," he said. I could hardly hold Lee's gaze as he glanced my way. "I'm so sorry for this." Lee held out a hand to me and I had no choice but to brush past Viggo and take it, like an obedient child, allowing Lee to pull me next to him on the porch. His arm found my waist and he held me against him. "Violet has been unstable since Porteque. The doctor said it could be a long time before she recovers from the trauma. She's been sleepwalking, going blank when I ask her questions… I didn't think she'd ever do something as crazy as this."

  Viggo didn't say a word. He stood, his face stoic, his eyes remaining determinedly on Lee. I averted my own gaze to the floor. It was torture to look Viggo in the eye now. Every fiber of my being still burned for him. My lips still tingled from his kiss. The scent and feel of his bare skin still tantalized me. Standing there in his doorway, his hair loose and mussed, eyes alight with a gleam that told me his consciousness, too, was still trapped living in the moments before Lee's arrival… he was temptation personified to me. I guessed I was the same for Viggo, given his refusal to look at me.

  "I understand that you are bound to report my wife for this transgression," Lee said, giving my waist a tense squeeze. "But given everything she's been through… Would you be able to wait at least a few days? I fear what being taken to court will do for her mental health."

  There was a pause before Viggo's baritone voice replied, "I cannot promise anything, Mr. Bertrand."

  "Of course not," Lee said quickly. I was sure that even requesting Viggo to engage in "obstruction of justice" would put Lee on the line for punishment too, if Viggo decided to report us.

  "Once again," Lee went on. "I'm deeply sorry for the inconvenience. I will deposit all the money I owe you to date. Just let me know the number of hours—you've been keeping track, I assume? As for the motorcycle she came with, can I figure out a way to pick it up tomorrow? If you wouldn't mind my leaving it here…”

  "You can leave the bike here," was all Viggo said. His response made me wonder if he was even planning to accept Lee’s money in the end.

  Lee thanked Viggo again before pulling me away from the porch, down the stairs and into the rain—much lighter than when I had arrived—toward his second motorcycle, a dark red one.

  I resisted the urge to look back at Viggo as he watched us move away. Move away, when all I wanted was to race back and throw myself into his arms. Wrap my legs around his waist and lose myself in him all over again.

  But this wasn't a fairytale.

  Viggo's and my story was everything but.

  * * *

  I couldn't be sure how long Viggo remained watching us leave, but the light from the gas lamp on his porch still cast shadows as we arrived at the end of the dirt track.

  Only once we had joined the road and picked up speed did Lee break the silence.

  "I think you owe me an explanation."

  I felt his tenseness beneath my hands as I was forced to hold on to him for support.

  I wasn't sure what to say. I had betrayed his trust and been caught red-handed. I figured there was nothing to say other than the truth.

  "I couldn't help it."

  "Couldn't help what?"

  "I had to see him. I wanted to stop him from showing up tomorrow. I didn't…" My voice faltered. "I don't want to do this to him."

  I expected a barrage from Lee, but instead he remained silent.

  And he stayed silent until we reached his home. Entering the hallway, he removed his anorak and hung it over the coat holder before slowly turning around. His face was ashen. His eyes flickered to meet mine.

  "Do you…" He hesitated, drawing in a breath. "Do you ha
ve feelings for him?"

  I swallowed. "You could say that."

  "What happened when you were alone in the cabin? Before I arrived? I need you to tell me."

  "I didn't say anything, and I never planned to tell him anything about the mission. As I said, my only intention was to keep him away from the lab. But then… I shut up completely because of that damn message you sent me."

  From pain and frustration rose anger.

  "What did you mean by that message?" I asked him, my gaze turning into a glare. "Why would you assassinate him?"

  "You know the seriousness of this mission. I don't need to remind you all that hangs in the balance. For Matrus. For you. For me. We can't afford any leaky holes." Lee's tone had become quite flat, past anger, and drenched in disappointment.

  "Why do we need to use Viggo at all?" I demanded. "Why can't we pin this on Porteque?"

  "It's too late to change the plan now. The banquet is tomorrow! There's no way we could pull that off in a believable manner with such short notice."

  "I'll do it!" I stormed. "I'll find a way!"

  "No, you won't," Lee said. "There is no time! And besides, it would be against our queen's orders. Before you even arrived, she and Alastair agreed that Viggo would be the best person. Porteque is too easy and obvious a scapegoat. If you defy them, I doubt they'll fulfill their end of your deal when you return."

  My hands balled into fists. “It doesn’t make sense! Porteque might be easier to set up, but there would be fewer potential holes with them than with Viggo. Hell, those sick bastards might even be happy to step up and claim credit for the deed."

  Lee's nostrils flared. I could tell that it was taking a lot of effort to keep his voice calm as he replied, "Violet. I repeat: it is too late to be having this conversation. Alastair has relayed the queen's wishes. We cannot change everything at such a late hour. If you want her to keep her promise to you, you're going to have to go through with this."

  Exhaling in aggravation, I drove my fists against the wall. The sound made Samuel bark and scamper into the hallway.

  "Now I need you to answer a question," Lee went on. "How can I trust that you didn't tell Viggo anything? How do you expect me to believe you now?"

  It took more than a minute before I could bring myself to reply.

  "Well"—I breathed heavily—"if we're going through with this, you'll see tomorrow, won't you? You can listen to the conversation. You'll hear his response to my request and you'll know that I told him nothing."

  Still, his gaze remained on me, searching me.

  I dropped down to rip off my shoes, brushing Samuel away as he moved in to sniff me.

  "So what actually happened?" Lee asked. "How did you explain your appearance?"

  The way he was eyeing me, it was as if he sensed something deeper had gone on. Almost like he suspected me of kissing Viggo. Was that jealousy that twitched his jaw?

  But I was tired of this conversation now. Tired of anger. Tired of everything. I wanted to lose myself in sleep. After the workout Viggo had given me, I probably could even coax myself into slumber.

  "Nothing happened that would be of any interest to you," I said. "I made up a stupid excuse for why I was there and we waited until you arrived."

  Avoiding his gaze, I moved to push past him. But he gripped my arm and pulled me back, forcing me to face him.

  "Did he touch you?" Lee’s expression was serious, his blue eyes glimmering in the soft hallway light.

  "No," I replied through gritted teeth.

  But Lee wasn't buying it.

  "Are you sure?"

  "I kissed him!" I exploded. "What does it matter to you?"

  His lips parted at my admission. "It matters to me more than you think."

  "Well, it shouldn't," I shot back, brushing him aside and running to the stairwell. I felt hot tears brimming in my eyes. I did not want Lee to see them. I rarely cried, and much more rarely showed it.

  "Violet, wait," Lee called to me, but I ignored him. I thundered up the stairs to my room and slammed the door behind me.

  I threw myself against the mattress and buried my head in the pillows, letting them absorb my tears. My body shook in silent sobs. I squeezed my eyes tight. I felt ashamed to cry, even on my own.

  I wished that I was a robot. That I could simply do, and not think or feel. That was what Lee required on this mission. A robot. Not a girl.

  I staggered to the bathroom and splashed my face with cold water in an attempt to calm myself, then crawled back into bed and willed myself to sleep.

  But my door slid open before I could manage it.

  I groaned internally, wishing Lee would leave me alone, at least until the morning.

  To my surprise, he had brought in a tray and he set it down on my bedside table. Upon it sat a jug of water, a glass, and a small white sachet.

  He knelt by my bedside. I met his eyes through the gloom.

  "Have some water," he said.

  I was actually grateful for it. I felt dehydrated and I finished the glass and replaced it on the tray. He refilled it, then picked up the sachet.

  "I've brought you something that will help you push through tomorrow," he said, his voice somber.

  I sat up in bed, staring at the sachet cradled in his fingers. "What?" I asked.

  "A diluted dose of the drug we talked about. The emotion-suppressing drug - Benuxupane. This is enough to make an impact for the next twenty-four hours."

  My eyes widened. This drug wasn't supposed to be publicly available yet. Lee must have gotten it from the lab. As wary as I was about this mysterious new drug, there was only one logical way to respond to Lee's offer.

  I nodded. Indirectly, it was exactly what I had been wishing for only minutes before his arrival. I would usually be the last person to want to give up control over my feelings and emotions. But now, I needed to. If I was to survive tomorrow without breaking down, I had to swallow this thing.

  Lee nodded back curtly before tearing open the sachet and handing it to me. I squeezed it over my mouth and out popped a small powdery pill, landing on the center of my tongue. Lee handed me a glass of water and I quickly downed it.

  I sank back against the pillows. Lee stood up and gazed over me. "You see," he said quietly, "I had a reason for asking what went on with Viggo." He cleared his throat. "Now, there are some known side effects like a mild headache, heartburn, and, occasionally, anxiety. But they won't last. You should be fine."

  I closed my eyes. I'll be fine…

  Lee's palm brushed over my forehead briefly before he collected the tray and left the room.

  Benuxupane… What a good idea of King Maxen’s after all.

  32

  An additional side effect of the drug seemed to be sleepiness. I must've drifted off within ten minutes of swallowing the pill, and by the time I woke up, it was almost midday.

  I sat up slowly in bed, rubbing my head and trying to make sense of what, if anything, was different about me. My head throbbed mildly. I also felt a slight churning in my stomach, though that was not necessarily a result of the pill.

  I thought of last night. Of my visit to Viggo's cabin. Of our kiss. And I experienced the strangest feeling, if it could even be described as a feeling. I remembered everything, of course—every detail and every emotion that I had experienced then—yet recalling them did not bring the same pain they had last night.

  Where longing and guilt had thrived was now a sense of hollowness. Of numbness. A dull, monotonous ache. That pill was like a painkiller for the brain. My emotions were still there, somewhere beneath the surface, but I was not close enough to them for them to hamper my objectiveness. The pill didn't eradicate emotions, but smothered them. At least, at the dosage Lee had fed me.

  My brain felt sharp. Clear. Alarmingly clear.

  I thought of the day ahead of me. Of tonight. And I saw the goal with clarity. For the first time, I was able to separate feelings from duty. Something Lee had urged me to do all along.

 
I slipped out of bed and took a shower, then headed out of my room. I found Lee, sitting in front of the computer in his bedroom, fully dressed.

  Our eyes locked.

  He raised a brow, expectant. "Well? How are you feeling?"

  I shrugged. "Not a lot."

  "That's good," he said. "Very good."

  He offered me a chair next to him at his desk. He had been staring at the map of Patrus City and he pointed to one of the red dots. "That's Viggo. He's at Head Office. Let's hope he's not reporting you for last night."

  I knew that Viggo wouldn't.

  "So," Lee went on briskly, "Let's go over the plan." He reached into his pocket and drew out his phone, placing it on the table. "During Viggo's lunch break, you need to call him and set the appointment for this evening. You're going to say that you want to talk to him about last night. Don't give him too many details—the point is to pique his interest. You will say that you are going to be accompanying me to the lab's banquet tonight, and that you want to meet him outside the camera room. He knows where that is. There's a quiet, private space outside the camera room, so he won't find it strange that you are asking him to head there."

  I nodded.

  "You need to tell him that you will try to slip away from me and be there at seven-fifteen p.m. But request him to wait for up to thirty minutes in case you can't leave me that quickly. Promise him that you will meet him."

  Again, I nodded.

  "The cameras will catch him heading to the security room. Soon after that, the cameras on the ground floor will stall. And fifteen minutes later, the first round of bombs will detonate at the back of the banquet hall."

  "First round of bombs?" I asked, frowning.

  "Yes," Lee said. "Plans changed in the last week—we will be blowing not just the ground floor, but also upstairs. Not only will this create an additional distraction, but it will choke the sky more thickly with smoke which, as you'll see, will be important."

  "And where will we be?"

  "Up until the bombs go off, we will be attending the banquet, of course. We will arrive at the lab at about six-thirty. Everyone will be chatting and relaxing in the lounge until about seven-ten, when we'll head to the dining hall. The banquet will be served at seven-thirty—which is when the first bombs are due to explode. I'll be watching the clock, and four minutes before, at seven twenty-six, I will receive a blank call. We'll be in the main hall, which is large. The bombs have been installed within the walls of the furthest end of the room from the door. We'll use the blank call as an excuse to stand by the exit, on the opposite corner of the explosives. I'll tell them that your aunt, who is sick, has called and you need to take a few minutes to talk to her. I'll accompany you to the door, where we'll hold an imaginary conversation in view of everyone.