The Gender Plan (The Gender Game #6)

“No, and I never get tired of hearing it. By the way, am I winning yet?”


I rolled my eyes, but a smile tugged at my lips. “I thought we weren’t playing that game anymore.”

“We’re not, but let’s just call it an oldie but a goody.”

“Oh, just like you,” I teased, and a deep rumbling laugh burst from his chest as he cradled me closer, resting his chin on my head.

“Just like me,” he agreed. He held me like that for a few seconds longer, and then pulled back. “Did that help?”

“A little,” I admitted, taking just a moment longer to soak up his love and support. Then I stood. “I’ll be back in a little bit,” I said.

He nodded, and I felt his eyes watching me as I turned and walked down the hallway, moving toward the first bedroom. It was partially open, and I pushed through, letting my eyes adjust to the dimmer light. The curtains were drawn, perhaps to keep the patients from having to stare into the sun, and I blinked at the change.

Dr. Tierney was hunched over by one of the walls, and when she turned, I realized she was examining Owen, who sat in a chair with his back to the wall. His eyes widened when he saw me, and then he looked away.

“Hey, Violet,” Dr. Tierney said. “Your brother’s still not awake yet, but—”

“That’s okay, Doc,” I said, leaning against the doorframe. “Viggo filled me in. But why did he go into shock?” I moved over to the bed where Tim was lying, noting the dark bruises mottling his face and arms. “Also, is that much bruising okay?”

Dr. Tierney sighed and moved up next to me, resting a hand on my shoulder. “In terms of blood loss, it’s negligible, but I did give him a blood patch, just in case. And as for going into shock… Well, to be honest, I don’t know. Best guess, it’s probably a reaction to the extreme pain he must have experienced due to the side effects of Dr. Jenks’ experimentation. Owen mentioned he was close to a hand grenade going off—much closer than you two. The kinetic energy alone, even with a wall in between, must have been agony for him. I’m sure he’ll wake up soon, though. I’ve got him on some mild painkillers.”

I nodded, the worry I had been keeping at bay slipping past my defenses. I hated seeing Tim like that, lying still, in a bed. A small part of me was grateful he hadn’t been able to see me that way—I could only imagine the toll it would’ve taken on him.

Turning, I looked at where Owen still sat in the chair, looking very guilty. His eyes met mine in a flick and then shot away, toward the ground. “Dr. Tierney, is Owen okay to leave?”

I turned my head back to her, and she blinked, her brows drawing together in confusion. “Yes? Why? I don’t recommend any missions until I’m sure his concussion is—”

“Nothing like that,” I assured her. “I just need a minute to talk to him.”

“Oh, of course. Yes, he’s fine, and he is okay to leave the room. Maybe not the camp just yet.”

“Excellent. Owen?” I turned more fully, resisting the urge to cross my arms over my chest and speak to him like a child.

“Yup.” He stood up and moved over to the door. I followed him into the hall, closing the door behind me.

As we walked past my old bedroom, Owen informed me, “Henrik’s in there at the moment—he’s been moved to start his physical therapy without disturbing Quinn.”

“I see,” I murmured, and reached over and opened the door to the small bathroom across the hall from Dr. Tierney’s room. “Here will do.”

If Owen thought it was odd for us to have this conversation in the bathroom, he didn’t say anything. I moved in, and he followed, closing the door behind us. I didn’t turn to face him just yet, facing the faded blue tiles of the wall just to compose my mind, trying to calm down the turbulent mix of emotions racing through me. There was a lot of anger and mistrust built up in me, making it difficult to view the situation clearly. I decided to start there.

“I’m angry at you,” I announced quietly in the small, slightly echoing confines of our room. “Angry… and hurt… and frankly, I don’t know if I can trust you anymore.”

“I know,” Owen said from behind me, and I turned.

“You don’t know,” I seethed, the words tumbling out. “You don’t have any idea what it was like, what I had to go through to get us all out alive. And Tim! Did you even think to check him? I mean, how did you even do all this? How could you do all this? It wasn’t even your idea to go to Ashabee’s! How could you have known?!”

Owen took a step forward, his body language and facial expression pleading. “Violet, there are no words I could begin to use to let you know how sorry I am. You’re right—what I did was beyond wrong. I see that now. I should’ve…” He took a step back and looked away, hiding the shame burning brightly behind his eyes. “I should’ve seen it then,” he finally admitted hoarsely.

I fell silent, feeling the hot press of tears behind my eyelids and pushing them back. “I don’t even know if I can believe you.” The words were hard to get out, making my heart ache fiercely at what his decision had cost us.

“I know,” he replied hollowly. I saw something drop from his eyes and splatter on the floor, and I realized Owen was crying. That only made me want to cry more. I turned away, facing the tiles again, and clamped my teeth together, hovering between despair and wrath and wishing none of this had ever happened. If only so I could have my friend back.

“You need to tell everyone,” I said. “You need to tell them everything. I won’t lie for you. I won’t, and you shouldn’t expect me to.”

“Violet, I would never—”

“I don’t need your reassurances right now. Because right now, they mean nothing to me. You do this… you accept their punishment… and then… then we’ll see. But right now, I just… I just need you to let me process this.”

Owen shifted behind me. “Of course I’ll do it,” he said, after a moment. “I was already going to.”

“Good. You’ll have your chance at lunch. We’re having a meeting, and I expect you to tell them then.”

I didn’t wait for his reply. I didn’t think I could bear it if he started making excuses or trying to get out of it. I hated thinking that he even would, but that was where I was with him. I felt like I couldn’t even trust that the person he had been in the past was the person he actually was. It was unfair, yes, but it was how I felt.

Pushing past him, I walked out, making a beeline for Dr. Tierney’s room and closing the door behind me, just so that Owen wouldn’t be tempted to follow me. I inhaled a deep breath, and then turned, pausing when I saw Dr. Tierney leaning over Quinn’s bed, a sponge in her hand.

“Am I interrupting?” I asked, suddenly nervous.