The Gender Lie(14)

He moved away toward the truck and I followed, my eyes riveted on the truck as anxiety rose in me. I wasn’t sure how I was going to do this, but if I wanted to make sure everyone with me made it out alive, I would have to.





7





Violet





Surprisingly, the trip went smoothly. Owen had managed to pull Solomon and Quinn aside before they got on, and they made room for me and Amber between them. If the Porteque gang realized something was up, they didn’t say anything.

I spent most of the ride pretending to sleep—which was difficult. The truck they had provided jostled over every bump and hole, throwing us up in the air multiple times. The seats were hard and made of metal, and after an hour of bouncing on them, it felt like I would never be able to walk again.

After three hours, the ride evened out. At my questioning glance, Solomon leaned over and whispered that we were now on a road, and that it would take another two hours to reach our destination. I exhaled, and then leaned back to try to pretend to rest again.

I actually managed to sleep until the truck came to a complete stop, jerking me awake. Stiff and sore, I stood and stretched, watching as the men leapt out of the back of the truck, pulling aside the heavy canvas flaps. I let everyone climb out first, and then slipped out behind them, dragging the bags to the tailgate.

Owen was massaging his lower back and looking around. We were parked behind a massive warehouse, walls enclosing the compound. I could smell the deep rich earth smell that seemed permanent in Patrus. We were close to one of the farms, but within the city, like they had promised.

Quinn passed Amber’s rope over to Owen, who jerked her close. The Porteque men laughed at her cry of pain, and I turned away before anyone could notice the frown that his action caused. I knew it was an act, put on for the gang members’ benefit, but it still didn’t sit right with me.

Slinging the bag on my shoulder, I stood silently behind Owen while he and the Porteque leader shook hands.

“Thanks again, Peter,” Owen said, a broad smile on his face.

“No problem, Sam,” rasped Peter. He shot a glance at Amber, a calculating look in his eyes. “You sure you don’t want to let me and the boys take her for a few days? She looks like she could definitely benefit from our education program.”

The men behind him guffawed, and my hand clenched into a fist around the strap of my backpack.

Owen chuckled with him, but shook his head apologetically. “Sorry, Peter, but you know the drill. They don’t pay for damaged goods—and they want to break in those Matrians themselves, y’know?”

I tried to keep my face neutral in the face of Owen’s act, but it was hard. Maybe it was because I was so bad at acting, but Owen’s ability to slip into a role this chauvinistic bothered me. A lot.

Peter was nodding in agreement. “I can imagine those Matrian women are quite a handful,” he said. “Maybe I’ll need to order one from you next time.”

Owen laughed. “Peter, don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t think you can afford it—these girls cost a lot, considering everything we have to do to get them.”

Peter gave a laugh that made my skin crawl. “I hear you there, brother. Well, take care, and let us know when you need to smuggle another one in, all right?”

Owen nodded and extended a hand. “Of course.”

Peter gave a whistle and the Porteque gang clambered back aboard the truck. We stood and watched as they started to drive away. Owen raised his hand in one final wave as they disappeared around the corner.

Almost immediately, he spat on the ground, as if he had a foul taste in his mouth, and dropped the rope leading to Amber.

“I hate working with them,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his hand over his mouth in an attempt to clean it.

Solomon nodded in wordless agreement, his fingers already flying over the knots binding Amber’s wrists together.

“I think you did a good job,” Amber said, her voice quiet.

Owen shot her a look and then let out a breath. “Yeah, well, it doesn’t make it feel any better,” he said.

Amber wiggled out of her ropes and threw her arms around Owen’s neck. “Don’t worry about it, Owen. Let’s just get to where we need to go so I can take this monkey suit off.”

I watched the scene unfold, feeling relieved. Knowing that Owen hated doing what he did helped me feel a lot better. All the resentment that had been building up in me during our five-hour trip had receded, and I felt better knowing at the very least, the others felt as I did.

Owen shouldered his pack and turned toward me. “You okay?” he asked and I nodded.

“So, where to next?”