by Charlie Hart
“Before all the women left.” Grace wipes her hands on her apron. “With them all living in compounds on the mainland, there’s no need for me anymore.”
“I didn’t know.”
She shrugs. “The last child I delivered was--” Her lips tighten on the name she was going to utter. “Well, it was a long time ago. But I will tell you that I never had a single mother or child die in my care.”
“Not one?” I look at her in astonishment.
“I’m telling you, sweet girl, there are healing powers in the myosotis parviflora.” She gives a hard little shake of her head.
“Have you ever had the flower analyzed?” I ask.
“Now you’re sounding like one of those scientists.”
I don’t correct her, and admit that I am one of those scientists.
She sighs. “The only proof I need is what I’ve seen with my own eyes. The red-faced, healthy, screaming little girls that I’ve brought into this world.”
“Do you have any flowers here that I can take back with us?”
She seems to like that suggestion. Smiling she says, “I’ll send Will out to gather some before you leave.”
“Thank you.”
She nods, but I can still see the worry in her eyes.
“The twins that you delivered, they... they lived?”
“Both girls and mom are still alive and healthy. They’ll be sixteen next summer.” She breathes out a long sigh. “Soon they’ll be off to the lottery as well.”
“You don’t agree with it? The Lottery?”
“It’s the lack of choice that I don’t agree with. What is humanity without choice?” Grace says.
“The strong have always taken the choice away from the weak,” Emerson says, surprising me. “It isn’t any different now.”
“So, you don’t think there’s anything we can do about it?” I ask, glancing up at my husband. Grace turns back to the baking, giving us privacy.
“I didn’t say that.” He drags his thumb across my cheek. “We fight every day for freedom. For love.”
“Do you wish life were different though?” I take his hand in mine, needing to know if he has regrets about the life we’ve created together. “Do you wish you could have a... traditional marriage?”
“I used to. But now, I can’t imagine my life any other way. And if I have to share you with five other men, then that’s the way it has to be.” He pulls me into his arms, and from the corner of my eye, I see Grace leave the room. “But I am glad when I get some time alone with you.”
He kisses me then, soft, sweet, full of all the emotions I feel.
“Yuck.” Mason’s voice says behind us. “Why are grown-ups so gross?”
Emerson chuckles. “Trust me, one day you won’t think kissing is gross.”
Mason twists his face before disappearing out the door.
“He really does look like you,” I say, my heart clenching for all the moments Emerson has missed with his son.
But then he was still practically a child himself when the boy was born. Maybe he was right in letting his parents raise him as their own. Still, I wonder if there’s any part of Emerson that wants the boy with us, in the compound.
“Do you...?” I place my palms on his chest, not knowing how to broach the subject.
His fingers brush my hair away from my cheek. “Do I what?”
“Want Mason with you?”
His brows drawn down. “You mean at the compound?”
I nod. “He’s your son. If you want--”
“No.” He rests his forehead against mine. “Mason belongs here. The compound would be a cage for a boy like him. And I don’t think my mom would survive losing him. But I love you a little more for suggesting it.”
“I want you to be happy.”
“God, Tia. If I was any happier, I think my heart would burst from my chest. You’re my everything.”
“I love you so much.”
“Enough to trust me?”
“You know I do.”
“I mean about the myosotis parviflora.”
I sigh. “It’s not about trusting you, Em. It’s about science versus--”
“Okay. I get it. Just promise me that you’ll have Banks look into it before you dismiss it completely. I only want to protect you, and I’ve seen the miracle of--”
“I know.” I lean up on my toes and kiss him again. “Your hope is contagious, Em.”
But hope isn’t what will save me and our children. Only science will. Unfortunately, that’s not something that Emerson or his mom can understand.
Chapter 8
Emerson
If I could keep Tia on the island, force her to take the herbal remedy my mother swears by, I would. But as confident as I am in the healing properties of the myosotis parviflora, Tia’s case isn’t like any other. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself as I sail us back to the mainland, and drive the remaining miles to the compound.
As we approach the house, the tranquility that I’d felt from her while we were with my family, dissipates.
“You okay?” I ask, feeling rather than seeing her tense beside me.
“Just being back here, reminds me of all the dangers we face.”
“Everything is going to be fine. You and our babies--”
“I know,” she sighs, but I can tell she doesn’t believe me. To her, I’m just a simple-minded farm boy who can’t understand the scientific equations she and Banks are constantly focused on.
Frustration and insecurities bubble inside of me.
I pull the vehicle to a stop and put it into park. And then just like that, the island is a memory.
Her other husbands are on the front steps, waiting to greet us, and Tia is no longer mine alone.
They all wrap her in their arms, shower her with kisses and the warmth she deserves. I distract myself by grabbing our bags, trying not to notice when Banks pulls her into his arms and runs a hand down her back. Jealousy stirs in my chest at the sight of them together.
I can handle her relationship with the other men. The intensity of Fallon’s love, the gentleness of Giles’ affections, even her connection with Salinger and Huxley doesn’t bother me. But there’s something about Banks that gets under my skin.
Maybe it’s that I know I’ll never fully understand her mind the way he does. Or it’s the way he looks at me like I’m beneath him, the way he talks down to me because I didn’t go to the top universities like he did. Or, maybe it’s just my own insecurities that even though Tia says she’s not good enough for me, I know the truth. There will always be a part of her that thinks, like Banks, I’m not their equal.
At least not intellectually.
I’ve always prided myself on being a steady person, but as I watch her and Banks disappear together into the study, anger twists and consumes.
She’s put all her hopes on him. On his research. And while I want to believe that he’ll succeed in saving her, it’s science that got us in this mess in the first place.
“How did it go?” Giles asks when I enter the kitchen after I’ve unpacked my bags.
“Good,” I say gruffly, feeling out of sorts.
At least on the island, I was in my own element. But here, in this concrete compound, surrounded by armed guards and walls, I feel like I’m in some kind of prison.
I hadn’t felt it as much before. But now, after spending a few days with my wife on the open expanse and simplicity of the island, it’s like all the suppressed emotions I’d been holding back, come sizzling to the surface.
Giles raises a brow at me. “Well, we’re glad you’re back. Haven’t had a decent meal since you’ve been gone.”
Because that’s what I am to them and to Tia, just a scullery maid.
“Well, maybe it’s time someone else learned to cook.” I turn and walk out of the kitchen before Giles can respond.
I feel like an ass as I walk away, but the frustration inside me just keeps growing.
I love my wife. More than anyt
hing in this world. And I’m sick and tired of feeling inferior. Of being the one everyone relies on but no one really respects.
Taking the box of myosotis parviflora from my bag, I march into the study and slam it down on the table in front of where Banks and Tia sit.
Banks glares up at me. “What’s your problem?”
“Do whatever tests you have to do, but just do them.”
Tia shifts on the couch, her frown matching Banks’ “Em--”
“I know what you’re going to say, Tia. But just because my family and I don’t have fancy degrees or letters beside our name, doesn’t mean we’re stupid or backward hicks.”
“I never said that.”
“No. But I see it in your eyes every time I mention this flower.”
“What flower?” Banks asks, eyes narrowing on the box as he picks it up and opens it. He pulls out one of the wilted white blossoms and twirls it in his finger.
“It’s myosotis parviflora,” I say. “My family have been using it for years to treat everything from heartburn, asthma, and morning sickness.”
“I’ve never heard of it.” Banks looks up and I can see he’s ready to dismiss me.
“My mom was a midwife before the women of the island were sent to the wife lottery. She noticed that the women who took this flower daily had better outcomes than those who didn’t.” I ignore the droll look Banks gives me and continue, “She even delivered a set of twin girls successfully.”
He scoffs, “You’re saying it’s some kind of miracle flower?”
“Yes.”
He puts the flower back in the box and shuts the lid, then hands it back to me. “The most brilliant minds in the world are working on a cure. You think that if it was found in some wild Alaskan flower, someone wouldn’t have figured that out by now.”
“My mother figured it out.”
“And her degree is in what?”
I clench my back teeth so hard they feel like they’re going to break. “Are you so fucking arrogant that you won’t even consider that just maybe you’re wrong.”
Tia stands and places a hand on my arm, then looks at Banks. “It wouldn’t hurt to run some tests.”
Banks grunts. “What I need is the missing documents from your father’s research.”
“Which is impossible.” Tia sighs. “Those files are locked away in Saint Augustine’s.”
“If I had them though...” Banks shakes his head and looks back down at his laptop.
He’s already dismissed the flower. I know he won’t do any of his tests, not unless I find a way to make him.
An idea comes to me.
“You want those files?” I straighten my shoulders. “What if I can get them for you?”
“How?” Banks looks up at me.
“Tia knows where they are. With Salinger’s help we could sneak into the labs--”
“No.” Tia shakes her head. “It’s so far away. And it way too dangerous.”
“What’s dangerous is you carrying six babies,” I say, then focus my gaze on Banks. “I’ll get the file. But I want something from you.”
“What?” Suspicion draws his features tight.
“To analyze the flower.”
One dark brow raises. “You believe in it that much?”
“I do. I’ve seen...” I glance at Tia, then back at Banks before admitting. “I’ve seen first hand how it works. My son--”
“Son?” Banks sits up and places his laptop down, eyes widening.
“He’s just one of the children born because of it. I’d never put Tia or our children at risk if I didn’t believe one hundred percent that it is safe.”
He holds my gaze, and something swirls beneath his dark eyes before he gives a hard nod. “You get me the files and I’ll run some tests on the flower.”
It’s a small victory, but I’ll take it.
Now I just have to figure out how the hell I’m going to get those damn files.
I leave the study feeling slightly less inferior. Banks heard me, and I have a job to do. Go to the mainland, sneak into a high-security lab and get some files that I know nothing about.
Suddenly my brilliant plan seems like a goddamn disaster. I’m going to need Salinger’s help if I have a prayer of breaking into a lab Tia’s father is running.
Grabbing a few beers, I find Salinger in the living room watching television. Offering him one, I broach the subject. “Hey, uh, I was wondering if you had any interest in helping me with something.”
I explain the mission to him and his eyes widen as he takes it in. “You want me to break into a high-security lab, compromise Tia’s safety, and risk my job for some file Banks wants?”
I nod. “Yeah, can you help?”
He laughs. “Tell Banks to go there himself. He has the same fucking clearance as me.”
I frown. “You won’t help?”
“Hell no. I won’t risk her life, and it’s suicide.”
I should have known Salinger would only consider himself. I raise my voice, unable to hold back, “You do realize our wife and our children are going to die, right?”
Salinger’s brows shoot up, then he shakes his head and gives me a look like I’m a complete idiot.
At first, I think his expression is because I’ve never spoken so aggressively, but then I realize it is because Tia and the other men have all walked into the room.
Shit.
“You think I’m going to die?” Tia asks, walking around the couch and looking at me as if she’s never seen me before. Like I’ve sprouted horns on the top of my head.
I’m the one who’s supposed to keep the faith, not lose it.
“Fuck, I didn’t think you were here.” I run a hand over my beard, feeling suddenly hot and cold at the same time. “No I don’t think you’ll die, but your chances are lower if we don’t get the file Banks wants.”
And if she doesn’t take my mom’s remedy.
“That’s not what you care about,” Banks says coolly like he can read my mind. “You want me to test your mother’s wildflower. This is about you wanting to prove yourself.”
I scoff, knowing in truth his words are hitting much too close to home. “I want Tia to be healthy. I want our babies to be healthy. And I’ll do whatever is necessary to make sure that happens.”
“What exactly do you want to do?” Fallon asks.
When I describe taking a boat to the mainland and breaking into the lab he cuts me off.
“That’s a terrible fucking plan,” he says. “Someone will see you, and trace you back to Tia.”
As much as I respect Fallon, I’m a little surprised he isn’t willing to try harder to get what Banks’ needs on our wife’s behalf.
“How important do you think the files are?” Giles asks Banks.
Banks twists his lips, considering.
Before he answers, Tia cuts in, “Really important. But I don’t think going without me is an option. I know where to get them. I know that place like the back of my hand, and--”
“No way,” Giles says, lifting his hands in the air as if the topic is off the table.
“It’s too dangerous,” Salinger adds, dismissing the idea again.
“Easy for you to say,” Tia pushes back.
God, I love the woman. Despite how frustrating her stubbornness can be at times, it’s her hard-headedness that will help her survive.
“Your life isn’t at stake.” There’s a burning fire in her eyes I’ve rarely seen.
My lip turns up into a small smile.
She’s determined, strong, and fights for what she believes in.
“I know most of you hate that I am keeping this pregnancy,” she says, her voice unwavering. “And I understand why. You’re scared for me. I get it. I’m scared too. But I want this. I want to make a family. A real family. At Em’s parent’s, I saw what our life could be. Growing boys around the table, laughter, and generations, and a real future. I know that dream requires risks. But I am prepared to take them. I just need to know who
is with me.”
The room is so quiet you could hear a pin drop as we absorb Tia’s speech. I know where I stand, but no one wants to hear from me right now. I’m smart enough to know how to read the fucking room. Voicing my opinion would only hurt my cause.
When Fallon leaves without saying another word, I feel Tia’s resolve weaken.
Who the hell does Fallon think he is?
Salinger clears his throat. “I’m with you, Tia, but I’m not for this mission. It’s reckless.”
“You said you had a flower to test?” Giles asks Banks. “Can’t you try that before you have someone to get this file? Let’s rule everything out first.”
“I can get behind that,” Sal says nodding. “Banks?”
“Okay. I’ll run some tests,” Banks sighs, then takes Tia’s hand. “And I’m with you, always. Do you actually doubt that?”
“I know you are with me. All of you. But there is so much tension in the house ever since the pregnancy, and I feel like we keep kissing it away and adding band-aids. But I need to know that no matter what--”
“I know.” Banks cuts her off. He then grabs both her arms and pulls her to him. “And I am with you. We’re all doing everything we can.”
She nods, and a tear falls down her cheek. Banks’ shoulders drop and he pulls her mouth to his, kissing her hard as if it’s a goddamn statement that she is willing to sign, seal, and deliver.
I turn my back on them, I don’t need to compare myself to his twisted history. As I turn, Huxley’s eyes catch mine. He’s mouthing something to me.
I’m in.
I clench my jaw. Guess friends can be found in unlikely places.
“I’ll look at the flower before we talk about this so-called mission, okay?” Banks says to me.
Huxley growls out, “So, time isn’t of the essence? We’re just going to hope that some fucking flower will save Tia’s life when we all know the truth?”
Everyone goes quiet at his words. As harsh as they are, he’s right. The flower may help, but we need every piece of the puzzle we can get our hands on if we’re going to save our wife and children’s lives.