by Charlie Hart
Chapter 9
Tia
I’m done being quiet and accepting that everything will all work out.
Emerson’s mother’s eyes keep flashing before my own when she found out I was carrying multiples. She was scared for me. Terrified, really. It doesn’t take a scientist to know where that fear comes from.
What would my mother say if she were here?
Be patient, sweet one.
Or would she say fight? Stand up and take what you want and live your life. Your one wild and precious life. I wish so hard that she was here now. That I had a mother’s wisdom to guide me.
On the island, I had Grace. I wish I could go back there now. To believe that her remedy could be my saving grace.
Maybe the flower is a miracle cure, but it could take weeks to complete the testing. Am I supposed to sit around and hope something happens when there is information my father has that we aren’t brave enough to go get? What if the magic elixir he has concocted needs to be taken before the tenth week, the twelfth? The twentieth? What if we’ve passed that mile marker and are already too late?
I press my hands to my belly. I want to live, I want to watch my babies grow. Thrive. I don’t want them to grow up like I did. Like so many children do these days -- motherless.
And I won’t sit idly by because my husbands have done the cost analysis on the situation and it’s all too high.
I love them, I do. But they are not mothers. They are not the women who will die at the hands of a scientific epidemic.
But I am.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, I strengthen my resolve.
I will be a survivor, or I’ll die trying.
What I need is an ally. Someone willing to take a risk.
Pacing my bedroom, I run my hands through my hair, feeling unsettled. I know what I need to do, where I need to go, but how, exactly, do I get there?
A knock on my door startles me, and when I pull it open I’m surprised to see Huxley standing there, his face pinched with frustration and anxiety.
“Hey,” he says. “Mind if I come in?”
“Of course not,” I say, opening the door wider, and letting him in, honestly unsure of what he is after.
Even now, Huxley is such a mystery. Not like Banks, who held his emotions in and concealed his brutal past, but in an I have shady stuff going on kind of way.
I never have any idea what he is really thinking.
But I’d like that to change.
“So, that was intense,” he says, taking my hand and leading me to my bed. We sit on the edge of it and I groan at the memory.
“I know.”
He runs the pads of his thumbs under my eyes. “You’ve been crying.”
“I must look a mess.”
“You look hot.” His mouth twists in a crooked smile.
I tilt my head and give him an eye roll. “Hot mess is more like it. This pregnancy makes me emotional and angry and--”
“Stop.” He cuts me off. “You’re being way too hard on yourself. It’s okay to lose your shit every once in a while.”
I fall back on the bed, and Hux does too. Our fingers lace together and we turn on our sides, facing one another.
“It’s a lot of men to handle.”
He chuckles. “You’re doing a good job.”
“I don’t know.” I think about all my men. “Fallon is really upset.”
“He loves you.” Huxley tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear and his touch is warm and wanted. “He’s scared.”
My voice catches “I know. I am too.”
“We all show our fear in different ways. People need a chance to cool down. Most of the time they come around.”
“I hope so.” The idea of Fallon angry with me for much longer would be painful to accept. A tear falls from my eye, and Hux wipes it away with his thumb.
“Hey, look at me, baby,” he says, easing me closer to him. Our noses touch, making me smile despite everything. In a whisper, he says, “Let me help you.” He nudges his lips to mine, ever so softly. “Let me take you to get the file.”
He kisses me again, harder this time, and my leg drapes over him, his words penetrating my heart. He is the ally I need.
His hand is on the base of my neck, another on my breast. Our mouths open as the kiss intensifies. I pull back.
“You mean it?” I pant.
He nods. His eyes are locked on mine. “Yes. I’d do anything for you. Anything to make sure you survive. Anything, Tia.”
There’s an intensity to his words that startle me. And I believe him.
His mouth is back on mine and it doesn’t take long before our clothes are discarded on the floor and Huxley is sinking into me.
I moan against his lips, reveling in the feel of his cock opening me. My pussy clenches around him, and with each hard thrust, pleasure grows, expanding until I’m riding an orgasm that makes my limbs shake.
“Huxley,” I cry out, feeling his hot seed spilling inside of me.
There’s a knock on the door.
“Fuck off,” Hux growls out, his body going limp above mine, his mouth pressed against my neck.
“I need to speak to you both.” It’s Emerson’s voice that echoes from the hallway.
Huxley mutters a curse and rolls off me, but not before kissing me hard one more time. He doesn’t bother getting dressed before he opens the door.
Emerson shuts it behind him when he walks in. “Mind putting some clothes on?” His words are meant for Huxley, who just grins at him, but doesn’t make any move to get dressed.
I find my own clothes, and start to slide my panties back on. “What do you want to talk about?”
“I’m leaving tomorrow.” Emerson’s gaze turns to Huxley. “You coming with me?”
Hux drags his fingers through his dark hair and nods. “Yeah. But the two of us aren’t going to be enough. I can hack into the system. Create fake ID cards. But unless we know where we’re going, what we’re looking for, the mission is pointless.”
They both look at me.
“I’m coming with you,” I say.
I expect some argument, but I get none.
“Fallon is going to lose his shit,” Hux says, but as he says the words, I see the glint of mischief in his eyes, and I wonder if he doesn’t enjoy pissing Fallon off.
I don’t want to create discord between the men I love but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to fight for what I want.
It’s not just me who needs to survive. It’s also the fragile lives of the six babies growing within me.
Chapter 10
Emerson
I hate deceiving the other men, but I know that they’d never allow us to leave if given a choice. Even I have doubts about bringing Tia along with us, but her part in this is necessary. And I’ll keep her safe.
Huxley did some research, and Tia’s father won’t be anywhere near Saint Augustine’s when we arrive. He’s not even in the same state. So as long as Hux can shut down the security system, which he seems almost overly confident that he can do, we should be able to get in and out of the building undetected.
The entire mission should take us no more than three, maybe four days.
Fallon left early this morning on a job that will keep him away for the next several nights. And Banks is so preoccupied with his research that I doubt he’ll notice we’re gone. Giles is finally healthy enough to be back at work and has been called to help out at the training facility for the next week.
The timing is perfect. Our only concern is Salinger.
“Where the hell are you going?” he asks, coming into my room and seeing me packing a bag.
“Back home,” I lie, flinching as I do. “I’m taking Tia and Huxley with me for a few days.”
“You just got back.” His dark eyes narrow on me.
The man is a human lie detector, and I’ve haven’t had much experience twisting the truth.
I know right away he’s onto me.
“And why the fuck is H
uxley going with you? I saw his bags by the front door and he’s acting shady as hell.”
I shrug and turn my back to him. “Tia did well there. The fresh air is good for the babies. And Banks asked me to get some more of the flowers.” Another lie. I keep my eyes averted.
“Bullshit,” Sal says, walking around the bed. “Tell me what’s going on, or I call the others.”
God, I hate lying.
“Nothing is going on. I already told you--”
He’s in my face, hand fisted in my shirt. I’m bigger than him, and with my training, I could have him flattened on the ground in seconds, but I see the motivation for his actions in his eyes -- fear.
“We don’t need any more lies between us,” he growls out.
I know he’s right. But I’ll do what I have to do in order to save my wife.
“You want to protect Tia?” I ask.
“Stupid fucking question.” He doesn’t release me.
“Then let me go. I’ll keep her safe.”
“You’re going to try and get those files, aren’t you?”
I sigh and peel his fingers away. “Yes.”
“Christ.” He drags his hand through his hair and starts to pace. “You’re going to lead our wife straight into the slaughterhouse. Are you insane?”
“If there’s something in those files that can help Tia, I have to try.”
“Then go yourself. But leave Tia here.”
“No. I’m going with them,” Tia says from the door, a duffle bag slung over her shoulder, chin jutted defiantly. “Please don’t try and stop me.”
She walks in looking so unstoppable and I know Sal is a fool to try to change our wife’s mind. When she decides something, she is absolute. It’s one of the things I love most about her.
Sal takes four long strides to meet her and cups her jaw. “If anything happens to you, I’ll--”
“I know. You all keep saying that. But of all the dangers I’ve faced or will face, the scariest is this pregnancy. And no matter what you say, I’m going to fight with every breath I have to make sure our children are okay.”
Then take the damn flower, I want to scream. But that’s an argument for another day.
“Banks is close to learning how to balance the antibodies and hormones. If this last piece of the puzzle is what he needs to save our babies--”
“To save our wife,” I add, which gets me a glare from Salinger.
“Then I have to help get it.” She leans up and kisses him, despite the way his jaw tenses. “Em and Hux will keep me safe.”
He breathes out roughly, mutters a string of curses, then says, “Fine, but I’m coming with you.”
She shakes her head. “Stay here and placate the others.”
“You want me to lie?” His features tighten, and he looks ready to snap.
I understand his apprehension. If Tia asked me to do the same thing, I don’t know how I’d respond. But Salinger has a history of layering lies, and if anyone in this house could cover our tracks, it’s him.
“We’ll be back in a few days. The others don’t even need to know I’m gone. And if they ask, just tell them I went back to Em’s family farm.”
Salinger breathes out heavily. “This is a terrible fucking idea, you know that?”
“Maybe,” she says fervently. “But it’s the only one we have.”
Chapter 11
Tia
The skill in which Emerson handles the rough Pacific waters amazes me. Huxley and I try to stay upright as waves crash against the side of the boat, but Emerson looks like Poseidon himself, his legs steady, body poised like the boat isn’t taking on the largest waves I’ve ever seen.
I forget his Norse ancestry for a moment and only see him as a Greek god battling the ocean like he was born from the salty depth.
His long hair whips frantically around his face, and his turquoise eyes remain fixed on the watery expanse in front of him.
Huxley, on the other hand, looks like he’s going to be sick. I don’t feel a hundred percent myself, but the myosotis parviflora tea that Em insisted, no demanded, I drink before we departed has helped. Morning sickness combined with seasickness, and I should be violently ill.
But I’m not.
While I’m still not convinced that the plant holds a miracle cure for my pregnancy, I am starting to wonder if it doesn’t hold some medicinal properties.
Plants were the first drugs used. Even primitive people knew the power that nature provided.
Chamomile, echinacea, lavender. They each can ease different ailments and discomforts. But herbal remedies were never considered while I was growing up at Saint Augustine’s. There, the only cures are synthetic.
Maybe as a species, we’ve gone so far to the left, we’ve forgotten the right. That before laboratories there were apothecary shops, mortar and pestle ground cures collected from the Earth.
There is no doubt that the myosotis parviflora has helped with my nausea.
Could it help with more?
Huxley teeters from side to side as he makes his way below deck.
“You should go down with him,” Emerson shouts above the howling wind. “There’s a storm coming in.”
“You’re okay up here by yourself?”
He gives a small grin, and a shake of his head like he can’t believe I just asked that question. “I’ll be fine.”
I kiss his cheek before following Huxley below. He’s on his phone when I enter the small bedroom, but he ends the call when he sees me.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“Yeah. Just making some arrangements for when we dock.” He groans and reaches for the wall to steady himself as the boat rocks.
“Why don’t you sit down,” I say, seeing his face turn a shade of gray.
He grunts. “I’m fine.”
The boat rocks again and this time, even I lose my footing.
“You need to sit down,” Hux says, capturing me around the waist, and helping me sit on the bed.
I relax in his arms, somehow managing to fall asleep, but when I wake, it’s to shouting.
“Huxley,” Emerson’s voice carries from above. “Get up here.”
Hux frowns at me, before shifting off the bed and heading up to the top deck.
The waves continue to beat against the boat, and I can hear them yelling above.
“The water is too rough to dock,” Emerson shouts when I poke my head up, water splashing over the side of the boat and soaking both of my husbands to the core. “Stay below deck.”
I want to help, but I know this is one area that I’m useless.
“Can we dock over there where the lights are?” Hux screams through the whipping winds.
Em shakes his head. “That’s the coast guard.”
Part of our mission means coming onto the mainland undetected.
Before I have time to turn around and make my way back below deck, a giant wave blankets the boat, sending me flying backward.
“Tia,” Em screams. “Huxley, help her. I can’t let go of the wheel.”
Huxley is beside me almost instantly, helping me up as we’re doused with another cold shower of salty water that leaves me sputtering and the floor of the boat flooded with water.
“I have to take us in,” Em screams. “Brace yourselves. It’s going to be rough.”
Hux surrounds me, keeping me steady as Em fights the ocean to get us safely to shore.
There’s a sickening crunch as the boat jolts to a stop. And when Huxley leads me upstairs I know that the sound was rocks ripping apart the side of the vessel.
Emerson is immediately on me, large hands fumbling down my arms, my face, my body. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re sure?”
I nod. “But the boat?”
He glances over at Hux and grimaces. “We’ll figure it out.”
Huxley looks down at his phone and starts scrolling. “We’re twenty miles north of the city. I have a guy coming to pick us up.�
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Emerson finds blankets, which he wraps around my shoulders as we wait on the beach for the ride that will take us into town. I try to ignore the knot of worry in my belly. Just how many people does Huxley know?
It doesn’t take long before we’re in a warm car, with thick, dark windows. Huxley sits in the front next to his contact, and in the back, Emerson wraps his arms around me. “Maybe this was a mistake,” he mutters. “If something had happened to you…”
I bury my face in his chest, shivering from the cold. “Don’t,” I whisper. “Don’t doubt the plan now.”
“Tia, you could have been thrown overboard.”
“I wasn’t though, was I?”
He kisses the top of my head and I hear the fast beating of his heart. He is scared in ways I’m not. I swallow, doubting my motives, wondering if I am pushing the men I love too far. Maybe I’m leading my gentle lion astray, forcing him to take me to a dark jungle when he should stay at the water’s edge.
Before I can say anything more, the car stops in front of a luxurious, five-star hotel. I remember being here once before, for a gala honoring my father’s achievements. Lawson was my date that night. He gripped my arm as he led me around the ballroom as if I was his property. Because I was his property. But those memories mean nothing to me, I no longer feel small because of the way they treated me. I don’t need them. I never did. Now I know true, unconditional love. My husbands will protect me until the bitter end.
Still, when Huxley takes my hand as we exit the car, I duck my head, letting my still-wet hair cover my eyes. If my father hears that I am here, I don’t doubt that he would kidnap me, force me into his laboratories. Test my fetuses until he gets what he wants.
Exhausted and cold, as soon as we’re in the hotel room that Huxley procured, I go into the bathroom, ignoring the ornate, heated marble floors. Unfazed by the lush towels and bathrobes. No amount of wealth can buy me what I am after.
What I have always been after.
Freedom.
My husbands are in the living room, discussing what they should do with the boat, but my mind is too exhausted to help them formulate the next step. I strip down, then step under the warm spray of water in the shower.