by Charlie Hart
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.” A smile pulls at my lips. “This one is Beth.” After my sister. I glance at the toddler in Jefferson’s arms and hope that what I’m about to say is all right with him and Fallon. “And that one is Caroline.”
There’s a small moment of silence before Jefferson chokes out, “I think those are great names.”
Fallon gives a hard nod, catching my gaze in the mirror. “Very good names.”
Chapter 9
Tia
I admit to feeling a little anxious when Salinger calls and tells me to get ready to leave. It’s been an exhausting few weeks and at least here in Miriam’s bunker I know I’m safe.
“I just got settled in, Sal. I thought I was staying longer. I’m actually just sitting down for breakfast.” I look across the table where Miriam is sitting. She is pretending to concentrate on her yogurt parfait, but I know she’s listening to every word I exchange with her son.
“I know, but things have been dealt with sooner than we expected.”
“My father--” I choke on my words. “He’s dead?”
Miriam’s head shoots up and she gives me a strange look. Knowing it is pointless to try and have a private conversation, knowing she’ll pry out of me everything Sal said anyways, I put the phone on speaker.
“No. Not that,” Salinger’s voice falters. “I mean, he came, he left, no one died. But things got complicated.”
“What kind of complicated?”
“Complicated like Hux, Fal, and his dad left on a late night mission to get his nieces.”
“Oh God,” I say, gripping my spoon. “Is everyone--”
“Everyone is fine. They’re on their way home now. Their plane landed a few minutes ago. We thought you’d want to come home to be with the girls. They’ll need you. They’ve been institutionalized their entire lives and--”
“We understand,” Miriam says, reaching across the table and taking my hand. “We’ll be there in thirty minutes.”
“Mom?” Salinger asks confused. “Is that you?”
“Of course it is,” she says briskly.
I bite back a smile, not wanting to get between mother and son.
Miriam continues, “I may be running the show in Alaska, but you kids are going to need some help running that household.”
When I walk inside the compound, I’m taken aback by how beautiful Huxley’s nieces are.
Two little girls, alive, here, in our home. They are miracle babies.
Girls don’t survive in this world. Yet, here they are. Against all odd.
“Are you upset?” Huxley asks as I walk past my other husbands, needing to wrap my arms around him.
He has the older of the two in his arms, and she clutches at him, caramel brown hair in tangles around her heart-shaped face. She blinks at me with large brown eyes. She looks like her uncle and that makes me smile.
“Why would I be mad?” I ask holding his gaze.
“Because I put my life and the lives of Fallon and his father at risk.”
Emerson pipes in. “Yeah, and aren’t you glad you did?”
“I’m not mad,” I say, looking back at Huxley. “I’m proud of you.”
Looking around the room, I realize Grace and Charles are here as well.
Emerson shrugs. “They chartered a boat over the moment they heard the word babies.”
I shake my head, taking in the outpouring of support over Huxley’s nieces. Maybe we all needed the reminder that in midst of so much death, life does go on. I give Grace a quick squeeze before turning my attention back to the little ones.
“Let me see these girls,” Miriam says as Salinger pushes her wheelchair into the living room. She hardly ever leaves her bunker, so her being here means a lot. “What are their names?”
“This is Beth,” Hux says looking at the girl on his hip. “And the little one is Caroline,” he says pointing to the toddler with slightly darker hair, who is playing on the floor with a pot and spatula. A man who looks like an older version of Fallon sits on the floor beside her.
He must be Jefferson, Fallon’s father. Salinger mentioned that he went with the men on the mission to rescue the girls.
I bite my bottom lip, seeing the burly, hulk of a man, who has had such a hard time with Fallon’s unconventional family, sitting there playing with the little one. He already looks smitten.
“This is going to be a big change,” Fallon says, coming up behind me and wrapping me in his arms.
I lean back into him. “A good change, though.”
Huxley smiles at me and I swear there are tears in the man’s eyes. When did my husband get so emotional?
Suddenly a thousand thoughts are streaming through my head. We were just wrapping our minds around having six babies, and now we are the parents of two toddlers as well.
I have so much to figure out and not much time to do it. I press a hand to my belly, thinking about where the girls will sleep. We need clothes for them, and everything else that a two and four-year-old needs. I have no clue what that even is.
“There you go again, getting anxious,” Banks says, handing me a glass of water and a granola bar. He has gotten so good at anticipating my needs.
The doorbell rings and out of the corner of my eye I see that the Director has come over as well. I swallow, feeling like the house is getting a little more full than I’m used to.
“I was just thinking about what we need in order to take care of the girls,” I say, sitting on the couch, squeezing Banks’ hand as I take a sip of water.
“I’m Jefferson,” the man who is sitting on the floor with Caroline says, reaching out to shake my hand. “Fallon’s father.”
“I figured. You have the same eyes.”
He gives me a small smile. “I’m sorry we’ve never met before now. I’ve had a hard time figuring out my thoughts on this whole thing.”
I frown, knowing the strain on his and Fallon’s relationship after his son married me. Knowing how hard it’s been on Fallon, not having his father’s support. All these months we’ve been married, and never once has he come here to meet me.
“This whole thing meaning the population crisis or is it the idea of your son sharing his wife that kept you from coming around?” Maybe my words are a little too harsh, and I regret them instantly. “Sorry,” I mutter. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No. He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Tia. You’re right. I’m a selfish man who let both, fear of the unknown and regret for the past, rule my choices.”
I appreciate his candor. “And now?”
“Now?” He smiles, shaking his head, the same glimmer of hope in his eye that I see when I look at Fallon. “Now, I’m hoping for a second chance.”
Hux laughs softly, sitting beside me. “Aren’t we all, Jefferson? Aren't we all?”
While Em’s mom, Grace, decides to wrangle the girls into a bath, Huxley and I get in his truck and head into town for the ridiculously long list of supplies we need. Over lunch, everyone at the compound sat around thinking up a thousand items we needed now that we lived with two tiny girls. How a pair of toddlers could require so much gear is beyond me, but I didn’t argue.
I did argue when Fallon tried to make me lie down and have a nap. I may be carrying sextuplets, but right now I still feel like myself, and I know I only have a couple months left before my body becomes not my own. Plus, I want a few minutes alone with Huxley. I want to know what’s going on in his head, how he’s feeling, and since I can’t get a second to myself in the compound with all those people around, I practically begged Hux to take me with him.
“Are you all right?” Huxley asks as we back out of the driveway.
“I needed out of the house for a moment. It’s a lot to take in.”
“I know having two children around is going to be a lot of work, but I don’t expect you--”
“Don’t talk like that. I’m so glad Caroline and Beth are with us. Believe me on that. It’s just...” Insecurities make my
stomach twist. “I have literally zero experience with kids. Babies. Any of it. I’m feeling a little nervous is all. And in a few months, we’ll have six more. Six, Hux. That’s…”
“A lot?”
“Yeah,” I say softly, looking out the window as we pass the security checkpoint. “I’m safe leaving the compound?” I didn’t really think about it until I saw the guards. Sometimes I forget what a messed up world we live in.
Huxley nods, reaching over and squeezing my thigh. “We’re safe. Your father is in Seattle. And we’re going straight to my shop, then right home.”
I exhale, rolling down the window. It’s still brisk out, but the fresh air feels good on my skin.
“Was my dad intimidating?” I ask, keeping my eyes on the mountains in the distance, my hand reaching for Huxley's.
“He was exactly like I expected.” His words are tight.
“When I think of him at the compound, being in our home, it makes my skin crawl, Hux.”
“I know. It makes me want to leave this whole damn town. Move to the island and build a life that isn’t corrupt.”
“Oh, yeah?” I ask, looking at him in surprise. “You’d leave the shop and the brothel?”
“Yeah, I would. In a fucking heartbeat.” His jaw clenches and I see the worry in his eyes.
“What is it?” I ask, knowing something is eating away at him. I roll up the window, turning toward him.
“We won’t be able to stay at the compound long, Tia. No one is safe unless your father is dead.”
“We can’t just keep running to Miriam’s bunker every time we get word my dad is back. Soon we’ll have eight children. Eight. Eventually, the island won’t even be safe. He’ll find us anywhere, Hux.”
“I know,” he says gravely. “That’s why I have to kill him.” His hand grips mine so tightly, I think he’s going to bruise my skin. I don’t care. I know he carries so much guilt for putting us in this position. I hate what it’s doing to him.
I brush the falling tears from my eyes. “Every moment there’s an ounce of joy to be found, it’s stolen away just as fast.”
“I know,” he says, his breath shallow. When I look up at him, I see tears falling from his eyes. “The lab was so bad, Tia,” he says catching me off guard. “I went in alone last night. Fal and Jefferson stayed on watch. I spared them the pain of the women’s cries… the babies… the horror.”
“But you saw it all again,” I whisper, understanding why he is so torn up right now. He blames himself for every woman in my father’s lab.
He pulls the truck over to an empty lot, squeezing back the tears. He kills the engine and I move my body on the bench seat of the truck, needing him to hear me.
“It’s not your fault, Hux. It’s not. You’re not the monster. My father is, you were just--”
“I was just a greedy fucking fool.”
“No,” I say, the tears covering my cheeks. “You were lost. But Hux, you’re not lost anymore. Now you’re found.” I pull his body to mine, needing to hold him, to touch him, to remind him that we are still here; that we are still okay.
He falls apart in my arms. “I was scared I’d be too late. That the girls would have--”
“I know,” I say, my hands on his face, our noses touching, our hearts pounding. “But they are perfect, Huxley. They are survivors, and so are we.”
I can taste his salty tears as they roll down his face, and I pull his lips to mine, not wanting him to drown in his sorrow alone. My lips part, searching him out, and as our tongues entwine, his heart unfurls, his arms wrap around me, dragging me to him.
The truck becomes our safe place, our shelter from the world at large. Here, we are alone, and we get lost in one another’s arms. He pulls me on top of him, the bench seat our bed, my skin hot, the windows steamed as I pull off my top, unhook my bra, offer him my body because right now there is nothing else to give.
God, I want to stay here forever, mending Huxley’s broken heart one kiss at a time.
“I love you, Tia.” His battered eyes meet mine, and I kiss him harder, biting his lip, breaking the skin, desperate and needy for him to know I’m here. For him to know that I am his. He growls, brushing my hair from my face, kissing my ear, my neck, my breasts.
I push down his jeans, pull off my pants, grinding against his length, my body his to own. I want him to lose himself in my skin.
He won’t forgive himself yet, but I can show him that his sins can be washed away with our love. It’s strong enough for that. It’s strong enough for anything.
Straddling him, I sink down, taking him into me, and his fingers dig into my hips, leading us both home. I lean down, giving him desperate kisses, his bruised lips heavy against mine. His cock is deep inside of me, and I feel my core tighten as he delivers us both from the pain of our past.
“You’re too good for me,” he whispers, as I cling to him, my fingers threading through his hair as we move in a desperate rhythm.
“Stop it, Hux,” I beg my husband. “Take my love, take it all.”
And he does. As he releases inside me, a dam breaks free. Our eyes peer into one another’s souls and I know he can see that my words are more than empty promises. My love is unconditional, there are no strings attached.
“Thank you,” he breathes against me as we finish, our bodies slick with sweat and hearts dripping with emotion.
I look down at the man who is willing to risk it all. A man who is brave in ways I can’t bear to be.
“You are more than the sum of your mistakes, Hux.”
“Tia,” he whispers. “If I’m forgiven, then so are you.”
I fall against him, not realizing just how badly I needed to those words too. I’ve made so many mistakes, lied and ran and hid and let fear rule my heart.
But that is not my whole story, just like it isn’t Huxley’s.
We may not be able to change the past, but together, we can build a future.
Chapter 10
Huxley
When we get to the shop, I pull out my phone so we can look at the list of items we need. Tia’s fingers wrap tightly around mine, and every time I catch her eyes, my heart skips a beat. It’s like that first-love butterflies I’ve heard people talk about has finally hit. Something happened in that truck today.
I fell in love with my wife all over again.
“This is so much stuff,” she says, looking at my phone screen. “Do you think you have all this?”
“Not all of it. But I’ll place a rush order. I bet we can get it from the mainland tomorrow. Some of this is here though, like the bedding and food. And I’ll get some of my guys to help. They can load the truck for us.”
“Thanks,” she says, resting her head on my shoulder. “Let’s get this done and then get food before we go home. I’m starved.”
I lift my eyebrows, giving her a smirk. “I bet I know why.” We share a secret smile, and I exhale, feeling like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders.
An hour later, we’re sitting in a booth in a pub downtown with burgers and fries. Tia is groaning in pleasure with each bite and I laugh, appreciating her presence. So much of my work is secretive, dealing with the underbelly of society, where I’m the bad guy who runs a black market. But when I’m with my wife, it’s like a fog has been lifted. I’m not the enemy when I’m with her, I’m the partner.
“Did you see that?” she asks frowning, pointing out the window beside our booth. “I swear...” She squints, then shakes her head. “I swear it was Helene.”
I look, a tightening in my chest, but I don’t see anyone. “You sure?”
“She was right there, on the sidewalk.” Tia is moving to stand, heading toward the door.
I pull her back. “I don’t see anyone.”
If she was out there, I’m not letting her go to see. Especially, not when I’m still unsure if one of the guards with Thorne was the guy Helene showed up at our house with. There’s a prickling at the back of my head. A warning. But why the hell would
Helene be working with that bastard?
Tia eases slightly and lets me guide her back to the booth. “Maybe I’m just paranoid. It’s been a long few days.”
I nod, even though I’m not sure she is being paranoid. But I murmur, “God knows you have reason to be on edge.” I don’t want to alert her unless I know I have reason to. But I know it’s time to get her back home.
“I don’t trust her,” Tia says, looking back out the window at the empty sidewalk.
“Me either. But honestly, there could be a hundred reasons why she’s in town.” I don’t add that I am more confident now that Helene’s bodyguard was with Thorne when he came to the compound. Instead, I place some bills on the table and take Tia’s hand. “We should get you back. They guys will be worried.”
And I need to talk to the husbands. Stat.
If Helene is here and she’s working with the bastard, it doesn’t take Banks and his fucking science to tell me that Thorne might be closer than we think.
The compound is abuzz when we return, and I’m grateful that Miriam and Grace are here to help.
Tia joins the women in the kitchen, as the men and I begin to unload the truck.
“Did everything go okay in town?” Giles asks as we bring boxes into the house.
“For the most part,” I say, remembering the time we shared in the truck. It was the best sex of my goddamn life. Not that I’ll mention that to these guys. We may share a wife, but some things don’t need to be shared in detail. “But Tia thinks she saw Helene.”
“Shit, really?” Emerson asks, coming up behind us.
I nod. “She backtracked, thinking she was paranoid but…”
“But Tia is smart. She has good instincts and can remember a face,” Banks says, bringing in the last of the load.
“Exactly.” Then I tell them about the bodyguard, and Banks nods, confirming my suspicion.
“I thought the same thing but didn’t want to jump to conclusions.”
“Shit,” Salinger says. “I can head to the State Department with my father and look into it. Someone will be able to track them down for us if they’re here in town.”
