by Charlie Hart
The Wife Gamble
Six Men of Alaska
Charlie Hart
Chantel Seabrook
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Continue the Journey
About the Author
Also by Chantel Seabrook
About the Author
Also by Charlie Hart
Blurb
She trusts him with her secrets… but can she trust him with her heart?
In a world where everyone struggles for survival, Tia is no exception. Enemies are on to her, and she won’t be able to keep her husbands safe forever.
For two of her men, it might already be too late.
When Tia’s secret is revealed, she has no choice but to trust Salinger with her life.
But he has secrets too.
Confiding in one another brings them closer than ever but something still stands in their way.
Salinger must gamble with the truth in order to save the woman he loves.
The Wife Gamble is book three in a six-book dystopian romance series. One wife, six husbands, a chance to change everything… if they can only learn to get along in this brave new world.
Chapter 1
Tia
Blindfolded and confused, my fingers tighten around Salinger’s hand. He sits beside me. and the tension in his body is palpable, the silence deafening. His last words to me before his father ordered him to cover my eyes, repeat in my head - his mother.
It seems like I’m not the only one who has secrets. For nearly two months I’ve lived in the compound with my husbands, and Salinger never mentioned that his mother was still alive. Or, that she was the person responsible for creating the Lottery.
If she’s so important, why haven’t I met her, or even heard about her?
Salinger leans towards me, and whispers, “It’ll be okay.”
I want to believe him. But can I trust anyone? My mind retraces my interaction with him. He never wanted to marry me, or to enter the Lottery. He’s been angry with me for weeks and has held it against me at every opportunity. And now I’m just supposed to believe him when he says it’ll be okay?
Still, he is the only person here who knows a thing about me. And as his fingers lace with mine, I have to hold onto the only shred of hope I have left. That he is on my side, for better or worse. Till death do us part.
I’m not sure how much time passes, but it’s long enough that when I’m finally allowed to take the blindfold off, I see we’re in some sort of military compound that seems to have been dug into the side of a mountain. Or maybe it’s underground. I can’t tell by the rock formations that create an uneven arc above us.
Shivering as I get out of the car, I hold on tightly to Salinger’s hand and let him lead me towards a white dome-like structure guarded by two armed men.
Salinger’s jaw twitches as the door opens and we’re escorted through. The Director walks behind us, his own tension almost palpable.
The first room we’re led through is some sort of tech room, with men typing furiously, working through code that even I can’t decipher. I glance up at Salinger questioningly, but his gaze remains focused on the next door in front of us. He gives my fingers a tight squeeze, which doesn’t give me a lot of faith in his earlier comment that everything will be all right.
My brows shoot up when we walk through the next door and find a cozy, elegantly decorated sitting room. A woman sits in a wheelchair on one side of the room, her profile to us as she types something on a keyboard with one hand. Slim and still attractive, a silver braid hanging halfway down her back, hints at her advancing years. She doesn’t turn toward us, just gives a sharp command, “Sit.”
Even the Director obeys, taking a seat in one of the three armchairs that seem to have been set up specifically for our arrival.
Sitting in the middle of the two men, I try to calm my erratic heartbeat.
Who is this woman who commands these two men with such authority?
After a few long moments, the woman uses a device on her chair to turn toward us. It’s then I see that one side of her face is slack, the left side of her mouth drawn down as if she had a stroke.
Her gaze locks on mine and she studies me with clear, brown eyes. “So, you’re my son’s wife.”
This is Salinger’s mother.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I say, realizing right away that it’s important to win this woman’s favor. But it isn’t acceptance I see in her expression, it’s suspicion mixed with curiosity.
“I would have brought you here sooner if I’d known he had married,” she says, glaring between her son and his father accusingly. Her words are only slightly disjointed despite her impediment. “I’m offended I wasn’t there. I suppose you don’t care about your mother’s feelings though, do you, Salinger?”
“Mother, I--”
She raises her one good hand, the other one lays limp in her lap. “What’s done is done.” Her gaze falls back to me. “But it seems as if your new family is already in some trouble. One of your husbands has been arrested for murder.”
“How do you know that, Miriam?” the Directors asks, sitting upright. “That’s classified information.”
“Mosby,” she says, looking at her husband. “After all these years, you should know nothing you do passes my notice.”
He grunts and leans back, but I see a hint of fear in his eyes. It’s shocking, seeing his jaw tense. He is such a commanding presence, but next to Salinger’s mother he seems weaker somehow. She’s the one who is really in control.
Do other people know this?
“Giles is innocent,” I say quickly, causing all three sets of eyes to jerk to me.
Miriam raises a brow. “Is that so?”
“He was trying to protect me.”
“Tia,” Salinger warns.
I ignore him, knowing whoever this woman is, I have no doubt she has the power to help me.
“I ran away from the compound. The three men who...” I swallow past the lump in my throat, the one I get whenever I think about the man I shot. “They attacked me, and I killed one of them.”
“Fuck,” Salinger mutters, dragging his fingers through his shaggy blond hair, then stands abruptly and paces behind the chairs.
Even the Director looks shocked at my confession.
“If it’s in your power, I ask you to let him go free. It’s me who should be behind bars.”
Salinger growls out more curses behind me and I can hear him pacing.
His mother tilts her head. “You’d sacrifice your own life for this man?”
“He isn’t just a man; he’s my husband. And yes, I’d give my own life for any of them.”
The silence stretches through the room.
Finally, the woman asks, “Then why did you come to Alaska? What were you running from?”
Confession time. There’s no turning back now. Either this woman helps me, helps Giles, or all hope is lost.
“People are looking for me. Men of power. I knew if they found me, they wouldn’t just take me back. They’d kill anyone who tri
ed to stop them.”
The Director lets out a low breath. “So, you are her?”
Salinger sounds like he’s about to have a coronary, and it’s a good thing I can’t see his face because I’m not sure I’d have the strength to admit what I’m about to if I could. Not to these people.
“What is your name, child?” Miriam asks.
I square my shoulders and give them the same answer I gave Salinger minutes before his father arrived to take us here, “Christina Thorne. My father is Warren Thorne and before I arrived here, I was promised to Lawson Jefferson as his wife.”
This time it’s the Director’s turn to curse. “So, it’s true.”
“That is a problem,” Miriam says after a brief pause, her disgust at the truth practically tangible. Her face wears a tight frown.
Shame courses through me. My father is treated like royalty in the US, but Alaska has removed themselves from the lower forty-eight. Maybe here, my name is more than a name to be feared.
Maybe it’s a name people abhor.
Or maybe it’s Lawson everyone hates. His life’s work is pushing bills through Congress that make the rich richer. Either way, I know my name has done little to win any favors from the woman.
And why would it? I brought trouble here, to her son, and if she chooses to help me, to her as well.
“I didn’t mean to put anyone at risk,” I say.
“But that’s exactly what you did by coming here.” There’s no judgment in her words, only stating the cold, hard fact.
I nod, accepting responsibility for my actions. All of them. And knowing that she will most likely send me back to the men I ran from. I’d do the same thing if I was in her position. Six lives for one. Her son’s life for my own. It’s what’s best for everyone.
With a heavy sigh, she says, “I’d do anything to protect my son--”
“And I’d do anything to protect my wife,” Salinger cuts in roughly, coming beside me, and taking my hand.
My heart, which had been beating wildly in my chest, stops momentarily as his words sink in. Words I’d expect from Fallon and Giles, maybe even Emerson, but not from Salinger.
I see the shock in his father’s eyes; the curiosity in his mother’s.
“You love this woman?” she asks her son.
Salinger doesn’t pause, just says, “Yes. And she is bound to me by law, protected under the Act you created. I won’t let you send her away.”
“She poses a threat to everything we’ve fought for,” the Director barks out.
“She represents everything we’ve fought for,” his mother says quietly, pensively.
“If she stays, she’ll be prosecuted for murder.” Salinger’s father stands, his dark gaze sharp as it cuts into me. “That is the law.”
“Mosby, sit down and stop trying to scare the girl.”
“Miriam--”
“I said, sit down.”
He does, and I can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips. I already love this woman, and I barely know her.
And even with my doubt, there is another feeling rising in my chest.
Longing.
I’ve never known the love of a mother. Never had a woman tuck me in at night, wash my clothes, or braid my hair. Not out of obligation, but out of love. I’ve never had a woman watch after me who wasn’t paid. This wasn’t even a part of me I thought I was missing. It isn’t until now, seeing Salinger’s mother appearing so concerned with her son, that I realize that there is a hole in my heart that has never been filled.
“I’ll face whatever charges are laid,” I tell them. “And if you plan on sending me back, I’ll accept that too, without a fight. I just ask that Giles is released. He’s been sick, and--”
“He’ll survive,” the Director says cruelly, his lips pulling back over his teeth, and I see something flash in his eyes. Salinger must see it too because his fingers tighten around mine.
“What did you do to him?” I ask, the words coming out on a shaky breath.
“Nothing he won’t recover from.”
“The more pressing matter is what we’re going to do with you,” Miriam says.
“But Giles--”
“Will have a fair trial,” she says. “He’s already confessed to the crimes--”
“But he didn’t do it.”
She sighs. “Your husband made a sacrifice for you. For our cause. You will honor that.”
“But--”
“You will honor that.” Her gaze is steady, unwavering, and I know I’ve lost before I’ve even started to fight.
Giles.
Tears burn the back of my eyes. “My father and Lawson, they won’t stop until they find me.”
“Then we better make sure they don’t find you.”
“Miriam,” the Director says. “We should discuss this.”
“No.” She tilts her chin at him. “We should have discussed you putting our son’s name in the Lottery. But you didn’t think to include me, or Salinger in that decision. Tell me why you did it.”
His jaw twitches. “Because it was time he settled down. We have a legacy to protect.”
She gives a small smile. “And that legacy is sitting beside you.”
My stomach drops because I know what they mean… babies.
“I saw the reports on her,” Miriam continues as if I’m not in the room. “You chose her because of her health and fertility. You and I both know she’s the best candidate that’s come through here in years. For all we know, she’s already pregnant.”
Salinger tenses.
A shiver runs down my spine and arms, making my fingers tingle.
No.
I’m not. I can’t be. I mean it is possible. But... no.
But that’s what I’m here for. The purpose of the Lottery. The reason Miriam is prepared to fight for me.
Because she thinks I’ll give her a grandchild.
Chapter 2
Salinger
Tia’s fingernails dig into my skin as she grips my hand more tightly. If I doubted her desire to bear children before, there is no question in my mind now. She’s practically drawing blood.
She knows getting pregnant is a death sentence.
But then, why enter the Lottery and increase your chances of getting knocked up?
It makes me realize I don’t actually know my wife at all.
Does anyone?
Christina Thorne. I glance down at her, studying the elegant lines of her face, the sharp, intelligent green eyes. Who are you?
“Now, shall we have a test before we say our goodbyes?” Mother asks her expression a cool, collected mask, void of emotions.
I blanch, chest tightening. I’ve always hated my mother’s games because she never played fair.
“What test?” I ask.
A sliver of a smile plays on her lips. “A pregnancy test. Isn’t that the entire--”
“No,” Tia speaks vehemently. “Absolutely not. I would never subject myself--”
“Ahh.” My mother leans back in her wheelchair, eying Tia more scrupulously. “You certainly have no trouble speaking your mind, do you?”
“I just…” Tia rubs her temple, collecting her thoughts. “I’m exhausted and the last thing I’m going to do is let my blood be drawn by a woman I’ve never met.”
“I wouldn’t do the draw,” she scoffs. “Listen to me, child. This is life or death. Wouldn’t you want to know the moment of conception? Wouldn’t that better your chances of survival?”
Tia looks ill, her face gone ashen white, her eyes glazed over.
“She needs to lie down,” I tell them. “We traveled with a fucking blindfold to your underground lair. It’s too much for her. She’s had a long day, she doesn’t need to be prodded and poked by your scientists.”
Mother dismisses my comments, waving her hand. “Maybe she’s tired because she’s with child.”
“No. I’m done for the day,” Tia says, straightening her back and looking at my mother dead on. “Either give us a room
for the night, or we need a driver to take us home.”
I raise my eyebrows, not knowing how my mother will respond to another woman who doesn’t know how to back down.
“Are you always so headstrong?” Mother asks.
Tia nods. “Always.”
The corner of my mother’s lip raises ever so slightly, and she offers my father a nod of concession. “You may have done wrong in not telling me your plan, Mosby. But you certainly know how to choose them.”
My father smirks, stepping toward her. “I don’t like weak women. I married you after all.”
I feel ill. My parents’ love-hate relationship confused me as a child and makes me nauseous even as an adult.
They may enjoy pushing one another to the breaking point and then reeling the other back in, but I don’t like those kinds of games. And I certainly won’t play them with Tia.
My wife needs to explain herself. To come clean, completely. She’s been lying since the moment we exchanged vows. And her father isn’t going to back down. God only knows the danger she’s in. That we’re all in.
Warren Thorne is a man of means, funded by a corrupt government and feasting on twisted experiments that exploit women.
I know my mother detests his practices. Hell, everyone in Alaska does. We all know the underground whispers of the mad scientist. How he supposedly injected ten women with pig semen to see if they would reject that too.
A shudder rolls down my back.
We saw the leaked photos of his female patients after going through several rounds of fertility treatments. The pictures showed the dead women’s swollen limbs, sunken eyes, skin so discolored and raw from the toxicity levels, that my stomach had heaved at the sight. He touted his experiment as successful, but how is it a success when the number of women we have is already so terrifyingly low? To sacrifice life in the name of science. It’s barbaric.
