Tia

The men barely talk to me. But I’m used to it by now. It’s been weeks since tension hasn’t ruled the house. Even in the small moments of reprieve, which usually revolve around sex, I can still feel the undercurrent of distrust from my husbands.

Everyone keeps to themselves. No one has tried to press the matter of my identity again, like they’ve given up, or don’t care. Which I know neither is true. It’s always when people are the quietest that you should be most concerned.

Giles has been gone for three days. Three long, worry-filled days.

Kate and Lilah came yesterday, asking where Giles went since they saw him in the government vehicle leaving our property. Rumors are circulating our neighborhood. The Director had given us a visit and that didn’t go unnoticed.

“Oh, it was nothing,” I say to them as I offer them cups of coffee and French macarons courtesy of Huxley. “My husband, Salinger, is the Director’s son.”

“So, it was a family visit?” Kate asks, taking a bite of a raspberry-filled cookie.

“Basically, yes.” I smile at them as brightly as I can muster. I’m grateful we’re still learning about one another. They don’t seem to know when I’m pretending.

“Oh, good,” Lilah says sincerely. “I was worried about you.” She reaches over and squeezes my hand. “There have been so many scary things happening. The woman on the wharf, the mercenaries that were found murdered.”

Kate twists her lips. “If it was a family visit, though, why did they take Giles?”

Shit, I guess Kate is the brighter one of the pair. I bide my time by taking another sip of the dark roast coffee. For my entire life, I relied on the women I lived with to look out for me, and me for them. We stuck together, trusting that we’d always be there for one another. It was one of the reasons I was able to risk escaping at all. I knew the women I lived with would cover for me as long as they were able.

Can I trust the women sitting with me now?

“You know, one of my husbands is in the military too,” Kate says pressing the issue. “And he says Giles has a past. That he had a lover who was murdered and that he went off the rails after-”

“Don’t talk like that.” My voice is raised, and I don’t mean to yell, but I can’t bear to listen to her talk like that about the man I love. Her eyes widen in alarm and she looks at Lilah as if worried I might be a little unhinged as well.

Of course, I am.

My family is a mess and I am in the middle of it.

“It wasn’t like that, Kate,” I say, running my hands through my hair, trying to collect myself. “Listen, I know we all came here for our own reasons, and I know you know I’m not who I say I am but…” I squeeze my eyes shut. “There’s no reason for you to have faith in me, to trust me, but we live in a world ruled by men. Men we love and men we fear. Don’t turn on me now, not after we’ve made it this far.”

Lilah nods, her eyes filling with tears. “My husbands don’t want me talking to you. I lied about coming here today, said I was at Kate’s and vice-versa.”

“Why did you risk seeing me then?”

Lilah gives me a sad smile and leans in closer. Even though we’re alone in the kitchen, it’s like we are all wondering who’s listening in. Were women always like this? Scared to speak their truth, to tell their story? Have women always walked on broken glass, just waiting for their feet to bleed, for their hearts to break?

Lilah whispers, “I’m falling for my husbands and I trust them, at least I think I do. But I know everyone carries secrets, and yours are safe with me. When you need me, I’m here.”

My chest tightens at her words. “Thank you, Lilah.” My shoulders shake, and I begin to cry. I have been keeping so much buried for so long.

Kate rubs my back. “It’s okay, Tia. I think everyone is a little on edge.” I search her eyes and try to gauge how much I can trust her. Lilah wears her heart on her sleeve, but Kate is more complicated.

“Last week,” she tells us. “I thought I was pregnant.”

Lilah and I both pull in a breath, her words terrifying and yet the only hope we have.

“I had this crazy moment of panic where I thought… I couldn’t go through with it. It’s too scary.” She covers her mouth and her eyes brim with tears. “We’ve grown up knowing our fate, that we would have to try at least to get pregnant. We are required to, there’s no question, right? Birth control doesn’t even exist.” I hand her a tissue, and she wipes under her eyes. “It shouldn’t be scary, our purpose is clear… but I want to live, you know?”

Pulling her into a hug, she cries against me. I smooth down her hair and she lets it all out.

I’m not the only one feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders.

“When I started my cycle I felt such relief,” she admits. “And that made me feel like a monster.”

“You’re not a monster, Kate,” I tell her. “We’re just trying to survive. All of us are.”

“Do you feel safe here?” Kate asks. “I’m scared for you.”

I sit up straighter, knowing the truth. “I’m safe here. My husbands will do anything to protect me. And maybe that’s the scariest thing of all - having a houseful of men who say they are on our side after a lifetime of living in a world where every man was against us.”

Kate and Lilah nod.

I feel sick to my stomach, trying to imagine all that they went through to get to Alaska. My story is so different than theirs, but it’s all the same in the end. Women being sold like cattle when we should be the treasure.

“Believe me when I say this,” I tell them, knowing it’s my duty to set them straight. “Giles is a good man. He was called into questioning for the mercenaries’ murders. But he will be home soon, I know without a shadow of a doubt he is innocent. If you hear anyone gossiping about us, please don’t add fuel to the fire. Please.”

After our confessions, I know I can trust them.

And in this world, that means a hell of a lot.

* * *

Later that evening, my husbands and I eat dinner in near silence, as everyone has so much on their minds. My earlier conversation with Lilah and Kate is running on repeat. I want to let my husbands in. To share all of me with them, but trust takes time.

I’m glad I escaped my life at Saint Augustine's, but I feel so ill-prepared to be the partner to six strong-willed men. I look around the table, thinking about the men I took vows with. They are men of Alaska, through and through. Rugged and full of raw emotions - every last one of them. Even Banks who comes from the Northeast has become wild at heart, though he tries to cover it up with suit coats and legalese, I’ve seen him at his core.

He is just as untamed as the rest of my husbands.

And my heart, it beats so hard for each of them. Tears fall from my eyes as we finish our meal, and while everyone assumes I’m crying over Giles, the truth at this moment is that I’m crying tears of gratitude. To be here with them at all is a gift.

After dinner, Emerson takes my dirty plate from my hands and retreats to the kitchen to clean up without a word. I have no idea where Salinger is, he’s been gone off and on since Giles was taken.

I know he’s been trying to find out information, but so far, he’s come up empty-handed. Banks and Huxley remain broody and won’t look at me as they excuse themselves from the dinner table.

Only Fallon has a soft word for me. “You look tired.”

“Haven’t been able to sleep,” I say, which isn’t exactly true. I can fall asleep, but I’m awakened throughout the night by nightmares of Giles screaming in agony, begging me to save him.

The not knowing, the waiting, is the worst. That and picturing my husband alone, and in pain.

Fallon pulls me into his arms and holds me. He doesn’t say anything, which I’m thankful for. Just lets me suck in a small amount of his strength.

I jolt in his arms when the front door slams shut, and Salinger’s echoed curses flow through the room.

Fear washes over me. Every time he comes home, I worry that he’s bringing bad news about Giles. And right now, he looks frantic.

“Tell us,” Fallon says when the others come into the room.

“I don’t know where they’re keeping him.” Salinger's hair sticks up at odd angles like he’s been tugging at it in frustration.

“Have you talked to your father?” Fallon asks.

“Of course, I have.” Salinger looks on the verge of snapping. Of all my men, he’s changed the most since we first came to the compound. He was the most easy-going of the six, always quick with a goofy grin and a flirtatious remark, but now he’s always angry and suspicious. And I know I’ve done that to him.

“And?” Fallon prods, when Salinger flops down on one of the couches and leans his head back, eyes closed.

“And we’re no closer to finding anything out than we were two days ago. He’s hiding things from me.”

“You’ve got access to confidential files, right?” Banks asks.

“Yes. But wherever they’re keeping Giles, it’s past my security level. All I know is that he was never brought to the prison.”

Emerson sits on the edge of the couch and lets out a deep breath. “I know no one wants to think this, but is there any way he was already handed over to the Universal Court?”

Salinger shakes his head. “There would have been some record.”

“He could be dead,” Huxley says, voicing my worst fear.

All the men turn and glare at him.

“He’s not,” I say softly. “He can’t be.”

Fallon squeezes my hand.

The silence stretches between us because we all know the truth, there are no certainties.

“I’m going to bed,” I whisper, turning away from the men.

No one tries to stop me, and I’m glad for it. I need my space. Need to process everything. Need to figure out what I’m going to do. I won’t run again. I promised my men I wouldn’t. But hell if it’s not one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, just staying here, knowing the man I love, my husband is suffering, and all alone.

I’m a few feet from my bedroom door when Salinger corners me in the hallway, one palm slamming against the wall, stopping me. “We need to talk.”

“I’m not in the mood.” I try to push past him, but he grabs my wrists with his free hand.

“Too damn bad.”

“Let me go.”

“No.” His jaw tics and his nostrils flare as his other hand flattens on the wall beside me so that I’m trapped. “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me exactly who you are.” He dips his head to mine so that he’s a breath away. “Right fucking now, Tia.”

I suck in a shaky breath and nod, because I know I have to trust someone. And it might as well be the only man who can get Giles out of the prison cell he’s confined to.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” His dark eyes narrow at me in suspicion.

“I’ll tell you. But I want a promise from you in return.”

“What?”

“You do everything in your power to set Giles free. Even if it means sacrificing me.”

His lips thin and I can practically hear his back teeth grinding as he thinks about my offer.

“You want me to break my vow to protect you?”

I shrug and say, even though I don’t believe it, “In a way, you didn’t make a vow to me. You made a vow to Hypatia Curie, and she doesn’t exist.”

His nostrils flare and I know he doesn’t like my answer, but he’s desperate enough to know my true identity, so I know he’ll try to rationalize it in his mind.

“Done,” he finally says with a hard shake of his head. “Tell me your real name.”

“You might want to sit down. Maybe we should go into my room-”

“Name,” Sal barks.

With a heavy breath, I close my eyes briefly, then say, “My real name is Christina Thorne, and my father is Warren Thorne.”

Salinger straightens, his face paling. “The scientist?”

I nod.

“Fuck.” He takes a step back and drags his hands over his face, then his eyes go wide. “Jesus, that means you were betrothed to-”

“Lawson Jefferson.” I wince when I say the man’s name. “Yes.”

Salinger shakes his head and takes more steps backward until he’s pressed against the other side of the wall, his fingers tugging in his dirty blond hair.

Finally, he says, “You’re right, I wish I didn’t know.”

“So, what do we do now?” I ask, a twisted sense of relief washing over me. I told Sal the truth and I’m still standing, we’re all still standing.

For now.

“Fuck,” Fallon’s deep voice rings below us. And there’s a commotion downstairs before he yells up, “Salinger get down here, now.”

Sal frowns as he turns, the worry lines that are a new, almost a permanent fixture on his handsome face, deepen as he pushes off the wall and hurries downstairs.

I follow him but I’m still only halfway down the stairs when the front door opens, and two guards walk in, their expressions as grim as the aching feeling that settles in my chest.

Whatever they want, it can’t be good.

I only catch the last words of the taller guard as he speaks to Salinger, “Your presence is requested.”

“By who?” Salinger demands.

The man’s eye twitches, then he glances up at me and cold fear trickles down my back. “The woman is also to come with us.”

They know who I am. It’s the only explanation. Or they know what I did.

Either way, this is the end.

My legs feel unsteady as I take the last remaining steps.

“Bullshit,” Fallon growls out. “What the hell do they want her for?”

“We’re not at liberty to say.” The guard sticks his chest out, meeting Fallon’s hard glare.

“She’s not going anywhere.” Fallon looks like he’s ready to take both the men.

I walk towards him and place my palm on his chest. “It’s okay.”

“Tia.” There’s a warning in his eyes because we both know it’s anything but okay.

“I’ll be with Salinger.” Going on tiptoe, I brush my lips against his stubbled cheek, and whisper, “Don’t do anything stupid.”

His jaw clenches, and I can tell he’s still debating whether or not to take out the two men at the door. They must sense it too, because their hands go to their weapons at their waist.

Both Huxley and Emerson have come between me and the guards like they’re ready for whatever fight is coming. I touch their arms as I push past them, and give a small shake of my head, before moving to Salinger’s side.

He does something surprising then - he takes my hand. And as we walk down the path towards the military vehicle waiting for us, I know whatever is coming, I won’t face it alone.

But when I get inside the truck, I freeze, and so does Salinger.

In the seat facing us, the Director leans back, one ankle resting on his knee, his gaze as dark and dangerous as the man himself.

“Father,” Salinger bites out, not releasing my hand, which the man takes note of with a frown. “What the hell is this about?”

They hold each other’s gaze for a long moment, long enough for the guards to get into the front of the vehicle and start to pull away.

Then the Director’s gaze turns to me, and he gives a cruel smile. “I thought it was time to get to know my daughter-in-law.”

Salinger grunts, but I don’t waver from his gaze. I know men like this man. And I know the second I look away, he’ll have the upper hand.

“Why today?” I ask.

He taps his fingers on his knee, then finally says stoically, “She’s asked to meet you.”

Salinger tenses beside me.

“Who?” I ask, confused.

The Director purses his lips. “The woman who created all this.” He glances at Salinger and there’s a silent conversation between them, one I can’t decipher. “The creator of the Lottery.”

Salinger mutters a curse under his breath as his father pulls out a black blindfold.

I glance at the two men hoping for some clarification.

“Would you like to do the honors, son, or should I?” The Director smirks, his gaze trailing down my body, then back up to my face.

Salinger’s fingers tighten around mine, and with a heavy breath, he finally looks at me, and what I see in his eyes scares me even more than the man sitting across from us.

“What’s going on?” I ask when he takes the blindfold from his father.

“You have to put this on.”

“Why?”

“Trust me, Tia.” Familiar brown eyes beg me to comply, but I can see my own fear mirrored in his gaze.

I swallow hard, then finally nod.

“Who is she?” I whisper. Who is the woman that could cause Salinger to tremble?

The last thing I hear him say before the world goes dark is, “My mother.”