After dinner, we went up to the bedroom to change the dressing on her leg since that’s where Splint left an obnoxious amount of supplies. It was also because I planned to resume my quest for answers, and I could easily prevent her from escaping by locking the door. While she was incoherent from the infection, I installed a deadbolt lock on the bedroom as well as locks requiring a key on the bedroom and bathroom windows. She wasn’t going to get away from me again.
She went into the bathroom to change clothes, emerging in a tight black tank top and a pair of shorts that were damn near indecent. My cock twitched in my pants. He didn’t care about the potential disasters surrounding this woman. All he cared about were the creamy thighs and swells of large breasts on display.
I cleared my throat, “Ready when you are.”
She nodded and moved to the bed. “I’ve already washed my hands,” she informed me before silently going through the steps and changing her dressing without issue.
“Good job,” I said flatly, causing her head to shoot up. “Now, I’m tired of your bullshit. I want some answers, and you aren’t leaving this place until I get them. Are we clear?”
She audibly swallowed and nodded. “What do you want to know?”
“First of all, I want the truth this time. I know you weren’t out hiking. I watched you climb out of the bathroom window, slide down a blanket, and walk straight to the bunker. Then, I watched you climb out with two bags, walk off into the forest, and set up a campsite about a mile from here. I also know someone has been staying in the bunker for what appears to be several weeks. I’m guessing that someone is you. So, tell me, Kayla, what the hell are you up to?”
I was not prepared for her response. She blinked her big, blue eyes at me and burst into tears. Sobs and gasps wracked her body as she unleashed a torrent of emotions. Without thinking, I was by her side and wrapping my arms around her. I gently rocked her while smoothing her hair, hoping I was providing some semblance of comfort. Women and their fucking tears.
“Hey, it’s going to be okay. You’re not in any trouble for being here. No one’s going to hurt you. We just want to know what’s going on,” I murmured.
“We?” she choked out.
“This is my friend’s cabin. He lets me stay here when I need a few days away. When I saw you go into the bunker, I thought maybe he forgot to tell me he had a guest. I called and asked, and he didn’t have a clue who you were,” I explained.
She pulled away from me with a look of horror on her face. “Your friend keeps women in that bunker?” she screeched.
“No! That’s not what I meant. The bunker is more of...a safe house, you could say; a place for someone to stay until it’s safe for them to return to their normal life.”
She eyed me warily.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling a headache coming on. “I’m not explaining this well. Almost two years ago, a woman, my cousin, had a bad man after her. She came up here to hide out until the bad guy was caught. While she was here, she did have to take cover in the bunker. To my knowledge, that’s the only time it’s actually been used.”
“Is your cousin safe now?” she asked.
“Yes, she is. She’s happily married and expecting her first child,” I said, smiling at the thought of Ember. She was beautiful inside and out.
“What happened to the bad guy?” she asked.
“He was caught and detained. He died not that long ago,” I said, not lying, but not in any way telling her the truth. She didn’t need to know the whole story when she was only looking for reassurance.
I gave her a moment to process what I said before gently asking, “Will you tell me how you ended up in the bunker?”
6
“Will you tell me how you ended up in the bunker?” he asked softly.
I couldn’t tell him the truth, not all of it anyway. I could give him partial truths and hope it would suffice. I felt like I had a better chance of my plan working if I let him ask the questions instead of volunteering the information. I wasn’t a great liar to begin with, and I needed all the help I could get.
“I don’t even know where to begin. It’s a long story, and one I’m not fond of telling…” I trailed off, hoping he would take that as his cue to lead the conversation.
He rubbed his chin with his thumb and forefinger before nodding. “Okay, let’s start with you answering some of my questions.”
I sighed with relief and nodded.
“How long have you been staying in the bunker?”
Of course, he would start off with a question I couldn’t easily answer. “Um, what’s today’s date?”
He gave me an incredulous look before glancing at his phone. “It’s February 17th.”
“Oh, well, I guess I’ve been staying in the bunker for four weeks...maybe four and a half,” I said distractedly. I was a little taken aback by the date. I knew a good bit of time had passed since the beginning of my nightmare, but I didn’t think it had been four weeks.