Page 17

Story: Bunker Down, Baby

A short, sharp, exasperated-as-fuck laugh that I did not authorize.

Her face lights up. “Oh, see? You’re already losing your attitude,” she says brightly, tossing me a pair of sweats. “That’s good, because if you behave, you get to stay uncuffed.”

I catch the sweats mid-air, stepping into them because fuck it, I need pants. “You’re rewarding me for ‘good behavior’?”

She nods, completely serious.

I towel off my hair, glaring at her. “I am a grown-ass man, not a goddamn puppy.”

“You say that,” she says, grinning, “But you’ve been a very good boy for me so far.”

I nearly choke.

She just giggles again.

I shake my head. “Maple, you are fucking insane.”

She just shrugs. “Oh, Evan, you’re gonna love it here.”

I scowl, pulling the clean shirt over my head. “Yeah? What happens if I don’t?”

She smirks. “You will.”

I hate that she sounds so fucking sure.

And the worst part?

I think she might be right.

Chapter Four

Maple

“Exactly how does this work?” Evan asks.

He’s sitting on his very comfortable bed, toying with the restraint that’s fastened to the frame and not to him, because I’m a very trusting girlfriend.

I pop another fry into my mouth, lounging in the chair across from him. The fries are cold now, but still good. “You mean the part where I take care of you, keep you safe, and make sure you don’t have to work yourself to death in that disease-infested hospital?”

He gives me a look.

The are-you-fucking-serious kind. The kind that could be intimidating, except he’s clean, well-fed, and no longer chained to a bed, so honestly? He just looks like a very spoiled hostage.

“I’ll be missed,” he says.

I nod. “Of course you will. At work. And by that silly little neighbor you sleep with occasionally but don’t care enough about to commit to.”

His head jerks up so fast I almost laugh.

The shock on his face? Adorable.

God, I might actually miss that once he settles in.

“I.” His jaw tightens. “You don’t…how the fuck do you…”

I wave that off. We don’t have time for dumb questions.

“Work will replace you,” I say breezily. “That’s the thing about society. It barely appreciates the people keeping it running. You, for example, are tireless. Selfless. And, my god, so fucking good at what you do.”