Page 12 of Tower (Post-Apocalyptic Fairy Tales #1)

At dinner that evening, I’m in a strange mood.

I’ve never been a person who’s particularly up and down with emotions. Usually I go through life on a pleasant even tenor. Even during the years I spent cooped up in our house with my parents and then only my dad, I usually maintained a fairly stable temper.

But I really sank into despair the other week, and I do feel a lot better now.

I’m also exhausted from too much change and too many emotions.

And weirdly confused by my interaction with Levi this afternoon.

Also kind of guilty, like I might have to somehow move on from my family when that’s the last thing I’d ever want to do.

It makes me jittery. Nervous. And weirdly energized in a way that’s not like me at all.

Levi would no doubt call it feisty.

Maybe that is a reasonable word for the mood.

I prepare Levi’s plate. We got some ham from the Nelsons’ farm, which is a special treat, so I slice him off a good piece and fry it up in a pan with his bread so it’s hot and tastier than what everyone else is getting.

The mashed sweet potatoes look pretty good, so all I have to do is make sure the scoop on his plate looks pretty.

He doesn’t like peas—I know this because I’ve noticed him eating around them—so I remove all the peas from his mixed vegetables, which have been prepared by dumping a random assortment of canned vegetables into a pot to heat up.

Pleased with the result, I carry his plate to him, flushing at the murmur of appreciation from the table.

When I shoot him a quick glance, I catch Levi’s eyes on me. He doesn’t say anything though. Just pulls out my chair to get me to sit down.

Dinner is good. I enjoy my food, and Levi even makes a few hums of appreciation as he eats, which make me happy.

I haven’t been eating very much lately, especially since I was forcing down the bare minimum in my room for a week, so I can’t finish my portions. He’s already done, so I switch our plates so he can finish mine.

After checking my face, Levi starts eating the rest of my meal. I reach over to eat the peas he leaves behind since it’s a shame to waste them.

He never says much at mealtime. And he’s still not talking a lot when a bunch of us move into the lounge in the old office and lobby space. But he’s listening to the others hanging out there as they talk about the Nelson boy’s new wife. She’s evidently not happy and isn’t hesitant to tell people.

That could have been me. The knowledge makes me feel… weird.

I’m sitting on a footstool next to Levi’s outstretched legs. He brought his glass of water with him to the lounge, and when he takes his last swallow, I get up to refill it.

On my way back, I get waylaid by Becca in the courtyard right outside. She wants to admire my fingernails, which she shaped and polished beautifully after lunch. We don’t chat for very long. That should be clear.

It’s why I’m a little annoyed when Levi calls out through the open lounge door, “You got my drink?”

He’s not being mean. Or even particularly rude. But the question feels entitled, especially after I’ve been treating him so good all day. So I say, “Just a minute.”

“I’m parched over here.”

There’s laughter from inside the room. Everyone is listening.

And I’m feeling feisty. “I doubt you’ll die of thirst in less than a minute.”

The sounds of amusement shift, like I’m being naughty, like I’m challenging Levi.

Someone says quite clearly, “Takes some guts, talkin’ back to Boss.”

And I say… Yes, I say it. “He’s not the boss of me.”

There’s some hooting and more laughter. I flush and quickly walk inside to bring Levi his water, wondering what the hell got into me.

He’s the boss of everyone around here. Including me. He’s literally keeping me alive, and he can stop doing so at any moment.

Plus my acting sweet and submissive in front of the others was part of our deal.

Shit, I really messed up.

The laughter fades into silence as Levi rises slowly to his feet. He’s not smiling. He’s not… anything.

He takes a fistful of my hair and uses it to push me forward, toward the door of the lounge.

“I’m sorry!” I burst out, partly for effect to make up for my slip but partly because I mean it.

He keeps walking me to the door.

The laughter erupts again as we leave the building. I hear more than one raunchy comment about how Boss is going to show me who the boss really is around here.

Levi doesn’t say a word as he guides me upstairs and into our room, which is directly above the lounge where the group downstairs is gathered. He bars the door behind us.

I gulp, my skin blazing hot all the way down my neck and to my chest. “I really am sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Levi shakes his head and sinks down into his chair. He won’t say anything, so I have no idea what he’s thinking.

I start taking off my top.

“What you doin’?”

I freeze. Lower my top. “I thought you were going to fuck me to show me who the boss really is. Isn’t that what?—”

Something weird happens. His shoulders shake with a series of choppy huffs.

He’s laughing.

He’s laughing .

“Fuck, girl, I appreciate your faith in my sex drive, but I’m over forty, I’m fuckin’ exhausted by this shitty world, and I just had the best blow job of my life three hours ago. You really think I’m gettin’ it up again so soon?”

I giggle. Cover my mouth with my hand and giggle again. “I thought…”

“I get it. I didn’t know what to do, so I played along with what everyone was thinkin’. We’re not gonna fuck. We’re gonna sit here and let them think that’s what happened.”

I’m still overwhelmed with giggles. I sit on the bed since it’s closest to where I’ve been standing. “I’ll act all wide-eyed and submissive for the rest of the week so everyone thinks you really gave it to me good.”

We sit and occasionally smile at each other for about ten minutes. I’m not sure how long we need to wait for everyone to be convinced he gave me a good fuck, but it’s got to be longer than ten minutes.

Inspired, I start rocking on the bed.

Levi frowns. “What you doin’?”

“If they’re going to believe you’re a stud, then we need to get this bed going. Come over and help me.”

He’s chuckling and shaking his head some more, but he stands up and walks over, taking his place on the bed when I scoot over. Together, we get the bed shaking at a strong, steady rhythm, slamming the headboard back against the wall.

Anyone still hanging downstairs is definitely going to hear it.

On cue, some muffled hooting and hollering sounds from below.

We go on for a while. Then I start screaming out in fake ecstasy, “Yes! Yes! Yes, Boss, yes!”

Levi chokes on a laugh.

Inspired more by his laughter than by any desire to create a show for the gang, I keep up the loud refrain on and off for a few minutes.

Levi is still laughing, progressively more helplessly, until he’s trying to tuck his head enough to muffle the sounds in his shoulder.

When it feels like it’s gone on long enough, I yell at the top of my voice, “Yes! Yes! You’re the boss! You’re the boss!”

Levi totally loses it.

I never dreamed I’d ever see him so uncontrolled outside of sex. He’s shaking helplessly and can’t even focus enough to keep up his part of the rocking.

It doesn’t matter.

We’ve sustained it long enough to prove our point.

It might have been a tasteless pretense—it definitely was—but I made Levi laugh in a way I doubt he’s laughed since Impact.

I have zero regrets.