The fear of all these questions was a big part of why Taron hadn’t wanted to show Colin the extent of his underground hideout. Beyond the armory were endless shelves of food storage, and Taron knew the contents of each. He grabbed an empty cardboard box from the top of the unit, then a blanket from a chest nearby and kneeled by a table to prepare a cozy spot for Missi and her young.
The earlier work and the stress the rescue had taken on his body were finally catching up with him to the point where he struggled to keep his eyes open. The wet clothes clung to his flesh, creating a barrier against warmth, so the shivers going through his flesh were getting more violent by the moment. The last thing he wanted was to explain himself, but he wouldn’t be given the peace he so desperately needed. Not with Colin breathing down his neck.
“Did you build this yourself?” Colin asked, knocking on the steel wall.
Taron squinted when an old light bulb winked at him with white flashes.
He let Missi out into her private space along with the tiny kittens, and finally took a deep breath of relief, but that only made the ache in his side more intense.
Colin helped him up, but his touch made the cold even worse, with freezing water drizzling out of the clothes. “Come on, let’s go to the bed. I’ll need to have a look at that wound,” he said, stepping back toward the exit.
Taron shook his head and pointed to the door at the other end of the reinforced shipping container. They needed to pass the shelves full of soaps, cleaning products and essentials to get there, but despite Colin’s impatient huffing, he followed Taron into the cool darkness of the next unit. It served as a junction where the bunker branched out in several directions, and when a bewildered Colin stopped walking the moment the light went on, Taron pulled on his hand and led him to the room to the far right.
The large fireplace was a prop, and so were the windows opening up to photographs of a forested landscape, but the living room in its entirety might as well have been set up in a regular house. Comfortable armchairs faced a coffee table, and wooden shelves held a collection of books that might prove useful after the upcoming catastrophe.
Colin walked inside in silence and stared into the eyes of Old McGraw’s trophy deer head. He stood still, as if he expected the taxidermy to speak, only to suddenly look back at Taron with red blots on his cheeks. Tension snuck to his shoulders, making them square. “What is this?”
Taron leaned down to get his icicle-like shoes off but ended up falling to his knee when a jolt of pain seared along his body close to the new wound.
Colin rubbed his face and turned to Taron with his whole body. His chest worked fast, just like when it did when he was about to cum. “There are actual pillows here. And a rug made of a dead bear,” he said, nudging the large fur under the coffee table.
Taron shrugged.
Colin raised his arms. “Who’s Old McGraw? The dad of the cat haters?” he asked, while Rio lazily rubbed against Colin’s calf.
Which was the precise reason why they hated Taron so much.
Colin massaged his temples before letting his arms drop. “I was in a cage. In a cage. Why didn’t you just lock me up here?”
Taron stared. The shivers and pain radiating all over his torso made thinking difficult. Couldn’t he just lie in bed and bother with the question later? For someone who’d just been led into a complicated bunker system deep in the woods, Colin was way too preoccupied with why he hadn’t been offered more comfort.
Taron growled.
Colin rolled his eyes and walked toward the next door as if the place belonged to him. Once he switched on the light there, revealing the large bed and a tub in the corner, his throat made a noise that reminded Taron of an angered hornet. “This is a goddamn condo. What the actual fuck?”
Taron sighed at the muddy stains Colin was leaving on the floor, but at least it wasn’t carpeted. Even if dated, the bunker suited Taron. He’d found it comfortingly homely during many long nights alone. He wasn’t going to apologize for old taxidermy or furniture from a different era when it was his home.
Colin touched his head again before rapidly moving his hands away from it. “I couldn’t sit up straight, and I had to shit in a bucket inside the place where I slept while all this was here? I can’t fucking believe it!”