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And it’s all my fault.
He’s screaming, and on fire, and it’s all my fault.
Present
I lie in bed, unable to sleep, the nightmare as fresh in my mind today as it was the day it happened.
Seeing Addison today — seeing someone in jeopardy. It’s brought it all back. I can’t bear the thought of having to witness something like that again. Someone’s essence draining away before my very eyes. Someone experiencing the worst agony imaginable.
There’s no way I’m letting history repeat itself.
That’s it. I’m going to make damn sure this girl doesn’t decide to go it alone tomorrow. She’s staying with me for the next six months, and that’s final. No matter what it takes to make that happen. I’m her protector. Her guardian. And I’m not gonna fail this mission. No fucking way.
5
ADDISON
Dang. I must have just passed out instantly when my head hit the pillow last night. This morning, it takes my eyes a while to acclimate to the light in the room. I hold on tight to my stuffie, Mr. Squishy, as I will myself to wake up.
There are no curtains at the window, which is a little odd. But then, this placeisa workshop, not a bedroom. It takes me a few moments to remember where I am.
The whole place stinks of wood shavings. It actually smells really good — a clean, piny scent that makes me feel all fresh and woodsy. There’s a workbench full of tools: chisels, planes, pocket knifes, miter blocks, and other things I can’t even name. There are half-finished pieces on the bench too.
I leave Mr. Squishy on the pillow and climb out of bed to go look at them more closely. Looks like Finn is big into whittling. There’s a half-finished pepper-grinder. A salad bowl. A variety of serving spoons. Such simple, wholesome household objects. It’s funny to think of a big, burly guy like Finn crafting such delicate things. Makes me wonder what else he can do with those hands!
Don’t be stupid, Addison. You’ve already been romantically involved with one complete jerk. Don’t ever make that mistake again.
Not that Finn would ever be interested in someone like me, anyway! A Little. That’s the problem with me, the reason no-one’s ever interested. Because when I tell them that I like to act all cute and be taken care of, they think I’m insane and run for the hills. That’s not even to mention the diapees.
Finn, though — I can’t really imagine him being involved withanyone. Not in any serious way. Seems too into his own company, the isolation.
As much as he tried to play host with me last night, I couldn’t help feeling like it was a burden having me there. The way he just wanted to go straight to bed after finishing dinner. It was like he couldn’t bear to be around me. Made me feel really small, and not in a good way.
I take the time to look out of the window now. The view of the forest really is breathtaking. So unspoilt and perfect. Just trees and more trees, as far as the eye can see. There are hundreds of shades of green out there, all jostling for attention. The fresh, young green of new growth, butted up against that deep, dark green that pine trees grow into as they mature. The green of frogs, and the green of climbing vines and stinging thistles. It’s buzzing with life. There are snatches of blue sky between the branches, of course, and I can see all sorts of little creatures out there, sharing the forest with us: waxwings and pipits, pine squirrels and chipmunks. I bet you’d see all sorts if you just sat by the window all day long.
Obviously, I’m not going to do that. I’m leaving this place, not becoming part of the furniture. As tempting as that might seem right now.
I go back over to my suitcase and look at the clothes I’ve brought with me. I thought I was going to be staying at my sister’s place, so a lot of my clothes are fairly inappropriate. Dresses and skirts, mostly covered in cute little details — unicorns and tigers and shiny little rainbows — hardly wilderness gear. And not exactly the kind of stuff I want to wear in front of Finn.
‘What do you think, Mr. Squishy?’ I ask. ‘What should I wear today?’
I’ve brought some of my own clothes, too — stuff I’ve designed. A moss-green sweater and a pair of jean shorts with animal-shaped patches sewn on the butt. A fox on the left butt cheek, a badger on the right. I have pretty quirky taste, I guess, but it gives me confidence to wear something I’ve created today. Even though I really did mean what I said last night. About the fact that I should’ve thought a bit more carefully about my clothing range. Made sure the fabrics were all from ethical sources, and so on.
Still, this is about the least overtly cutesy item I’ve brought with me, so it’ll have to do.
I wonder if I’ll ever be able to sew anything again. I love my sewing machine. I can’t go anywhere without it. But right now, the thought of firing it up and stitching a new piece of clothing makes me want to scream. What happened with that article is all just too raw. I need time to cool down.
I take off my pajamas, making sure I’m standing in a corner of them room where I can’t be seen through the window. I’mfairlysure Finn wouldn’t spy on me, but you never know. Boys will be boys. And the last thing I want is for this ridiculously masculine, ultra-hot boy to catch sight of me in my diaper.
Although, as I tug my clothes off and then undo the tabs of my overnight diapee, I fantasize about how he might respond. Those big blue eyes, widening as he looks at my smooth body. My breasts, my stomach, and the character-covered fabric of a Crinklz diaper. I giggle to myself. He’d probably pass out.
I pull on my shorts and sweater, and head into the kitchen, looking for my tattooed host.
He’s nowhere to be seen though. Instead, Eric comes up to greet me.
‘Hello, boy!’ I give him a pat and a stroke. ‘You seen your daddy today?’
That makes me laugh. Calling Finn his daddy. Then I stop laughing, because I realize that it felt so natural to think of Finn as a protector. As a guardian.
