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Fuck.
‘You don’t need a… change do you?’ I ask, trying to sound as innocent as I can.
She blushes.
‘I think I’ll do that. But thank you for asking.’
It was insane of me to ask. Of course she doesn’t want me to change her, not when she’s feeling vulnerable like this. I hope I didn’t upset her too much. I lie her down on the bed and get the hell out of her room as quick as I goddamn can.
‘Goodnight, darlin’,’ I say, when I’m already halfway down the hall, trying to conceal the lust and hunger in my voice.
‘Goodnight, Finn,’ her sweet-ass voice calls out to me in the darkness. ‘And goodnight, Eric!’
Eric is already fast asleep.
Quick as a flash, I climb the ladder to my bunk. Goddamn it! I’m so worked up from having to watch that beautiful creature in her diaper all night long, with that concerned little pout of hers.
I can’t believe she’s a Little, staying in my house. I’ve been looking for someone just like her for so long. But there’s no chance that anything could ever happen between the two of us, is there?
Okay, I know this is bad, but before I lie down, I put an emergency condom in my wallet. Just in case.
And then I get to somehardthinkingaboutmy wife. Some real hard thinking.
Six Years Ago
I can’t believe I’m about to do this, but things have gotten real bad, real fast.
I’ve only been back home for six months, but ever since the explosion — ever since Tyson — things have gone from bad to worse.
I ended up getting discharged from Afghanistan with second-degree burns. I knew there was no way I could save Tyson by jumping in to try and save him like that, but I had to fuckingtry.
The burns I’d gotten on my arms and chest werenothingcompared to what that poor guy suffered.
But now I’m back home, and my burns have turned to scars, I’m still suffering. I’ve got wounds that arenevergoing to heal.
I’ve been trying to keep myself busy, keep my mind working. As long as I keep distracting myself, I can try to forget about those screams. So, I drink, and I play poker, and I find women who can put up with my bad attitude.
I even tried getting in touch with Kira when I got back home. I apologized for the letters drying up, but she wasn’t interested. Told me she’d moved on. She was seeing some guy in Iraq now, who was entertaining her with all kinds of stories of aggression and brutality, I guess, since that’s always what she seemed to want from me.
Never mind about Kira. I don’t need her, anyway. I always knew deep down that I need a Little.
Some days, I’ll win at cards, or I’ll have a pretty girl wrap her legs around me, and I’ll feel okay for an hour or two.
Other days, like today, I’ll find myself driven to the brink.
Today, I’ve just bet big, and put everything I owned, even my damn watch, all on a horse. A horse, dammit! And in an instant, just like that, I’ve lost it all.
You’d think I’d be worrying about how I’ll afford my rent, how I’ll afford to fuckingeat. But that’s not what concerns me. What concerns me is getting enough dough together to bet myself back into a good place again.
If I can just make a few thousand dollars, I think, I can pay for a girl to keep me company a few days, and all my troubles will be washed away.
But you need to speculate to accumulate, and I don’t have a dime to my name.
That’s why I’m standing outside some old lady’s mansion, with a determined look in my eyes.
Now, obviously, I trained in the military. I know how to scope a place out. I’ve been watching this place for several days. I know the times of day this old lady enters and leaves her house. I know what kind of stuff I can get from her. Jewelry, mainly. I’m pretty sure she has a safe in the back of her bedroom wardrobe, too. A pair of binoculars and an awkward climb up a drainpipe one night told me that.
Today’s the day I’m finally going to get what I want from her, and I’m all dressed up for the occasion. Flannel pants, black shoes, smart shirt. I’ve got a couple old military tattoos I’ve hidden with the shirt’s long sleeves. I look smart. I look like the kind of guy you’d trust.
