Page 28 of Wicked

Candlewick

After Manny leaves, I sit on the edge of the bed for a long time. I wish I could be mad at him for leaving me. It would be so much easier if I could go through my standard breakup routine and rage eat gelato while watchingSex in the City.

But I don’t feel angry. I’m just sad.

I think Manny’s religion has prevented him from dealing with what happened to him in the pits. He hasn’t had a chance to explore sex in a healthy way or talk about his experiences there. He needs therapy. Lots and lots of therapy. Maybe then he’ll be ready to deal with our connection. Maybe he’ll never be ready. I don’t know. All I know is that I’m too tired to think about it anymore tonight.

I finally turn off the light and climb into bed. I haven’t slept well since the night before I took off with Buddy, and even then, I was too on edge to rest well. Sleeping in prison was a nightmare too. One of the guards must have suspected I had a thrall because I was put in a high security area where the cells were barely big enough to stand side by side with my roommate, and everyone else in the cell block could see everything everyone was doing one hundred percent of the time. The nights were even worse because they only dimmed the lights, and the sounds of people snoring and masturbating echoed through the whole block.

There were moments during those nights when I wondered if setting Buddy free was worth living like that. I questioned if I had been too quick to sacrifice myself.

Lester’s guest bed is soft, and the room is blissfully dark. I feel lonely here, but I also feel safe. Dorian Gray can’t get me here. The law isn’t after me anymore. I can finally rest.

It feels like only two seconds go by before someone is shaking me.

“Candlewick! Wake up!”

I open my eyes, trying to remember where I am.

“I just got a Google alert about Dorian!” Revolver’s voice says somewhere in the dark.

“Hmmm? Dorian?”

“Yes. I have Google alerts on you and Dorian because I was worried about you, and I have stalkerish tendencies when I’m worried about someone. Sorry about that. But anyway, he’s dead.”

I fumble for the lamp on the nightstand that I swear was on the right side of the bed. It takes me a few seconds to locate the switch. A pale light floods into the room, revealing Revolver sitting on the edge of the bed wearing nothing but a pair of socks and pajama bottoms.

“Dorian is dead? How?” Did H kill him? Did Buddy kill him?

Revolver grins. “It was an old-fashioned heart attack, so you don’t need an alibi.”

Just like that. If I had waited a week to free Buddy, he could have just walked out of there. No prison time for me, no dangerous trips to the Den of Dreams for him, and no drama for H.

I wouldn’t have met Manny either. Maybe that would have been for the best.

“Where is Manny? Did he end up on the couch?” Revolver asks.

“I don’t know.” In retrospect, it would have been good to ask. I don’t have my phone anymore, so I never got his number.

“What do you mean? He left?”

I sigh. “Yeah, but before you decide to hate him, he’s been through a lot. He wasn’t ready for things to escalate that quickly physically.”

Revolver climbs closer to me on the bed until we’re shoulder to shoulder. “Is this the part where you try to fix him?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, don’t pretend you don’t know. You were always putting Viagra in your client’s food if they didn’t want to deal with their ED or dreaming up creative workarounds for guys who would get triggered by vanilla sex. Do you remember that one time you bought that pink rubber suit because one of your clients thought it was sexy and literally nothing else turned him on?”

“I wasn’t trying to fix any of those guys. I was just trying to help them enjoy sex. What’s wrong with that? Also, rubber is a pretty common fetish.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Common?”

“Maybe not common, but it’s a fetish. You know better than to make fun of a fetish.”

“You’re right. Sorry about that. I’m trying to say that you have this desire to fix everyone’s sexual problems, even before they’re ready, and sometimes it’s a problem. No one should be giving anyone ED medication without their permission. It can cause heart problems, Candlewick. There’s a reason people need a prescription to take it.”

“Wait, are you trying to say I killed Dorian by giving him Viagra on the sly?” I ask.