Page 19 of Wicked

“Someone almost killed you, and you didn’t tell me?” Revolver says. “What the fuck, Candlewick. You were my best friend. I… I love you.” He rolls his eyes when Manny tenses up at that. “Not in a romantic way. He’s my family. I care about him.”

“I know,” I whisper. “That’s why I couldn’t lose you. I’d already lost Gran.”

Revolver clenches his jaw. “Fuck you. Just… fuck you.” He yanks open the freezer and snatches the vodka out. “I’m still angry with you, but we can’t celebrate you finding your fated mate without vodka. Do we have those fancy little cheeses? Or chocolate?”

Lester leans in and kisses Revolver’s cheek. “We have plenty of cheese and chocolate. How about I put together a plate for us?”

Relief fills my chest. I have been all alone for so long, and now here I am with Manny at my side and Revolver handing me a bottle of vodka. The nightmare is finally over.

Or it might be. It depends on how things go down with Dorian and H tonight.

“What happened with the plastic man?” Lester asks as he pulls out dark chocolate bars made with eighty percent cocoa from one cupboard and a loaf of wheat bread from a bakery two blocks away. He’s the kind of person who likes to feed people, but he’s also a complete snob, so he only feeds people vegetables or “clean” snack food. I once witnessed an epic argument between him and Revolver over whether Cheetos were food or poison. The man is fine with vodka, an actual poison, but he considers trans fat beyond the pale.

Revolver is from Texas and has joked that trans fat is a food group on more than one occasion.

“The plastic man’s name is Buddy. He’s, um, free. In a way. Someone else is taking care of him.” I feel guilty that H has to deal with Dorian, but I offered to come. Besides, what could I do? Dorian controlled me for so long, I think I’ve forgotten how to fight back. Or maybe I’m just scared.

I hope Buddy will be okay.

“So then it isn’t over?” Revolver says.

I shake my head.

“Then why are you here? I mean, I’m glad you are, but if you were set on protecting us, what changed?”

It’s a fair question. What would he say if I told him prison shook me to my core? That I’m too scared to keep doing this alone? Or that meeting Manny makes me want to allow myself even the smallest amount of happiness? Would he think I was weak or selfish?

If so, he’d probably be right.

“My colleagues need us to stay out of the way while they take care of a few things,” Manny explains. “We’re professionals. We’ll handle it. All we ask is that if the authorities question you about tonight, you give them an honest answer about our whereabouts, including the time we arrived, and allow your security personnel permission to share footage of their cameras without a warrant.”

It’s nice that he’s trying to smooth things over with Revolver. In a weird way, it makes me feel like we’re dealing with this situation as a team. After being alone in a scary situation for so long, that’s comforting.

Lester sets out four shot glasses on the counter. “What are we giving you an alibi for? You know what? Never mind. I don’t want to know.” He takes the vodka from me and pours a shot into each glass.

“He’ll need a mixer, Les,” Revolver says, knocking back the first shot glass.

We all have habits that linger from where we grew up. Lester’s family lives in Anchorage among polar bear shifters who drink their vodka straight. And not quickly like Revolver just did. Lester picks up his shot glass and sips at it as if it’s a fine wine.

“This is excellent vodka. We’re not drowning it in lemonade.”

Manny glances at me, then picks up the third glass. “I’ll try it.”

I’m surprised Manny’s drinking at all. Isn’t that against his religion? It’s hard to keep track of what he considers a sin.

I pick up the last shot glass. It’s completely awful because it’s straight vodka, but that’s the thing about a conversation in Lester’s kitchen. No one ever comes here for the vodka. They come to feel understood by a man who will always have their back.

“It’s lovely to meet you, by the way,” Lester says to Manny. “Perhaps you can tell us the story behind your, ahem, clothing choices.”

Manny’s lips quirk up. “Candlewick picked them out for me.”

I glare at him. The little traitor.

Revolver throws back his head and laughs.

6

Manny

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