Page 38 of Wicked

I set my toast down, unsure if it was Dorian’s cleaning staff or if he’d returned home.

Thunk, thunk.

The sound was coming from the hall. I walked toward it slowly, but no one was there. Dorian’s room was empty, the bathroom was empty.

Thump, thump, thump.

The door at the end of the hall shook with every thump. I stepped closer, placing my hand on the doorknob. The sound didn’t come again. Maybe I had imagined it. Or maybe there was a cat or something stuck in here. Maybe it was something else, like an infestation of mice. I twisted the knob and opened the door inch by inch.

It wasn’t a cat or mice. It wasn’t an animal at all. The only thing I saw in the closet was a life-sized plastic doll. Was this some weird, sick thing Dorian bought to have sex with? I was about to close the door again when the doll lifted his head and opened his eyes.

His eyes were real. They stared back at me, wide with fear.

I hadno idea how much my life would change on that day. It’s hard to think about it no. There was nothing I could have done to save myself without abandoning Buddy. I was stuck.

Maybe I’m still stuck, even though Dorian is dead. My nesting instincts are screaming at me to create a safe space for my heat, but here I am, smiling at Anne like everything’s fine because I’m not ready to admit that I’ll be spending my heat alone.

The idea of losing Manny forever is too painful even if he’s being a complete ass.

I wander out onto the deck, more memories running through my head.

Buddy stoodin the doorway uncertainly. “I’m not supposed to go out.”

I patted the seat next to me on the deck. “I made you some lemonade. It would be a shame to let it go to waste.” At that point, I tried to get him to disobey one of Dorian’s rules as often as I could, but I didn’t have much luck. That worried me. Any escape plan I planned for him would require him to rebel on a level he hadn’t shown the courage for yet.

He stared at the lemonade with longing. It was his absolute favorite, which is why I’d made it in the first place. “Maybe you could bring it back in the house? Dorian will be mad if I leave the house.”

“Dorian won’t know. It will be our little secret,” I said.

He hugged his chest where a knife protruded and several bullets were still lodged in his plastic skin. I knew why he was afraid of Dorian. It was healthy to be afraid. But if my plan was going to work, I had to make his love of the outside world more important than his fear.

“The warmth of the sun feels good, Bud. Come out here with me.”

He glanced at me, back at the glass of lemonade, then at me again. I held my breath, hoping he could find the courage within himself.

He put one plastic foot outside onto the deck. “Dorian has security cameras.”

“And? Does he ever check them? You’re not supposed to be talking to me, and we’ve been hanging out for years.”

Buddy moved his second foot onto the deck, immersing his naked body in sunshine. He blinked rapidly. “It’s warm.”

“The sun feels amazing, right?”

He gave me a big, sweet smile that reminded me of why I was doing this. “Yes, it does.”

That dayI was wearing sunglasses because I still had a black eye from the last time Dorian hit me. I was so scared.

I’m still scared. Not because I’m trapped with Dorian, but because I don’t know what I’m going to do now that he’s dead. Buddy no longer needs to be free. That’s been my purpose for so long, I don’t know what to do with myself. What am I now, except single and alone, despite having a fated mate? I could have had a future with Manny if he wasn’t so difficult. I could have been happy.

What am I going to do with my life?

I go back inside and get roped into helping Manny with breakfast, even as my urge to nest becomes more and more powerful.

Finally, Buddy and H come out of the guest bedroom.

“Candlewick! You’re here!”

Buddy rushes at me and gives me a full body hug. I hold him tight for a few seconds, and it finally sinks in: Buddy gets to have a life now. This kind man doesn’t belong to Dorian anymore. He can explore the big, beautiful world without worrying about Dorian trapping him or hurting him.

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