Wonderland (18 page)

“A
lex, you need to breathe! What are you going to do?”

“I'm going to find myself a twink and see what I can't shake out of him.”

“Where? Where are you even going to go?”

“Back to Wonderland. If he's not there, Brandon will know where he is.” I pushed the button for the elevator, again and again and again.

“It's sad, really,” Aaron said.

“What? What's sad?”

“That guy back there. So desperate for human contact.”

“Well, you go contact with him then. I'm furious.”

“No, I get that. I just understand what it's like.”

“Shut up, Aaron. I don't want to feel sorry for him right now. I'm sure tomorrow I will, but right now, I'm so mad. He made me believe that you . . . Ack! I don't even have words right now. Where the fuck is this elevator?”

Aaron laughed. “It's coming. Chillax.”

“Chillax? Really? Are you twelve?” The elevator finally showed. I pushed him in, playfully for the most part. “Take me to the bar.”

“Aye aye, boss!” He mock saluted me.

After we were in the car, he asked, “What are you going to do if he's there? You're not going to cause a scene right there?”

“I might. Look, you should be pissed too,” I said. “He knocked you over.”

“By accident.”

“Oh? Are you sure? When he knocked you over, that's how I found out it was you, plus he's the one who framed you for painting my door.”

Aaron drove in silence for a while. “Okay, why am I defending this little twink again?”

“Because you're a nice guy, but you shouldn't be.”

“No, I shouldn't be.” When we pulled up in front of the club, I told him to wait for me. “Nuh-uh,” he said. “This is about me, too. I'm going to hold him down for you while we get some answers.”

“That's the Aaron I know,” I said with a grin. “You know, if you'd been willing to go to the bar and hold down a twink for me while I had my way with him before, we might still be together.”

“Hush you.” He paused, and frowned. “That wasn't funny.”

“Too far, I admit. Sorry. After you?” I held the door open for him.

The night was winding down, and the crowd was a lot thinner than it had been even just half an hour ago. We looked around, but there was no sign of Allan anywhere in the bar. Cursing, I went up to the bar and waited for Brandon.

“Back already?” he said. “Just in time for last call.”

“We're good,” I said.

“We'll have a couple gin and crans,” Aaron corrected. “Make them doubles.”

While Brandon was pouring, I said, “I really don't need any more.”

“Oh, I think we do.”

Brandon brought over the drinks. “Where's Allan?” I asked.

“Why?”

“Just tell me where he is.”

“I don't know and I don't care.”

“Why? What's going on?”

“He's a loser. Let me just finish up here and I'll come tell you.”

He went back to serving the last of his last call lineup. Aaron and I sat there at the bar, waiting. I must have been staring as per usual because Aaron turned to me and said, “Yes, it's a nice ass.”

“I'm allowed to look.”

“And drool?”

“I wasn't drooling.”

“Not much anyway.”

“Hush you.”

My phone vibrated in my pocket. I had completely forgotten to be checking it. Seeing it was unknown, I ran to the bathroom so I could hear better as I answered. “Hello!”

“Where are you?”

“No, where are you? I want to talk to Steven, now!”

“You can talk to Steven tomorrow.”

“No! No more tomorrows! We are ending this tonight!”

“Aren't you too busy drinking with your ex to worry about what I'm doing to poor little Stevie?”

“Look, I know who you are now, Allan, so I will be going to the cops. Put Steven on the phone so I can tell him I am on my way.”

“Who's Allan? Some other trick of yours, you little faggot whore?”

“Faggot whore, eh? Dead giveaway. Pretty stupid, Allan, to call me what you wrote on my door.”

“Whatever you're talking about doesn't matter. What matters is that you listen to me.”

“No! You listen to me, you little fuckwad. When I get my hands on you . . .”

“Violence won't get you anywhere.” And he hung up.

I kicked the counter, and flinched at the sudden sharp pain in my foot. Was it Allan? It didn't sound like him, come to think of it, although the way his fake accent kept changing, it was really impossible to tell.

All I could hope was that Brandon could tell me where I could find him.

B
ack out at the bar, Brandon was just finishing off last call. He'd no sooner served his final customer than he stashed his tip jar under the counter, turned off the register, and came over. “Let's go outside. I need a smoke.”

We followed him outside. “Why are you looking for Allan?”

“He's been fucking with me,” I said.

“With us,” Aaron corrected.

“You're not even going to believe me.”

“Oh try me. I've been paying for his shit all week because he ‘lost his wallet' last weekend, but he had it tonight when he was visiting the Caterpillar.”

“Who's the Caterpillar?” Aaron asked.

“You've been performing here this long and don't know who the resident drug dealer is?”

“I don't do drugs.”

“Still.”

“Whoa,” Brandon said. “Performing here?”

“Yeah, apparently my ex here decided to pursue his inner tranny and become the Queen of Hearts.”

“Wow, you're amazing,” Brandon said, bowing slightly.

“Enough of that! What about Allan's wallet?”

“Well, it's just symptomatic, isn't it? Says he doesn't have money because he lost his wallet, so I pay for drinks, dinners, whatever, but he pulls out his wallet tonight to get his crystal fix.”

“The wallet at Steven's!” I said. “That fucking kid!”

“What?” they both said.

“I found a wallet at Steven's the other day, but thought it was his. And then when Aaron didn't have his yesterday—”

“—you naturally thought it was mine.”

“Well, only because I believed the Walrus's story.”

“Well, did you go check it?”

“I tried, but the house was trashed, and it was gone.”

“But what does Allan have to do with Steven?” Brandon asked.

“I don't know, but if it was his wallet at Steven's house, then maybe he's the one who kidnapped him.”

“He's a bit small to kidnap anyone, really,” Aaron said. “Especially a built guy like Steven.”

“Oh, I'm glad you noticed,” I said.

“I had to check out the competition.”

“I'm still confused,” Brandon said.

“But pretty,” I said, with a smile, and Aaron nodded his agreement. “Look, Allan persuaded the Walrus to let him into the building to graffiti my door, and then got him to lie and say he'd seen Aaron doing it.”

“Persuaded how?”

“With his dick apparently.”

“Oh he does have a beautiful dick, I'll give him that.”

“I don't care how hung this kid is, I just want to see him hung by his balls.”

“So you said,” Aaron said.

“Where does he live, Brandon?”

“No idea, we always went to my place.”

“Well, call him. Get him here.”

Brandon pulled his phone out of his sock and called. “There's no answer.”

“Fuck, now what?”

“Where did you meet him anyway?”

“He came up to me at the bar.”

“Just some random?”

“Don't judge me,” Brandon said. “You're no saint.”

“That's not what I meant, Brandon. I just mean, maybe it was planned.”

“Planned? Maybe you're paranoid and he just wanted my ass. Everyone wants my ass.”

“Who can blame them?” Aaron said.

Brandon grinned. “Oh yeah? Well, we can definitely talk about that.”

I was both annoyed and jealous. “If you two don't mind.”

“Sorry, where was I?” Brandon said. “Oh yeah, look, I know you're going through a lot with Steven right now, but I really don't think Allan is smart enough to pull it off.”

He had me there. “Look, I just want to find out if he knows anything. Any idea where he could be?”

“No clue. He was going to meet me after work though, so he should be along shortly.”

I wasn't so sure. If he suspected I was onto him, and thought I was at the club, he'd avoid it. I pointed that out, and Aaron, right as always, pointed out that I didn't really have much of a choice.

We had to wait.

T
he bar closed, with no sign of Allan, surprise surprise, and, surprise surprise, he didn't answer when Brandon called. We stuck around as Brandon and the rest of the staff closed up, hoping Allan would call. Once the door was locked, the Hatter joined everyone at the bar, and slammed down a bottle of Patron.

“Shots for everyone.”

“I'm good,” I said.

“If you're staying, you're drinking. You too, Queen,” he said to Aaron.

“How did you know?”

“I'm the Hatter,” he said simply, pouring out shots. “Cheers!” We all raised our glasses, and tipped them back.

“I need a chaser,” I gagged, and Brandon slid down his beer, grabbing another from the cooler.

“I'll have one too,” Aaron said, “since we're drinking more.”

I should have stopped it right there. It was a feeling in the pit of my stomach, sickening and inevitable. We had a couple beers while Brandon cashed out, and then he tried to call Allan again, and there was still no answer. We gave up for the night; what choice was there?

We walked Brandon home, as he drunkenly and dramatically cried about yet another failed relationship. Neither of us had the heart to tell him that seven days hardly constituted a relationship. We talked about it after Brandon went up to his apartment, just there in the street, and then Aaron asked, “Did you want to come over?”

My head was light, and my heart was heavy, and my body was tired. His place was so close. “I don't think that's a good idea.”

“No sex, I promise.”

“Oh, I'm so drunk that wouldn't be an issue.”

“That's never stopped you before.” He grinned.

“Hush you.”

“Come over.”

“Maybe for a while.”

We didn't say much as we walked, and we didn't really say anything when we got to his apartment. He poured us nightcaps, and we sat there on the couch, and just sipped them.

“Aaron,” I said suddenly, just as he said, “Look, Alex, I know you've got a lot going on right now, and this is completely bad timing but—”

“Don't,” I said. “Just don't.” I looked at him, knowing what he wanted to say, and part of me wanted to at least hear him say it. We sipped our drinks. I got up and looked out the window. “Not much of a view,” I said, looking out onto the parking lot.

“It was never a long-term place.”

“What was it, Aaron? Did you really think this was the way to get me back?”

“I wasn't thinking. I just wasn't ready to completely say good-bye.”

“But we had said good-bye. It was done.”

“Is it still?” He wrapped his arms around me from behind. I felt myself tense, and then I relaxed back into his arms, my head on his shoulder.

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

“I bought a ring.”

“What?”

“For Steven. I was going to ask him to marry me. That's why I freaked out and went out and got high. That's why he found drugs on me, and broke up with me. And then he went missing.”

Aaron let out a huge breath, and then let go of me. “Why would you tell me that?”

“You needed to know.”

“You're here in my apartment, and we've spent all this time together, including fucking twice, and of course I'm going to start feeling all these old feelings. And then you stand there, while I'm holding you, and you tell me you were going to propose?” His eyes were teary. “Why did I need to know?”

“So you don't think this means more than it does,” I said, and I kissed him. He shuddered and shook and then was kissing me back. I don't know how long that kiss lasted, but I pulled away eventually. “Let's go to bed,” I said, grabbing his hand.

I
woke up before Aaron did and crawled out of bed slowly. He was sleeping there so peacefully, in our bed. I didn't want to wake him. We'd had our moment, and it was done. Now I had to find Allan and, hopefully, Steven. I got dressed as quietly as possible, and then I slipped out.

As I headed down the elevator, I thought that maybe I should have left a note or something. But a note implied more than I wanted it to be. It had been wrong, but it was a good-bye. What was that Bette Midler movie, where sometimes you needed to get it out of your system, one last time scratching an itch? That's all it had been.

Which didn't stop Aaron from texting me before I'd even flagged a cab outside.
You could've woken me.

What more could I say? In a way, he had done something grand and romantic and brave, the kind of crazy that our relationship had lacked there at the end. In another way though, he had done something completely insane, the kind of crazy that I couldn't just overlook. And even if I was able to, I had other more pressing crazy to deal with: Allan.

I texted Brandon, knowing he'd still be asleep but wanting to remind him to call me as soon as he got up. I sent out a mass text to Dinah and the twins letting them know that everything was good, or at least, that nothing had changed.

The cab dropped me off at my place, and I hopped out. When I got up to my apartment, there was a note taped to the door. “Sorry sorry sorry sorry,” it read, “I hope you can forgive me.” I glared at Walter's door, sure I would forgive him eventually but not in the mood to do so yet. All the time I'd wasted thinking it was Aaron behind everything, when really, it was that tweaked-out little twinkie I should have suspected right from the moment he pinned me against the wall at White Night.

Griffin was happy to see me, and I gave him a good scratching and some food as I figured out my next move. There wasn't much I could do really, other than wait, but I decided to go to Steven's and at least finish cleaning it up, and feed his fish. Did that make up for leaving him in the hands of a crazy person for a week? Did it make up for spending a night having what had been truly amazing and passionate sex with my ex? No, but it was a start.

The late September air was brisk as I walked to Steven's, ignoring the crowds of Saturday morning shoppers clogging up the downtown streets. I was all too aware of my phone not vibrating in my pants pocket, even as I was all too aware of the ring box, bulky and uncomfortable and pressing against my hip in the other pocket. I still wanted to marry him. All the drunken sexcapades of the week aside, Aaron being in town aside, I wanted Steven.

As I turned onto his block, I paused, and then did a quick about-face. There were two police cars outside of the house. I'd forgotten about them completely. I had myself so convinced to not go to them for help as per my orders from Allan or whoever it was. They hadn't been at the club last night, and that's where I'd told them Steven was meeting me. What were they thinking now that he hadn't contacted them yet? Was I considered a suspect in some unspecified crime?

I popped into a Starbucks about a block away and grabbed myself a Pumpkin Spice Latte. I sat at the window and watched the people go by, like Steven and I used to do on those rare chilly summer nights. What was he doing right now? Was he tied to a chair, crying and bleeding? Was he blindfolded? I could picture the bruises on his handsome face.

That's it,
I decided,
I'm going to talk to those officers. They'll find him for me, and then I can kiss away the bruises, both the ones on his skin, and the ones on his heart from everything I've done.

I was almost back at Steven's when my phone rang. It was Brandon. “Allan wants to meet me at my place. Want to come over and talk to him?”

“Yes. Yes I do.” I did an about-face again and headed toward Brandon's. The thought of pinning Allan up against the wall and getting some answers out of him made me smile hard for the first time in a long time. “When is he getting there?”

“Not for an hour.”

“I can be there in about fifteen. You're going to have to be nice.”

“Why? I'm pissed at him.”

“I want him comfortable and relaxed. He might be paranoid and jumpy so this is it, I'll wait until he's completely complacent, and then
BAM!
Twink goes down.”

I got to Brandon's and we talked for a while, waiting for Allan to buzz. As soon as he did, I hid in the closet, something I hadn't done in nearly fifteen years, I noted with a smile. It was a bit trite, maybe, hiding and then springing out in some big AHA moment, but a lot of this had been pretty B-movie drama anyway, so what was one more time?

Through the slightly open door, I could see Brandon pace, and the look on his face was still pretty annoyed.
He better pull himself together,
I thought. There was a knock on the door, and Brandon opened it. Allan flew into his arms and it was all I could do not to fly out at him right then. Somehow I restrained myself.

“Why didn't you come back last night?” Brandon asked, and I gritted my teeth. He was going to blow it.

“Sorry, I ran into some friends and we ended up partying till like seven this morning. I missed you though.”

Before I knew what was happening, Allan was stripping off his pants. Brandon looked askance in my direction, unsure what to do. I wasn't sure what to do either, but his dick was very impressive like I'd heard. Who'd've thought a twink that small would be hung like that? I couldn't help but watch as he started kissing Brandon hard, his hand inside the back of Brandon's jeans. He pushed Brandon down on the couch and was standing above him. His dick was even more impressive fully erect, and the thought of that massive dick plowing into Brandon's beautiful ass was more than enough to make me hard.

Before I got completely distracted, I threw the door open. Allan screamed, “What the fuck?” and started scrambling for his pants. I stepped in front of the door, cutting off his escape. “What the hell, Brandon? Alex, what are you doing here?” He pulled his pants on, and I couldn't help but be a little disappointed.

“If this is a threeway, I'm really not down for that.”

“Oh there's not going to be any threeway, kid. I want some answers.”

“Get the fuck out of my way. I'm leaving,” he said, and tried to push past me.

I held my ground. “You're not going anywhere, Allan. Not until you tell me everything you know about where Steven is.”

He grinned at me.