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“The cat. The cat had a—over there!” I pointed at a window past an expanding river of fire. It was a cat perch, sitting on the windowsill, being held up by the window itself. I remembered Billie complaining about it and how it made him feel slightly exposed because he couldn’t completely shut the window but that he couldn’t deny Artemis the view. He was going to return it and buy another one but thankfully never did.
“Run!” Ryan pulled my arm as he jerked up and bolted, dragging me behind him. Flames licked at my ankles, singeing my brows, tickling the nape of my neck. The ceiling groaned louder, the strain growing by the second.
We only had seconds. No doubt in my mind. We were running out of time. If we couldn’t get this window open, then we’d be royally fucked.
Ryan reached the window and yanked the cat perch off, throwing it back. He grabbed the window and pushed upward and… yes! It opened. It fucking opened.
A rush of fresh air battled with the toxic fumes threatening to drown us.
“Go, go!” Ryan almost pushed me out of the window, my shoulders scraping against the side. I turned, grabbing Ryan’s hands and helping him out. It was a tighter squeeze for him, but he made it, falling on the ground on top of me as fire started to climb out of the window, stretching up toward the darkening skies.
As if on cue, a loud boom-crack ripped through the air as the ceiling caved in. I covered my face in Ryan’s chest and cried, unsure of what exactly to feel except relief. We’d made it, just barely, by the hair of our singed chins. And Billie… he had been inside. The one who started this all was no longer, ended in a blaze of macabre glory, the way he wanted me to go.
I would have been wearing that dress if I hadn’t known any better. A dozen different cell phone videos would have captured me going up in flames.
“Are you okay?” Ryan asked, kissing my forehead. Police sirens and blaring fire trucks could be heard growing louder and louder, competing with the sounds of the burning building. “It’s over now. It’s all over, baby.”
I cried as we put space between us and the fire. I wept into Ryan’s chest as the police came to ask us what the hell was happening. I couldn’t hold it together as the EMTs looked us over and treated us for our injuries.
It was only when Ryan and I were lying in bed, all the lights on and a silly movie playing on the TV, that I was able to finally take a breath. An actual breath that filled my lungs and made me feel alive. I turned to Ryan, looking into his exhausted blue eyes and being careful not to touch his bandaged arm.
“You were right,” I said, my voice soft. “You really do have to ride out the wreck. The world eventually stops spinning, and the moment of peace—this moment—it’s so worth waiting for.” I kissed his cheek, nestling into his neck, filling my nose with his scent.
“I hate that I needed a real-world example to prove my point, but I am glad you see it now.”
I chuckled before kissing him again. “I love you, Ry. So fucking much.”
“I love you too, baby.”
We didn’t sleep much that night, and that was totally fine with me. All I wanted to do was lie there and soak in Ryan’s presence. I finally felt at home with him. His heart proved a home that no one could take from me, and I never wanted that feeling to be interrupted, not even by sleep.
Epilogue
Ryan Diaz
“Please welcome to the stage, Blue Divine, along with her drag daughters, Sunshine and Majesty!” Jen announced over the microphone.
The crowd exploded into cheers as the lights dimmed and the spotlight turned to the main stage. The Queen’s Throne had gone through a remodeling over the past few months, making the stage much wider. The lights and sound system resembled something that would be seen in stadiums, and there were two massive screens behind the stage that allowed the queens and kings some more creative freedom when it came to their performances.
The screens displayed our drag family names in bold print as we strutted out to the center, the crowd still cheering. Our names faded out and were replaced by the name of tonight’s show, “A Divine Night of Drag and Charity,” and underneath it was the charity that Blue’s event was raising money for: “House of Smiles—working to end the homeless youth crisis.”
We lined up and waved at the gathered group. I felt like a celebrity coming out at a convention. There were so many faces I recognized in the crowd: Austin and Charlie sitting with their freshly anointed ring fingers catching the light as they clapped, their table full of Stonewall detectives. Even the new guy was here—Jason Quill, a smiley dude who moved to Blue Creek after college, sporting one of the most intricate and eye-catching sleeve tattoos I’d ever seen.
