by Harper Sloan
Then, as if things couldn’t get worse, I have the misfortune of overhearing their conversation and my mood goes from bad to toxic.
Chelcie has just finished telling him how she was dealing with everything after Sarah Jane. I watch her place her arm on his cheek and he doesn’t pull away. I should feel bad about eavesdropping, but the fact that he isn’t pulling away from her is mind-blowing enough for me.
He’s let her in.
He’s let in someone I know he feels nothing romantic for, yet he keeps pushing me away.
“One day, Maddox Locke, when you decide to let go of that pain inside you, you’re going to understand what I mean. You have so much love to give in you.” Chelcie’s words hurt. She’s right—I know that because I’ve seen that love he has the capability of—but it still doesn’t make it feel any better knowing that it probably is not meant to be with us.
I can’t see his face, but I watch Chelcie’s eyes widen in shock. Oh I know what she saw—the truth. She saw his pain clear as day. The pain he keeps away from everyone, choosing to suffer alone and not let anyone close enough to help.
“Yeah, sweetheart. Maybe you’re right.”
His words are my undoing. He really doesn’t want me. Hell, maybe he does believe that he can love someone now—now that he’s gotten better about being so untouchable. But . . . he clearly doesn’t feel like I’m worth that risk. I’m standing right here, begging him to let me take on his pain, yet it isn’t enough.
With my eyes filling with tears, I watch as he walks right past me. He doesn’t even look in my direction. I’m completely invisible.
As the evening progresses, my despair and bitterness grow. I smile with the girls, attempt to put on a brave face for the guys—but Maddox gets nothing. Until I hear Asher announce that he and Chelcie are getting married and he actually has the nerve to look smug. His eyes go from laughing at Chelcie to emotionless when they lock with mine.
I snap . . . There really isn’t a pretty way to explain what I feel in that moment. I’m just . . . done.
“You’re fucking unbelievable,” I mumble, careful to keep my voice low enough so that only he hears me.
His brow lifts and he cockily asks, “What was that, Em?”
That son of a bitch. I can feel my skin heat. Not from embarrassment, but from red-hot rage.
I jump from my seat, not even flinching when it falls to the floor with a crowd-stopping boom. I storm over, grabbing his beer for a deep pull while I try and pick my words carefully. If these are the last ones I ever speak to him, I need to make sure they count.
“Look at you. Sitting there silent as always. You’re in a room full of people who love each other. People who have fought their demons in order to be together. They had the strength to battle anything that stood in their way. The courage to push away from the uncertainty of the unknown. And what does Maddox Locke do? He sits back and gives everyone else around him advice on how to make that happen! He fights for them, but he refuses to fight for himself. FOR ME! Well guess what, buddy? I’m sick of it. I love you FOR you. I never gave a damn about your past, those secrets you hide so deep. I’ve been willing to fight for you. Battle those demons that shake your doors at night. And while I’m at it, I might as well go for broke, right?” I laugh a sound that is nothing sort of the frustration I’m feeling. “I never gave a damn about you having one leg. You think you’re slick hiding it, but I see you! I didn’t love you for whatever limbs you have or don’t have. I want you for your heart, and I won’t settle for anything less.”
I throw him a look that I know he takes seriously because his eyes flash. He doesn’t move though. He lets me walk over to Asher and Chelcie. He gives me the time to say goodbye and apologize for ruining the night. He doesn’t move when I walk to the door, turning to give him another look. He sits there—and that’s it.
Luckily, when we got here, he asked me to hold his keys, so with a wicked grin, I hop in his Charger and take off. I’ll stay in a local hotel room for the night—then decide where I go next.
CHAPTER 16
Emmy
It doesn’t take me long to clear my things from his apartment. I decide to leave Cat, mainly because I have no where to bring her and all the things that she needs, but also so that Maddox will see this as me not running.
I’m not. I’m going to get myself settled away from him and work on learning how to get him out of my heart. I can do it . . . I think.
My phone rings over and over shortly after I leave Asher and Chelcie’s, but I ignore it. I know my window of opportunity is short, and if I stall at all, he will be here and throw his demanding alpha vibes up—refusing to let me leave.
Not wanting to take his Charger and further fuel his anger, I make a call to the only person I can think of who can help me out right now.
Sway.
“Well hello, you dark prince you,” his voice chimes through the line, leaving me confused—until I realize that I’m on Maddox’s landline.
“Hey,” I whisper. “I hate to disappoint you, Sway, but I don’t think I’m your dark prince.”
“Why do you sound like that, Miss Emmy?”
There aren’t many times when we get the Sway he keeps hidden. Deep down, I know he loves us more than we could ever know. Hearing the care and worry in his voice is almost my undoing, but I hold strong.
“Do you think you could pick me up? My car is still . . . My car isn’t here and I need to leave.”
“Sure thing, darling girl. Let me get things settled and I’ll be right there.”
“Thank you, Sway. I owe you one.”
“Far as I can see were even, my love.”
Confused at his words, I ask, “How could we possible call it even, Sway?”
He’s silent for a beat. I can hear him moving around, clearly using this time to pick his words. “Everything happens for a reason, Emmy. I know that now. As much as I hated seeing you gone day in and day out, you brought my Davey to me. So, yes . . . we’re even. If anything, I still owe you,” he laughs.
I heard about Davey, or David, through the gang. He is my replacement at Corps Security. Apparently, according to Melissa, not too long after he started, he and Sway began a relationship that has only grown since. I’m glad that he’s happy—he deserves to be happy.
“I’ll be in the lobby waiting, okay?” I question, ready to get off the phone and on my way.
“Toodles! Sway is on the way to save the day,” he giggles into the phone before disconnecting.
With a heavy heart, I grab a piece of paper and write Maddox a note.
True to his word, Sway didn’t waste any time getting to me. He loaded up my few belongings into his car and we were on our way. He must have come straight from home because he’s dressed in simple—even if they are hot pink—sweats and a tee. His wig is absent, giving me one of those rare glimpses at him without his public persona.
“Sway . . . uh, do you really, like, sweat glitter or something?” I ask when I notice that his floorboards are sprinkled with golden glitter.
I’ve always thought it was hilarious how obsessed this man is with gold glitter. First, he painted the sidewalk in the complex that his salon and Corps Security are housed completely in it. Then the guys would randomly run into him and his glitter-throwing ways, coming into the office and dusting it off all over the floors. I can’t even remember how many times I had to clean that junk up. Regardless of why, it always seems to make everyone smile.
“I probably should by now,” he laughs.
Not wanting to be alone with my thoughts, I tell him which hotel to take me to and ask, “So what started all of this craziness?” I laugh.
He’s quiet for a moment, so unlike Sway, so I turn my attention back out the window.
“It all started when I was maybe fifteen, sixteen—hell, I don’t know. Back then, I was still begging for my parents to stop calling me Dilbert,” he laughs. “My parents are both preachers,” he says, shocking me. My eyes widen and I jerk my head in his direction
. “Oh, that got your attention, didn’t it, sweetness? Yeah, I was a black man born in the Deep South, gay as it gets, with two preachers for parents. It probably couldn’t have gotten worse for me. They ignored me the best they could but refused to let . . . well, Sway out. I had to be Dilbert when anyone was around.” He pauses and I settle into the silence around me.
“The only time I was really happy was at Sunday school, at school, or drama class. The art supplies—oh, girlfriend. You should have seen how much I could make a simple piece of construction paper shine like a queen! I guess, in a way, between art projects and costumes for drama, the glitter became my lifeline to keeping my happiness about me. We all have that thing, you know? That one thing that is calming for us. The one thing that, even when your world feels hollow, can make you feel whole. So, as silly as it is, mine is gold glitter. It’s my happy.”
I wipe a wayward tear from my cheek and smile softly at him. “You’re pretty awesome. You know that?”
He laughs and shakes his head.
“I mean it! Do you know how many times the guys would be in a terrible mood, go out and meet with a client, only to come back and be on the receiving end of your glitter throwing? Every single time, they would come back into the office and seem lighter. It was almost like a mood cleaner. You toss some of that stuff in the air and it’s like the people around you are helpless to not feel a little of your happy.”
He pulls into the hotel and parks, turning in his seat to look at me. One thick and manicured hand comes up and smooths my hair down. I smile at him and enjoy the lightness of the moment.
Until he speaks.
“And pray tell, my sweet little honey pot, what is your happy?” His hand leaves my head and reaches out to pull one of my cold ones into his hold, enveloping it between his own.
“What?” I ask faintly.
“You heard me. What is it that calms you? Makes your hollow whole again?” His voice is soft, his eyes searching without judgment—even though he knows the answer.
“I don’t have one anymore, Sway.” That’s as honest as I can be. I never had Maddox, as much as I had hoped during our time at the cabin. He’s the uncatchable.
“Oh, you sweet child. You have a happy, and as soon as you both let go of the bullshit, you’ll have that happy together.”
“You talk in riddles, you crazy man,” I laugh mirthlessly.
“I talk the truth. I’ve seen a lot of pain in my life, Emmy-Rose. I know another hurting soul when I see it, and that man is hurting. You don’t just forget that instantly. You’ve fought for him, and while I admire your strength, it’s time for you to let him fight to believe in you and that love . . . that happy.”
“Easier said than done.”
He smiles, his bright, white teeth almost glowing in the dim interior of his car. “Mark my words, he knows what he can have, and one day soon, you’re going to wonder what it’s like to breathe without that tall glass of hotness on your toes. I suspect you won’t wait much longer either.” He leans forward and kisses my forehead.
“I love you. You know that?”
“Of course I do, darlin.’ Everyone loves Sway,” he says with a laugh.
I climb out of the car and meet him around the back, grabbing my stuff from the trunk and placing it on the luggage cart. His arms are around me before I can even say thank you and goodbye.
“Chin up, buttercup,” he whispers in my ear, and I feel a rush of calming peace settle over me.
A few hours, one dead cell phone, and room service later, I’m ready to call it a night. I have plans to spend tomorrow figuring out where the hell I go now. Do I stick around, continue this tiring battle of the wills with Maddox? Or do I work on finding a new path—a path without Maddox and the family I love here?
I know I’m stupid to continue to find something worth fighting for in Maddox. He’s made it clear that he doesn’t want me—or better yet, that he does but he can’t, whatever that means. I might never get through to him, but I really feel like if I don’t try at least one more time—with everything I have in me—I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.
He needs someone to believe in him, and I’m guessing he’s never had that. He needs someone who never gives up on him, since I’m guessing that’s all he’s been used to the vast majority of his life.
He needs his ‘happy,’ as Sway calls it.
And I just hope it’s me.
I fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow with the determination that I can do this. I just have to toughen up a little, chin up, and YOLO.
“That’s it, buttercup.”
CHAPTER 17
Maddox
What a fucking mess. I should have known that, the second I got my head out of my ass and allowed myself to believe a little in what I could have, she’d snap. She gives me everything I have been working to get since I started foolishly pushing her away.
The second she finished reaming my ass, that flickering flame of hope burst into an inferno.
She’s right; I hid behind playing some twisted matchmaker. Fixing my friends around me, all the while falling deeper into myself. I used their issues to distract them from me. I used each and every one of them to keep them out.
“Uh, where is your car, brother?” Greg snickers from behind me.
“Looks like he was too busy being a giant ass and it got swiped right from under him,” Asher laughs.
“Hilarious,” I say, not turning from where I’m looking at the space where my Charger should be parked. My lips twitch at the thought of my sweet little Emmy stealing my car.
“That’s what you get for pissing her off,” Axel laughs.
I shrug my shoulder, not willing to get into this with them. It really shouldn’t matter; all but Asher have seen me at my worst, so this is a walk in the park for them.
“Just out of curiosity, is this when we all take the advice you’ve been giving us for years now and give it back? Because hey, I’m not a chick, so I’m not really sure how these little special moments are supposed to go, but I’m willing to wing it.”
They all laugh when Beck chimes in. I turn and take in the four men standing in front of me, meeting each of their eyes to figure out what I’m supposed to say.
“Maddox Locke?” a little voice calls from behind the guys.
“Yeah, C-Man?” I should have known that Cohen, Greg and Melissa’s son, would find us out here. He’s been one of the guys ever since he went through some crazy shit a few years ago.
“I thought you were gonna bring Aunt Emmy home forever and ever.”
“Leave it to the kid to say what we’re all thinking.”
I don’t know who said it; I’m too busy looking at Cohen, his expressive, brown eyes locked with mine.
“You’re a big, brave superhero, Maddox Locke. I know it because you helped me bring my mommy back. You told me I needed to be brave and strong and show her my love. That’s all you have to do. When Mommy is mad at Daddy, he just tickles her until they start making funny noises.” He puts his small, balled-up fist on his hips and gives Greg as hard a look as he can when he starts choking on his laughter. “I bet if you smiled real big like that she would like that. You don’t smile a lot, Maddox Locke.”
I clear my throat and look up at the guys for some help. They all seem to be just as shocked with how much the little dude takes in from all of us.
“Yeah, C-Man, I think you’re right. I might even try that smiling stuff you’re talking about.”
“Woohoo!” he yells, spinning on his small feet and slapping my body with his cape that is always tied around his neck. “Mommy! Aunt Dee! He said I was right and he’s gonna smile!” he screams, running back in the house.
I lock eyes with the guys, each of us struggling to hold it in, before we all burst out laughing. It feels so foreign to me that I have to wonder, is this what happiness feels like?
“You want me to give you a lift? Chelcie can handle things before I get back,” Asher asks when the others go back
inside.
“Yeah, brother. I’d like that.”
He smiles, gives me a nod, and runs inside to get the keys to his Jeep.
The ride back to the apartment is pretty quiet. I know it’s not going to last long; Asher isn’t exactly a silent thinker. Sometimes, I swear the wheels can be heard clanking around in his head before he even gets his words out. I guess part of the way he and Coop grew up taught him to pick his words carefully, and I can respect that, so I give him the time he needs.
Well, at least I try to give him the time he needs—it isn’t like I live hours away.
“Just spit it out, Asher. I know you have something to say, so you might as well get it out before we hit the apartment complex, because the second you roll up there, I’m out.”
“Right,” he starts. “So . . . that picture I found?”
“That’s all you want to ask me? About a picture you found weeks ago in a forgotten box deep in my closet?” I clarify.
“Well, I was just wondering if your nightmare—you know you called that picture that—had gotten better.”
“I’m working on it,” I tell him honestly.
“And do you remember when you told me to wake up and realize there’s more to live for? I know you’ve seen some shit, Mad. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have been able to hit so close to home with your words months ago. You once told me to stop beating myself up over things I had no control over, and the Maddox Locke I know is no goddamn hypocrite, so I have to ask—are you done with your shit?”
I keep looking at his profile for a second, noticing for the first time just how nervous he was to throw all that out there. Then, for the second time tonight, I throw my head back and laugh.
“Yeah, Asher. You know what they say: YOLO.”
It’s pretty ridiculous that it takes a five-year-old kid to make me wake the hell up and take a chance. Jesus, I can’t believe I just fucking said ‘YOLO.’
The Jeep swerves slightly when his head jerks in my direction. “Did you just YOLO me?”
Still laughing, I reply, “Yeah, asshole. Someone wise once told me that was the best way to live your life.”