Corps Security: The Series (142 page)

“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.”

He smiles sadly for a second, knowing damn well there was only one of our group who would ever willingly say YOLO.

The rest of the drive, we make small talk, but my nerves are too jumpy for me to really engage in any sort of conversation with him. I know I have a long road to go. I’m not instantly going to just be able to forget my past, but from this moment forward, I have to be willing to take a chance. I have to take a chance at what Emmy has been offering me and pray that I’m making the right decision. Because I don’t think I’ll be able to live with myself if my demons make my angel fall.

“There’s the Charger,” he says, breaking the silence we adopted about five minutes ago.

“Yup.”

“Do you need anything else?”

“Nope, I’m good—but I’ll let you know if that changes,” I say, stepping down from the Jeep. I turn back before I shut the door and let my lips tip up. “Thanks for . . . everything.”

His eyes flash at the shock of my words. “Yeah, any time. If you need me, just call.”

I nod my head, shut his door, and stride to the elevators. The garage is silent for the night, the majority of the tenants in the apartment complex home from wherever they’ve been—settled in for a night of relaxing. Not me though. Nope. Tonight, I’m going to claim my woman for good.

It’s time to let my angel in and hope that she can really help me battle all of this shit I carry around with me like dead weight.

CHAPTER 18

Maddox

The first thing I notice when I step into my apartment is the silence. Usually, I can always hear her tinkering around, even when she isn’t doing anything physically. Her soft singing, the pages of her book turning, or even the humming noises she makes when she’s asleep.

Cat greets me at the door with a deep meow, as usual. We’ve developed some weird friendship. Emmy used to laugh and say that Cat could recognize someone who needed a friend. Oh how right she was. I scratch Cat behind the ears and set off to look for her owner.

“Em?”

Nothing. A flash of apprehension over the situation starts to take over, but I push it aside and keep looking for her. The apartment isn’t huge, but it’s large enough that she might not have heard me.

A few minutes later, I realize that she really isn’t here. After walking into my bedroom, I sit on my bed and think about where the hell she could have gone. She doesn’t have her car because we still haven’t gotten it back from the cabin. I had Greg and Asher swing down and bring it back, knowing that, if I got anywhere near that place, I wouldn’t be leaving until there was blood on the ground. Devon said that we could leave it there as long as we needed, and since he wouldn’t be back for a few weeks, I haven’t been in any kind of rush. I liked having her dependent on me to get places.

With a deep sigh, I lean back and let my head hit the pillow—only to shoot back up when my head hits something besides the pillow.

I reach out with a shaking hand and pick up the note with my name written in Emmy’s flowing handwriting. I don’t want to open it, dreading what could be inside, but if I have any hopes of finding her tonight, this would be where to start.

Dear Maddox,

I used to think that my love for you would be strong enough for both of us. Some sort of weird platform that could hold anything you threw at me—and never break. I know now that I was sadly mistaken.

For as long as I’ve known you, I’ve felt a pull towards you like I’ve never known before. It’s no secret now that I haven’t had the best of beginnings in my life. Even with all of that in my past, I still had faith in love. Maybe I just had rose-colored glasses on. I’m not sure. But I wanted to believe that there was some sort of reward to be had for all the bullshit I had to deal with to get here.