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.