Page 39 of Crave Me (The Good Ol' Boys 4)
I was in ICU for twenty-four hours before they transferred me to the detox unit, where I went through being medically withdrawn from the drugs. If there was anything to be thankful for, it would be for not dying and not having to experience the withdrawals awake. Since I ODâed and technically died for a split-second, I had to have a sitter with me twenty-four/seven. It was hospital protocol, to make sure I wasnât suicidal. I was mostly in and out of consciousness for the majority of my stay. They kept me sedated enough to where I barely felt any discomfort, just exhaustion.
I dreamt about Briggs mostly, except she wasnât how I remembered her.
My girl.
She looked like the woman that now belonged to Esteban. Smiling, laughing, loving him, as if I never existed. Even in my dreams I was still haunted, tormented by the truth of my reality.
By the third day they allowed immediate family to visit with me. My parents were beyond disappointed and furious but relieved that I was still alive. I immediately admitted that I needed help that I couldnât do this on my own. Realizing for the first time that I couldnât do it alone. I needed my family, and my friends. The people that loved me, to help in my recovery.
I didnât want to die, again. That was never my intention in the first place. I just didnât want to feel pain anymore. Dying once was enough for me to come to terms with the fact that if I continued this lifestyle, I would end up being a part of a goddamn statistic with a sad fucking story.
My parents set me up with the best rehab facility in North Carolina, my treatment plan was going to be intense and I would be transferred into it in the next few days. It would become my new home for the next six months. My parents didnât ask many questions, but I knew it was only a matter of time before everything was laid out on the table.
My demons were emerging from the darkness, coming into the light.
Over the last two days, they allowed the boys and Alex to visit. They were on the same page as my parents. I think everyone was just fucking relieved that I was still here and had a second chance at life. I hadnât asked for Briggs. I knew now more than ever that she fucking hated me. My mom told me she was the one that found me and she was the reason I was alive.
She saved my life.
Again.
The last thing I remembered was seeing her with Esteban. The image would be forever ingrained in my mind. Burned into my soul.
My mistakes. My choices My weaknesses.
Cost me the love of my life.
She unknowingly slipped through my grasps. That was the hardest pill for me to swallow. Seeing her move on was my rock bottom.
She was now the one that got away.
It was the last day of my hospital stay before I was discharged to the rehab facility. I would be lying if I said I wasnât scared of my future and everything it had in store for me.
A life without Briggs.
I shut my eyes, needing a moment of clarity. A few seconds to calm my plaguing thoughts.
âI love you, Daisy. Iâll always love you. No matter what.â
She smiled. âI know. Iâm yours.â
I immediately opened my eyes sensing her presence. There she was, standing by the open door, her dark brown hair flowing all around her face. She was a sight for sore eyes, wearing jeans with a sweater and her favorite tattered Chucks. She looked so tired like she hadnât slept in days. Once again I was the reason for her discomfort and pain. Dark circles were prominent under her swollen eyes.
She was still so fucking beautiful.
Beautifully broken.
âHey,â she announced, barely above a whisper.
I smiled. I couldnât help it. âHey,â I rasped.
We both stared at each other, lost in our own thoughts. I looked over at my sitter with a pleading expression. I couldnât be left alone. They even had cameras set up in my room, watching my every move. The nurse was in there with all my visitors, overhearing every private conversation. I silently prayed she would grant my request this one time.
She met my eyes, and then peered back at Briggs.
âYouâre Briggs?â she stated, raising her eyebrows.
âYes.â
âHe owes you his life, young lady.â She nodded toward me.
âIn a way, I owe him my life, too. So I guess weâre even,â Briggs said out of nowhere, bringing my attention back to her.
âYou have twenty minutes. Iâm going to get some coffee, and I will be standing right outside that door. No funny business, okay?â
I held up three fingers. âScouts honor.â
She left, closing the door behind her. Briggs didnât move from where she was standing against the wall. The craving to hold her was as powerful as the craving to use had been.
Both were deadly for me.
âYour hair,â I coaxed, nodding to her, breaking the silence between us.
She smiled, grabbing the ends and looking down at them.
âYeah,â she simply stated not elaborating any further.
Awkward silence filled the space between us.
âYou still have your tattoos, right?â I chuckled.
She nodded never breaking eye contact, finally asking, âSo, how do you feel?â Like sheâd been waiting to ask since she found me in the warehouse.
I shrugged. âLike shit. Which is better than I deserve. Youâre looking at me like Iâm going to break or something, Briggs.â
She shook her head, looking down at the ground. I immediately regretted saying something.
âYou werenât breathing, Austin. I couldnât feel your heart, your pulse. You died right in front of me.â She rubbed her forehead, deeply sighing as if she was reliving it all over again in her mind.
âAre you okay?â I asked, pulling her away from her thoughts.
She eyed me cautiously. âI was. I think. I donât even know anymore.â She pushed off the wall and walked over to sit in the chair by the side of my bed. âI left the hospital when they told us you were going to be okay. I had every intention of not coming back. But my mind has stayed with your unconscious body in the warehouse, Austin. I see you lying there on that filthy floor, unresponsive every time I close my damn eyes. I havenât been able to sleep since that night. I keep thinking that if Dylan hadnât called me first, I wouldnât have answered your call. Or what if I hadnât been in Oak Island when I answered you. You would have died. My therapistââ
âTherapist?â I frowned.
âIâve been seeing her since I left you. Sheâs been helping me understand everything. My childhood, my uncle, you, me, us⦠fuck, my life, I guess. She told me that I was the one that ran away from you. I would never be able to move on until we had closure or some sense of peace. It was then that I realized I never changed my phone number even after she told me I needed to. I knew⦠I knew in my heart that this was going to happen. Subconsciously, I had been waiting for it,â she paused to let her words sink in.
Peering around the room for a few seconds, battling a visible internal struggle in her mind. She didnât have to tell me what she was about to say. I knew it from the moment I opened my eyes and saw her standing in front of me.
I said it for her instead, âYouâre here to say goodbye.â
Briggs
We locked eyes.
Seeing each other's truths for the first time in two and a half years.
âYes.â I nodded. âI canât run away from you again. It almost killed me as much as it did you, the last time. I need to say my peace and walk away this time.â
âIâm going to rehab tomorrow. For the next six months. Iâll be there getting my shit together. Getting my head out of my ass and back in the real world. I guess both of us have some healing to do," he stated, grabbing the cup of water on his bedside table and taking a drink.
I didn't falter. âWhy are you going to rehab?â
He narrowed his eyes at me, confused.
âIs it for your parents? Your friends? Me? At the end of the day you need to go there for you, A
ustin. Your recovery, your sobriety. It needs to be something that you want, not what everyone else wants for you. If you donât want it, if your head isn't in the right place, all youâre doing is wasting everyoneâs time. Especially your own. See, I learned that was the biggest problem in our relationship. You always got better for me, for us. Never for you. As much as I hoped and prayed that it would be enough, it wasnât. It never was. I canât want it for you. Your parents and friends can't want it for you. No one can. You have to want it for yourself.â
He took in every single word that came out of my mouth. Listening intently. I could see it in his eyes, he knew I was right, and that gave me hope for him.
âI saw you.â
I lowered my eyebrows, cocking my head to the side. Not understanding what he was talking about.
âWith Esteban.â
I grimaced, jerking back stunned. âWhat? How?â
âDo you love him, Daisy?â he asked not answering my questions.
Staring deep into my eyes, willing me to answer him truthfully. Now was as good a time as any to get out what I've been holding in for so long.
âI went back to New York after I left our home. I lived with my uncle in the same penthouse I hated growing up in. I stayed there for a little over a month, trying to stand on my own two feet but still stumbling every time I stood. When I was ready to be on my own again, I moved into another condo he owned in Manhattan. I ran into Esteban at the park one afternoon, a little over a year and a half ago. It was nice to see a familiar face when I still felt so fucking lost. We went and grabbed some coffee together, and I ended up pouring my heart out to him. He sat there and listened to our sad story for three hours.â
I shook my head, remembering that day as if it happened yesterday.
âHe was different but still the same, if that makes any sense. We exchanged numbers and said our goodbyes. For the first time in my life I had a friend that wasnât you. One night a year ago we drank a little too much, and one thing led to another.â
He immediately shut his eyes, the hurt evident all around him. Radiating deep into my core. I hated knowing that I was hurting him. I hated knowing that he was probably craving to use. But I needed to tell him this. He needed to know.
As much as it killed me inside.
âIâm not saying this to hurt you. I swear the last thing I want is for you to leave here and go use, Austin.â
âDo you love him, Briggs?â he repeated with a hard edge to his tone.
âDoes it really matter?â
He immediately opened his eyes with a pained look in his glare like I had never seen before.
âIs he the cause of your makeover?â he accused, taking in my new appearance. âYouâre not mine anymore. Youâre his.â
I bowed my head not knowing how to reply. What was the right or wrong answer? I just shook my head, looking everywhere but at him.
âDid you hear any of my messages? Did you know how much I was hurting? How much I looked for you, like I did the first time you left me in Miami? I saw you everyday, Daisy. You may have not been real, but I still saw my girl. My Daisy. It was the main reason I used so fucking much. I stayed high to be near you.â
Tears streamed down my face, the ones I had been trying so hard to keep at bay.
âWhen I saw you with Esteban, it literally almost killed me. I died standing there watching him touch my girl, kissing the lips that I claimed as mine a long time ago. Iâm not blaming you for my piss-poor decisions. I never meant for any of this to happen to us. I wanted to give you the world, Briggs. Everything you never had. The house, the white picket fence, a million shitlins running around the yard,â he chuckled, leaning forward to catch one of my tears.
âI love you more than anything in this world, baby. I lost sight of what was important. I fucked up, and I canât take that back,â he paused, his voice breaking. âIâm no good for you. At least not right now. I canât keep doing this to you. I love you too fucking much to not let you be happy. Thatâs why I ODâd. You deserve to be happy with or without me. I have to let you go even though itâs the last thing I want to fucking do right now.â
I wiped away the tears from my face, feeling like he just ripped out my heart and stomped all over it. I couldnât fucking breathe.
âBut none of that matters now. I have to let you go. Set you free. I love you. Iâll always fucking love you,â he added, making my heart explode.
I nodded unable to form words, but it didnât matter because there was nothing left to say. We said everything that mattered.
I stood, turning to leave. He instantly grabbed my hand, pulling me into his arms. Before I even realized what was happening, I was sobbing against his chest with his strong arms wrapped around me, feeling him cry too.
âIâm sorry, baby. I know you hate those words, but Iâm so fucking sorry for everything I put you through. I put us through. I ruined us when all you did was try to save us. Losing you will be my biggest regret in life. I love you so much, and I need you to please never ever forget that. Pleaseâ¦â he begged in a tone I had never heard from him before.
âI love you too, Austin,â I bellowed as he held me tighter.
I stayed there in his arms, both of us knowing this was our end. This was goodbye. I pulled away first, and he wiped away all my tears, kissing all along my face for the last time. I sucked in air that wasnât available for the taking, standing to leave. His arms falling to his sides, empty. I made my way toward the door, trying like hell not to look back at his broken expression.
I didnât want to remember him like that.
âDaisy,â he called out as I walked out the door.
I stopped, waiting on pins and needles for what he was going to say.
âWhere did the name Briggs come from?â
I chuckled, grateful that he was trying to end this on a good note. For the both of us. I spun to face him.
âSheâs Twilight Sparkle. It was a doll with bright purple hair that my parents wouldnât buy for me. I was holding her at the grocery store the night they died. Her name was Briggs,â I said, for the first time.
I had never told anyone where the name came from.
âIt was the last time I was happy, so I took her name.â
He smiled, taking me in.
Every last expression.
Every last movement.
Every last word.
Wanting to remember me anyway he could. I did the same. Giving him one last, beautiful smile. He caught it in the air and placed it near his heart. Exactly how I knew he would.
I turned back around.
And left.
Chapter 40
Austin
âHi, my name is Austin Taylor, and Iâm a drug addict,â I announced like I had done at every NA meeting I attended.
Except this one was different.
âItâs been six months since I took my last hit in a warehouse downtown, where I ODâd. I actually died that night.â I let out a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of my neck. âThis is my last day in the facility, and Iâm receiving my six-month sobriety chip tonight,â I paused, while everyone around me applauded.
âI canât say this has been the hardest thing Iâve ever had to do. This time itâs been different in every aspect. The first time I was in recovery for four years. Trying to find solid ground when everything was shaking around me. I got sober for my girl. I stayed sober for her. I went to therapy for her. I worked through my steps for her. I went to meetings, and talked to my sponsor, I did everything for her. Not me. I was a ticking time bomb during those four years, waiting to fucking explode. Until one day I did. Spiraling out of control.â
I peered around the room, gazing from the boys, to Alex, to my parents. Everyone who loved me was there, hearing my story for the first time.
Except, the one person who mattered.
The one person I wanted.
âIn the end, I lost my girl. I hit rock bottom the day I figured that out. My therapist tells
me that I have never been able to talk about my emotions, and that has been the cause of most of my problems. Hereâs the thing, Iâve always wanted to fit in. With my family, with my friends, with the people that have always mattered the most to me. Never realizing that I was slowly causing my own demise. Tearing rifts between the people I loved. When youâre young, you think that you know everything, and that was one of my biggest downfalls,â I paused to let my words sink in.
My mom smiled and winked at me, giving me the courage to keep going.
âIâm scared every morning when I wake up. I have feelings, emotions, and memories that I struggle with on a daily basis. Iâd self-medicated to numb the pain, to not feel anything anymore. Look at it this way, I was a human garbage disposal. Blaming my problems on everyone, but myself. Iâm not proud of the things Iâve done. Iâm more ashamed than anyone could possibly ever know. Iâm learning to forgive myself. Iâm learning to love myself. And for the first time Iâm here, wanting to get better for me. I want it. I need it. I deserve it.â
Alex wiped a tear from her face, smiling at me.
âAll I can do is take it one day at a time, and ask for help. Thank you,â I smiled, stepping off the podium.
Everyone stood up and applauded as I made my way down the aisle, toward my family and friends.
My mom was the first to hug me. âI am so proud of you, baby.â
My dad shook my hand. âYou did good, son.â
âBro, that was some deep shit,â Dylan praised, patting my back.
âYou really did amazing, Austin. Weâre very proud of you,â Aubrey added, pulling me into a hug.
Lucas, Jacob, and Lily were next. They all congratulated me, and headed to the refreshment table, leaving Alex and I alone. I pulled up a chair next to her, flipping it around to sit on it backwards.
âThat was amazing. Youâre an inspiration,â she stated, smiling.
âI didnât sound like too much of a pussy, huh?â I laughed, trying to get a rise out of her.
âI always knew you were the strongest among the boys, Austin.â She nudged my shoulder.