Page 40 of Crave Me (The Good Ol' Boys 4)

  “I don’t know about all that, Half-Pint. None of them are fucked up.”

  “I do. To come back from everything you have been through, and admit your defeat. That takes more courage than anyone could ever imagine.”

  “You sound like my therapist. I should just hire you, instead of paying out my ass for the one I have,” I said jokingly, making her laugh.

  “I have something for you.” She reached into her bag, pulling out what looked like a book. “I met Briggs for lunch a few days ago. She’s doing great, Austin. She looks healthy and happy.”

  I nodded. “That’s good to hear, Alex. Thanks for telling me.”

  “That’s not all.”

  I cocked my head to the side, arching an eyebrow.

  “She told me everything.”

  “Everything?” I replied, caught off guard.

  “You protected her, Austin. From day one, she was all that ever mattered to you.”

  I rubbed the back of my neck. “I guess she did tell you everything then. I’m going to tell them all eventually. My therapist and sponsor know already, but I’m not ready to remember all that yet.”

  “I understand. You can tell everyone when you’re good and ready to. I won’t say a word. I promise.”

  “Thank you,” I said, feeling more at ease.

  “Did you know that she liked to write?”

  I took a deep breath in and slowly blew it out. I hadn’t really talked about Briggs with anyone other than my therapist.

  “She loves to read, Half-Pint. I honestly think she’s read every romance book out there, twice. She loved living in the fantasies, experiencing what she never had. I knew she liked to journal and stuff. What’s this about?”

  “After you took over for her uncle, she started writing one day. As things progressed with you over the years, she started writing down memories and her feelings. She said it was her way to cope with what was happening to you. It helped her, Austin.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  Alex looked down at the book in her lap, handing it to me a few seconds later. It was a black hardback with the words “Crave Me” written in silver lettering. I glanced back at Alex still confused.

  “It’s your story.”

  I jerked back. “What? You fucking with me?” I shook my head in disbelief.

  “She told me that after she’d left you, her therapist recommended for her to put all the entries together from over the years and add to it. It was a way to realize her growth and how far she’s come. It started off like her therapist suggested, but it took a life of it’s own. She ended up writing your love story.”

  My eyes widened. Shocked to the core from what she was telling me.

  “She thought reading it, might help you heal like it helped her. She wanted me to tell you that you don’t have to read it, but she wanted you to have the very first manuscript. It’s been picked up by a publisher, Austin Briggs is an author.”

  My hands started shaking, knowing that I was holding Briggs’ soul under my fingertips. Alex stood up and I followed suit.

  “She also wanted me to tell you that she was proud of you,” she relayed, pulling me into a tight hug.

  I kissed the top of her head, held up the book, and told her thank you, smiling at her as she walked away. I wanted to leave. I wanted to go lock myself in my new room and read Briggs’ book from start to finish. Anxiously waiting for when I would be alone to do just that, but my parents were walking towards me. They were taking me to dinner, and then dropping me off at my new “sober living” facility. I told them I wanted to continue living in a controlled environment. I wasn’t ready to be on my own yet. Not ready to step out into the world where temptation and triggers were all around me. I’d be staying there for another six to eight months, more or less.

  “You did so great, honey. We are so proud of you,” Mom praised again, kissing my cheek. “You’ve come such a long way, but you still have a long road ahead of you. We will be by your side every step of the way.”

  “I know, Mom. Thank you.”

  And I did; I wasn’t cured by any means. She lovingly nodded, excusing herself to go use the restroom.

  “Your mother is right, Austin. We will always be here for you,” Dad agreed, bringing my attention back to him. “I’ve made so many mistakes, son. More than I care to remember. I keep telling myself that if I would have let you go to art school, if I’d let you become the man you wanted to be, if I hadn’t—”

  “You can’t do that, Pop. I’m the only one that’s to blame for my choices. No one else. You did what you thought was best for me, like I imagine any parent would. I may have not seen it that way back then, but I know that now.”

  “Briggs made me realize at the hospital how much of a shitty father I was. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you weren’t good enough, Austin. You’re my greatest accomplishment,” he confessed with tears in his eyes.

  I’d never seen my dad be anything but the solid man he always was. I wasn’t surprised in the least that Briggs spoke her mind. She always did. It was one of things I loved the most about her.

  “I love you no matter what, son. If I could go back, I would change a lot of things, but you’re right, I can’t. I can only move forward and I want nothing more than to build a relationship with the man standing in front of me.”

  “I would really love that, Dad.”

  He pulled me into a hug, and I actually felt my father’s sincerity and love. For the first time in I don’t know how long, I felt like everything was going to be okay. That my life was going to get better. That I was going to get better.

  Even though my future didn’t include Briggs.

  Briggs

  “Jesus Christ!” I placed my hand over my chest when I walked into my house. “Why can’t you just fucking knock on the door like a normal fucking person?!” I yelled at my uncle, shutting the door behind me. “You don’t own this house. I do. So fucking knock on the door,” I ordered, setting my groceries on the kitchen island.

  He just sat on the barstool without a care in the world, not paying me any mind at all. Holding his head up high in his I’m-Alejandro-Martinez-and-I-don’t-give-a-fuck kind of way.

  “To what do I owe the honor of your unexpected appearance, Uncle? You must know Esteban is out of town or you wouldn’t be here.”

  “Oh, I missed him? What a goddamn shame. By all means, give that motherfucker my regards.”

  I rolled my eyes. It had been a year since Esteban and I moved in together. He hated the Carolinas, and wanted to move back to New York. It was one of our biggest arguments. He was actually there right now, traveling on business.

  “Can’t an uncle just want to visit his favorite niece?”

  “Your only niece, and an uncle, yes. You, no,” I declared, peeking my head out of the fridge to look at him.

  He grinned, amused with my banter. I continued to put away the rest of my groceries.

  “I hear your book is the talk of the town. You’re all over the bookstores in New York City.”

  “Are you scared the FBI is going to knock on your door, Uncle? Don’t worry I changed your name.”

  “I’ve read it, Briggs.”

  My eyes widened as I breathed out, “You lie.”

  “Antonio, never lies,” he chuckled, using his name from my book. “I was there the day you were born, Daisy. I was one of the first people to hold you. Your mom named you Daisy because—”

  “It was her favorite flower,” I interrupted.

  He smiled, peering around the room as if he was recalling something from his past. He was a dangerous, mysterious man, but he loved my mom. There was no doubt about that.

  “Yes. It was her favorite flower,” he repeated with sad eyes and a solemn expression. “You look like her. That’s the first thing I thought when I saw you in the damn hospital bed when you were six. I couldn’t believe how much you fucking looked like her. You were a spitting image of her as a child, and are even more now as a

woman.”

  I took in every word he was saying. Scared that if I interrupted him, he would stop talking about my mother. Stop sharing memories that pained him for some reason. A reason beyond my understanding, and I knew he’d never tell me if I asked.

  “Ask,” he ordered, reading my mind.

  I looked him in the eyes and asked the one question that had always plagued me.

  “Why did you take me in?”

  “I promised your mother that if anything ever happened to them, I would take care of you.”

  I frowned. “You were there when I was born, but I never remember seeing you around after.”

  “I never forgot any of your birthday’s or holiday’s. You received my gifts, I made sure of it.”

  I opened my mouth to say something, but quickly shut it.

  “She took you away from this life, Daisy. The life you hate so fucking much. Only for me to bring you back in it.”

  He stood and I immediately thought our conversation was over. I was beyond disappointed. I had so many questions that had gone unanswered. He walked over to the screen door, his hands placed firmly in the pockets of his slacks. Peering out the window, like his life was flashing before his eyes.

  “I raised you the only way I knew how. Putting a roof over your head, making sure you were alive and fed.”

  “What about affection, Uncle? What about love? Did you not think I needed that? Wouldn’t any little girl need to be held? To be told that everything was going to be okay? That they were loved?”

  He turned away from the window, narrowing his cold, soulless eyes at me.

  “Mistakes are what run this world, Daisy. The past cannot be changed as much as we may want it to. I am no different. I have always been there for you, despite what you think. I still am.”

  “Why did you read my book?” I blurted, needing to know.

  “I wanted confirmation,” he simply stated, making his way back to the kitchen island.

  “On what?”

  “I let you both go, didn’t I?” He ignored my question.

  I don’t know what came over me. I slammed the cabinet door, and made my way over to stand in front of him. Looking deep into his eyes.

  I didn’t falter. “Do love you me, Uncle?”

  “I raised you, didn’t I? I was practically a fucking kid, raising a kid. But I protect you. I’m here for you. No matter what.”

  I shook my head no. “That doesn’t answer my question. Do you love me?”

  “Daisy, I’d kill for you. I’d take a bullet for you, and I can’t say that about anyone else.”

  My eyes widened, realizing that would be the best answer he would ever give me.

  “If you could go back, would you still raise me the same way?”

  “Yes,” he answered without any hesitation.

  I bowed my head, disappointed. He grabbed my chin, making me look at him again.

  “This is the man that I am, Daisy. I won’t make any excuses for that. What you see,” he paused, “is what you get. I made you strong and resilient. I gave you the tools to survive, and I showed you the reality of the world. I wouldn’t change that for a goddamn thing. Tough love is the only way I know.”

  I stood there in disbelief. He released my chin, and took a seat on the barstool.

  “As much as I’d love to keep going down memory lane. This visit isn’t about me. That’s not why I’m here. Have you talked to Austin?”

  I jerked back. “No. Have you? Wait… do you talk to him?”

  “What I do is not your concern, peladita. You’re not happy.”

  “I’m happy.”

  “Being content is not happiness,” he simply stated.

  “And you’re the expert on what happiness is?” I scoffed out. “I’ll take my chances.”

  “Don’t confuse things. I live the life I fucking want. I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks about that.”

  “I live the—”

  “You live the life you think you need to be living. You always have. Aren't you tired of being someone you're not?” He held up my brown hair, twirling it around his finger, taking in my appearance. “You’re scared to be alone, Briggs. Waiting for happiness to come to you. You want something then go after it, and if you can’t get it, you fucking fight for it. Why are you with Esteban? I remember very clearly asking you if you loved him. I’m fucking certain you said no. Tell me, are you with him because he stole your goddamn virtue?”

  “He didn’t steal it. I gave it to him.”

  “And here you are... still giving it to him. What about you? What can he give you?”

  “I… well, there’s…”

  He snidely grinned. “People make mistakes, peladita. No one is perfect, and sometimes it takes someone to get lost, to finally find their fucking way back. From what I hear, absence makes the heart grow fonder, Daisy,” he said, walking to the front door.

  “I’ll make sure to tell Esteban you said hello.”

  “And I’ll make sure not to accidentally shoot the motherfucker in the goddamn face. Then we both can pretend that we fucking love him.”

  Without another word, he left me there with thoughts of a love I once had.

  Austin.

  Chapter 41

  Austin

  “Half-Pint, I’m not going to tell you again. Stop setting me up on these fucking dates! I don’t want to date anyone. This may come as a shock to you, but I actually want to be single. I don’t need a girl. I’m happy being by myself.”

  She sighed. “She was a nice girl, Austin.”

  “I wouldn’t know. I spent the entire fucking time counting down the minutes before I could pay the bill and leave.”

  “You’re so frustrating!”

  “Mind your own damn business.”

  “I don’t know how to do that,” she gritted out, making me laugh. “It’s been almost three years, Austin. Three years.”

  “I can read a calendar, Alex. I’m fully fucking aware of how many years have gone by.”

  She rolled her eyes, placing her hands on her hips.

  “Baby, give Austin a break,” Lucas said, coming to my defense. Slapping her ass for good measure.

  “Half-Pint, he’s still getting fuckin’ pussy, and he doesn’t have to deal with the emotional bullshit. Man’s onto somethin’,” Dylan added, making Aubrey reach over and slap him on the back of the head. “Suga’, you have a wonder pussy, and I fuckin’ love you.”

  “You’re so romantic,” Aubrey sarcastically stated, shaking her head.

  “It’s a known fact that women are crazy. I’m only speaking the truth here. Austin has always been a master of getting laid. I taught him everything he knows. Alex, leave the man be.”

  Alex threw her hands in the air, giving up.

  “Austin, make sure you make up for the lack of sex Dylan won’t be getting until further notice,” Aubrey chastised, only looking at him.

  “Until further notice? You mean until tonight when I put my tongue up your pus—”

  Aubrey immediately placed her hand over his mouth. I laughed so hard that my head fell back. He was such a fucking asshole, but it felt good to laugh with all of them again.

  “Oh my God, Dylan.” She let go of his mouth. “I’m sorry my husband has no filter.”

  “It’s part of my fuckin’ charm, and you fuckin’ love it,” Dylan reminded, pulling her to him by the nook of her neck, kissing her lips.

  That was my cue to get up and man the food on the barbeque.

  We were all hanging out at Lucas and Alex’s house. Shooting the shit like old times, grilling out with all the boys and their wives. I had become the seventh wheel. Which was what gave Half-Pint so much initiative to try to find me a girl. It didn’t matter how many times I told her I didn’t want one. She was a persistent little shit.

  I already had my girl.

  My soul mate.

  I hadn’t been with anyone since. I’d fucked enough girls to last me a lifetime. None of them would have been Briggs,

so it didn’t matter anymore.

  It had been almost three years since I last saw Briggs. Almost three years since I OD’d. Almost three years since my life started over, and I was in recovery. I was given the greatest gift.

  Life.

  My second chance.

  I lived at the sober living facility for over a year, attending a NA meeting at least two to three times a day while I stayed there. My sponsor and therapist became my new fucking best friends. I was fortunate enough that I didn’t have to work, and could concentrate solely on my recovery. I was working through my twelve steps of sobriety, currently on step number nine.

  Making amends with everyone that I had hurt during my addiction. Of course, Briggs was the first person on the list. My therapist scheduled sessions with everyone that I had hurt, my parents, the boys, and Alex. I told them everything. They knew every lie, every memory, and every single truth. Including the shame and remorse I felt about all the things I’d done. Especially being a drug dealer. It was like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. For the first time in forever, my demons were dormant. But that didn’t mean they weren’t still there. They would always be apart of me.

  I was still an addict.

  I was just an addict in recovery.

  I still went to my therapist regularly and met with my sponsor a few times a week, and attended daily meetings. Finally admitting defeat. I couldn’t do this by myself, and as hard as it was for me to ask for help, it was getting a little easier every time I did.

  Which was often.

  The boys and my parents, especially my father, took responsibility for their part in my addiction. My dad actually broke down, and had a few times since. Our relationship wasn’t fixed by any means, but it was getting better. Same with all the boys, they were my fucking brothers. They always would be.

  We were family no matter what life threw at us.

  When I was ready to be discharged from the sober living facility, I started looking around for a house to move in to. I ended up buying the home that belonged to the dock that held so many memories from my past.

  The good and the bad.