Crave Me (The Good Ol' Boys #4) (24 page)

“Fuck!” Briggs yelled, jumping out of bed in a panic.

My head was pounding and my back was fucking throbbing. I felt like a semi-truck ran me over, threw it in reverse, and ran me the fuck over again.

The goddamn pain was crippling.

We had been up partying with business associates in Colombia for last two days straight with no sleep. The drugs finally wore off enough a few hours ago to where we could shut our eyes and catch some Z’s.

Briggs had another important meeting with some new associates that morning and she wanted to stay up, but I convinced her that we needed to get some sleep for at least a few hours.

“Austin! Get up! We’re so fucking late!” she screamed, running around the room gathering up her clothes.

Our hotel room was a disaster. Things got a little hazy toward the end for me, and I guess we’d brought the party back to our room.

“Baby, relax,” I coaxed, sitting up on the edge of the bed, trying to open my eyes.

I leaned forward, placing my elbows up on my thighs, cradling my head that felt like it weighed a thousand pounds in my hands.

“Relax? Are you for real right now? Get your ass up, now! We’re over an hour late and we still have to drive there and that’s another thirty minutes!”

“Babe, it’s fine. Just explain—”

“Explain what, Austin? That we’ve been getting fucked up on X and blow for the last forty-eight hours? Jesus Christ! These are drug lords not fucking PTA members. Get up!” She threw some clothes at me.

“I’m up, I’m up! Jesus, stop fucking screaming at me, Briggs. I’ll be ready in ten minutes. Let me jump in the shower.”

She sighed in frustration, hurrying out of the room to go find God knows what, but at least that meant she had stopped yelling at me. I walked into the bathroom, turning on the shower to let the water run for a minute so it could get warm. The pipes in Colombia fucking sucked. It didn’t matter how much you paid for your five-star suite. In the last year, we had been back there three times since that night in New York. I learned fast that this country was definitely where most of the deals went down.

I inspected my face in the mirror. I looked like dog shit, my eyes were bloodshot red, and my pupils were still so fucking dilated. The pain in my back got worse as time went on, especially since I never got therapy for it. The Percocets stopped working over a year ago, I became immune to them or some shit. I started taking Oxys instead. I didn’t have to take as many and it numbed the pain, but that was like a double-edged sword. Being numb allowed me to do things I probably shouldn’t have, only fucking up my back more.

I downed two of them on my way to the shower, doing a quick rinse just to wake up. I threw on some jeans and a black t-shirt.  

“Fuck,” I breathed out to myself, sinking into the chair, trying to put some shoes on.

I was still so damn tired and out of it. I could hardly fucking see straight. My mind was shot to shit, and I could barely form a coherent thought. All I wanted to do was crash and sleep away the shitty feeling. There wasn’t a chance in Hell I’d let Briggs go by herself. If something happened to her, I’d kill the motherfucker responsible and then myself.

She was my everything. We hadn’t said I love you to each other, but we didn’t need to.

We knew.

Actions would always speak louder than words.

I shook my head, looking at the blow that was still sitting on the dining table.

“Briggs?”

Silence.

We never did drugs before a meeting. Not even weed. In the last two years that I had been with her it was one line we never crossed. We always went in with a clear head, just in case shit went down. But the way I was feeling at that moment, trust me…

She wanted me to snort some cocaine.

At least then I would be lucid.

I did a line up each nostril before deciding to do two more. The effects not as potent as they were a day ago, but it immediately took the edge off and I grabbed a Redbull from the fridge.

You ready?” Briggs asked, opening the door peeking her head in.

Even ate up as shit with two days of partying and barely three hours of sleep, she still took my goddamn breath away.

“Yeah.” I raised my drink. “Want one?”

“I have one already in the car.”

I grabbed my gun, placing it in the holster on my back. “I’ll drive,” I said, grabbing the keys out of her hands.  

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I feel better now.” I kissed her, and she smiled.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you. I just can’t believe we slept through the alarms.”

“Shit happens. Come on.”

I sped the entire way there, knocking off fifteen minutes of our drive time. By the look on Briggs’ face, she was grateful for the small miracle I just pulled off. I opened the door stepping out of the car, but she caught my arm stopping me.

“What?” I asked, taken aback.

“The man we’re about to see, Austin, he’s different, okay? He’s not like what you’re used to seeing.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Just that, I’ve met him a few times. Which is why he won’t have his bodyguards beside him. So… keep that in mind, okay?”

“Baby, I don’t know what you’re trying to imply, but I’m not going to let any motherfucker talk—”

“I know, Austin. That’s why I’m telling you all this. He’s not just anyone. He’s a friend, okay? Behave yourself and keep your emotions in check.”

“I thought you didn’t have any friends besides me.”

“Not mine,” she simply stated.

I nodded, understanding. She meant it was Martinez’s friend. She kissed me, giving me a loving look before exiting the car.

I lit a cigarette, suddenly fucking pissed that I didn’t know what I was walking into.

Over the last two years, we had been all over South America. We never stayed in one-place longer than two weeks tops. Briggs said it was safer that way. She literally sat down and met with the business associates, while I stood in the back watching. Always with one hand behind my back on my gun, prepared and waiting for one of these fuckers to make a wrong move.

Sometimes it was one guy, sometimes up to four.

I had gotten used to standing in the background, watching their mannerisms, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Picking up sentences here and there, since they usually spoke Spanish. I hadn’t met or talked to Martinez yet. Briggs said that was a good thing, it meant we were doing a good job. She barely even talked to him herself, so I guess it wasn’t just me. Briggs really did know how to take care of herself and handle business. None of the men she encountered ever disrespected her either.

At first it was surprising, especially since she was a woman. It was almost like they were scared of her because they had to be. I just summed it up to them fearing Martinez and they knew she worked for him.

Don’t fuck with the hand that feeds you and all that bullshit.

“You’re late,” a man dressed in a pinstripe suit announced when we walked into the warehouse.

He was a fat fuck with balding gray hair and wrinkled skin. If I had to guess, I’d say he was in his late fifties or early sixties.

There was a long narrow table in the middle of the room. Chairs surrounded each edge even though it was only him in the vacant, empty building. Though I was more caught off guard that he was speaking English. That rarely happened in these meetings.

“I know… I’m sorry. We got—”

“Y este pendejo quien es?” He nodded toward me. I think he was asking Briggs who I was as soon as she sat down.

She didn’t turn around to follow his gaze. She knew he was referring to me.

Already I didn’t fucking like him.

“He’s my bodyguard.”

“Bodyguard?” he scoffed out the word, leaning back against his chair. His hands firmly placed on the table in front of him.

“Martinez is having a woman shuffling his deals now? I guess it does make sense that you would have a strong man behind you,” he sneered with a strong Spanish accent.

I resisted the urge to tell him to go fuck himself. Instead, I stood there with one hand on my gun and the other clenched in a fist at my side.

Briggs smiled, leaning back in her own chair. “Says the man who has four.”

He cocked an eyebrow, and I recognized the predatory look on his face. He wanted to fuck her, and I wanted to make him eat own his goddamn cock.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty, peladita.”

“I’m not here for you to whisper sweeting nothings in my ear.”

“Just like Martinez. All work and no play. Must run in the family.”

Family?

She sidestepped his comment not paying it any mind.

“My bodyguards aren’t here. Mira?” he said in Spanish, looking all around the warehouse, gesturing with his hands. “Your superman can leave now.”

“Hector—”

“There’s not a chance in Hell I’m fucking leaving her alone with you,” I interrupted, unable to control myself.

I hated the way he was looking at her, and I hated it even more that she was letting it happen.   

“Pretty boy, can talk too? If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll shut his goddamn mouth and let us handle some business. That’s why we are here, right?”

I stepped toward him. Briggs immediately put her hand out in the air stopping me, even though she was several feet away. Her eyes never shifted from his face.

“I’m here to handle business. He’s not leaving. You want to make a deal? You make it with him in the room, or I walk too.”

He cocked an eyebrow, challenging me.

“Martinez wouldn’t be happy about that. Trust me. I would know more than anyone what makes him happy,” Briggs warned.

My eyes immediately went from him to her, confused with what she just shared. She sounded like she had been his fucking whore.

I took a deep breath, willing my emotions in check, but she wasn’t making it easy on me by any means.

His glare met hers and he specified, “Forty thousand dollars a kilo.”

She laughed even though there wasn’t anything fucking funny about the situation.

“Jesus Christ, Hector, take a girl to dinner before you try to fuck her up the ass.”

“If that’s all it takes, I’ll make reservations for you and I tonight.”

“Twenty-eight thousand and not a dollar over,” she ignored his comment, and all I saw was fucking red.

He stood, his hands still firmly placed on the table in front of him, now hovering above it.

“The only way I’ll settle for twenty-eight thousand,” he murmured loud enough for me to hear, “is if it includes your pussy and your mouth wrapped around my cock. I’ll even let that little cocksucker over there watch.”   

“AUSTIN, NO!”

Before Briggs even got the last word out, I was charging and roughly body checking the motherfucker over the chair and onto the concrete floor. We both hit it hard, rolling away from the table.

My body on top of his.

“YOU PIECE OF FUCKING SHIT!” I roared, gripping his head and slamming it onto the ground.

His body immediately went lax. I didn’t falter, I straddled his waist, punching him in the face repeatedly. One fist after the other connected with his mangled face.

“AUSTIN, NO! STOP!” Briggs screamed, bloody murder.

I ignored her and continued my assault on the fat fuck’s face and body. Beating him within inch of his life. Showing him no fucking mercy.

I felt Briggs’ hands, ripping at my shirt trying to pry me off of him. I could hear her screaming, but the rage was too strong. The fat fuck wanted her to show up alone because he wanted to fucking rape her. He wanted to hurt what was mine. That’s why he wanted me to leave.

“AUSTIN, STOP! PLEASE!”

I don’t know if it was the drugs that were coursing through my system or the fact that she didn’t give a fuck that he was disrespecting her in front of me. Or it may have been that Martinez put her in this goddamn situation in the first place. Where she could have ended up raped or so help me God something fucking worse.

But I stopped and stood up.

“Who's the cocksucker now, motherfucker?”

Pulling out my gun, I aimed it directly in front of his fucking face.

It was like Deja vu.

For a second I thought I was fifteen years old and back in my room. Witnessing that hell all over again. Except this time it wasn’t my ruthless, corrupt, murdering uncle.

This was Austin.

My Austin.

He looked fucking crazed. I had never seen him like that before, and it was scary as hell.

“Austin…” I coaxed, gently settling my hand over his that was still placed on the gun. “Give me the gun. You’re not a murderer. Now, give me the gun.”

“What do you think he was going to fucking do if you had shown up by yourself? Why do you think he wanted me to leave? Huh?” he argued with a dark tone in his voice I’d never heard before.

“It doesn’t matter. You were here. Now, put the gun away or give it to me.”

He peered back and forth between us.

“Austin, we have like five minutes to get the fuck out of here before this place is swarming with cops or worse, his men. I guarantee you there are cameras in this fucking warehouse. We need to go,” I ordered. “Now get your shit together and put away your damn gun. You already did plenty of damage.”

He took a deep breath and placed the gun back in his holster. I breathed a sigh of relief.  

“Come on.” I grabbed his hand, pulling him with me. Austin spit in his face before he came with me.

We ran out to the car. He put it in drive before I even had a chance to close my door.

“Jesus Christ, Austin!” I screamed, smacking my hands on the dashboard. “You have no fucking idea what you’ve just done. You don’t know who you just fucked with.”

And I wasn’t talking about Hector.

He just drove ignoring my statement, white knuckling the steering wheel. His hands were still bloody from the brutal assault, and I resisted the urge to ask him if he was okay.

We got stuck in over an hour-and-a-half of traffic, a horrible car accident blocking up all the roads. Which only made me dwell more on the fact of what I knew would come of this. By the time we made it back to the hotel room I had the worst feeling in the pit of my stomach. I knew the worst was still yet to come, and his name was Alejandro Martinez. And that scared me more than anything. I wasn’t ready for any of it.

How the fuck could Austin do this?

“We got to go,” I rambled, running inside, grabbing as many clothes as I saw lying around our disaster of a room. “You have no idea what shit storm you just created.”

He gripped my arm, stopping me.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Briggs? Do you honestly think I would ever let someone talk to you like that? In front of me! What the fuck were you doing provoking him like that? What kind of man do you think I am? I would never fucking let anything happen to you! What the fuck do you think was going to happen had I not been there?”

I shook my head, ignoring his question about provoking Hector. That’s just the way it was with my uncle’s friends. It was meaningless bullshit banter. 

“No, Austin. My unc—” I stopped myself from revealing the truth.

He cocked his head to the side with a glare in his eyes that said he already knew something was up.

“Your what, Briggs? Finish that fucking sentence,” he gritted out.

“Her uncle.”

I immediately shut my eyes, hearing my uncle’s voice as he walked into the living room from the balcony in the other room. Stopping when he was standing right next to us.

“I suggest you let go of my niece’s arm before I remove it for you.”

“Uncle,” I murmured, opening my eyes to look deep into his.

His cold, dark eyes didn’t waver from Austin’s. And Austin didn’t cower down either, but he let go of my arm.

“Your uncle?” Austin roared in a tone that I knew my uncle wouldn’t appreciate. “He’s your fucking uncle? Oh my God… I’m such a fucking idiot.”

He backed away from me, immediately taking his warmth, his comfort, his love with him.

The air was so thick between us I could hardly breathe. My heart was pounding and my mind was spinning.

“No shit,” Uncle spewed. “What the fuck was that back there?”

Austin was over to him in three strides, getting right in front of my uncle’s face. I stood back and watched in terror. No one stood up to him and if they did, they were now six feet under.

No one crossed him.

Period.

My uncle didn’t even blink. Remaining the solid man he always was behind the expensive suit.

Austin sized him up and down with an intense look like he had lost his goddamn mind.

I swallowed, hard.

Waiting.

“I was doing my job. Protecting
your
niece, seeing as you don’t give a fuck about her safety.”

There was no reaction from my uncle.

Not one.

It was then that I saw it… there was a war raging in his eyes.  

I just didn’t know if it was in our favor.

Uncle suddenly cocked his head to the side, taking Austin in for the first time.

“You want to step up to me, Austin Taylor?” Uncle coaxed in a calm tone, like right before a snake kills. “I protect what’s mine. You want to question that? Then I’ll be sure to send you Hector’s cock on a silver fucking platter.”

My eyes widened not expecting his response.

He killed Hector?

“It was my warehouse. Next time you decide to pull this shit. Finish the fucking job. I don’t like wiping up shit, especially if it didn’t come out of my own fucking ass,” Uncle warned.

I looked back and forth between them. My eyes couldn’t focus on either one of them for very long.  

“No one fucks with me, Austin. And if you don’t step the fuck back, you will find out why.”

“Austin…” I grabbed his arm, hoping it would help.

It took him a second to gain control. He slowly backed away not taking his stare off my uncle.

“Briggs, next time you want to be a cock tease, make sure it’s not with someone who actually wants to fuck you. I’ve taught you better than that,” he warned, stepping toward me until he was right in front of my face. Narrowing his eyes at me.

“Judging from this filthy fucking room and the amount of drugs spread out on the table,” he paused, letting his words linger. “I’m going to assume that neither one of you were in the right state of mind today. Which tells me I need to re-evaluate your place in my fucking business. Pack your shit. You’re coming home with me.”

He looked over at Austin and sneered, “You’re not fucking invited.”

Austin opened his mouth to say something, but I interrupted him, “I’m not going anywhere without him. He goes where I go and vice versa, Uncle.”

I could see it in his eyes, he wanted to tell me no. He wanted to order me around like I was still the little girl that lived under his penthouse roof.

“We’re going back to my apartment. I’m not going back to
your
home,” I simply stated.

I fucking hated that penthouse.

It wasn’t my home.

It never was.

He leaned in close to my face. “We’re done playing it your way, peladita,” he breathed out. Turning around he left. 

Leaving me to wonder what the hell he just meant by that.