Crave Me (The Good Ol' Boys #4) (43 page)

“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 becaus
e—
”

“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 th
e—
”

“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.

“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.

My therapist didn’t agree with my choice I made, saying that it could present itself as a trigger for me to relapse. When I did my final walk-through before signing the papers, I quickly realized that I didn’t belong anywhere else, but there.

I was finally happy to be home.

I couldn’t live anywhere else.

It had been almost a year-and-a-half since I’d moved in there. Lucas’s company remodeled the six-bedroom, four-bathroom house. I added a pool to the huge backyard. My realtor said I was buying it for the family I wanted, and maybe in a way I was. I had people over often. It was rare for me to be alone anymore. I preferred it that way. I spent way too many years being alone.

I opened my tattoo shop back up, and had more clients than I knew what to do with. The place was booming, and I was scheduled out a few months in advance.

I even started sketching again.

I had yet to read Briggs’ book. Our love story. As much I wanted to, I couldn’t bring myself to turn the pages. It sat on my nightstand next to my NA book. I would stare at it for hours, but at the end of the day, I always choose to read the NA book instead. Every time. I had that book memorized, and I still managed to learn something new every time I re-read it.

“I’m going to head out, guys,” I announced, standing up after finishing my plate.

“Come by the restaurant tomorrow,” Lily said. “Jacob is working late and you can have dinner with me and the kids. Riley wants to show her Uncle Austin how she can write her name now.”

I nodded. “Can’t wait,” I said, giving her a wink.

We said our usual goodbyes and I left.

“Austin!” Alex called out, making me look up from my car door.

I closed the door, rounding the corner of the hood, as she came running towards me.

“Did I forget something?” I asked, patting my jeans.

“No, I wanted to give you something.” She handed me a white envelope.

“What’s this?” I looked at her.

“It’s from Lucas’s mom, Savannah.”

I peered up. “What? How?” Jerking back, stunned.

“She gave it to me a few days before she passed away. She said that I couldn’t give it to you until you were ready. Until you were in a good place again. I didn’t understand what she meant by that at the time. I held onto it all these years, hoping that one day it would make sense. To be completely honest, over the last few years I’d forgotten about it. When you were in rehab, I found it in my old art notebook my mom kept. I was looking for my book to come draw with you. I thought you could use some good memories right about then. I was going to give it to you the day you received your six-month chip, but Briggs gave me her book. I realized it wasn’t the right time yet.”

“Why now?”

“You’re happy, Austin. I don’t remember the last time I saw you this happy. You’re in a good place, and I firmly believe in my heart that you’re going to stay there. I’m not saying it’s ever going to get easy for you, but I can see it in your eyes. You’re Austin again. My good ol’ boy is back.”

I brought her in for a big hug. Even though she was a pain in my ass, she always knew the right things to say. I took a deep breath, appreciating everything she had just said.  

“I talk to Briggs sometimes. She’s doing great, Austin. She’s touring around the world with her books. Attending signings everywhere. She’s really taken off. She’s happy.”

“Thanks for telling me that, Half-Pint. It’s always good to hear. As long as she’s happy, that’s all that matters to me. All I ever wanted was for her to be happy. I just wish it could have been with me.”

“Life is very unpredictable, as you well know. I ended up with Lucas. Aubrey’s with Dylan. Even Lily ended up with Jacob, and I didn’t think that would ever happen. So crazier things have happened in our lives.”

I nodded.

“I love you, Austin, and I’m so proud of you.”

I kissed her head, giving her a loving smile, and she left. I drove home, listening to “Mad World,” thinking about everything I’d been through in life. I pulled into my driveway, got out, and headed straight for the dock. I slipped my shoes off and sat with my feet in the water like I had countless times before. I lit a cigarette, letting the nicotine work it’s way into my lungs, and opened the letter that I couldn’t stop thinking about the entire drive home. Bringing the cigarette to the corner of my lips, I started reading.

Austin,

My rebel boy.

From the second you could crawl, you never looked back. You were the most independent boy I had ever seen before. You were so quiet; we never knew if you were up to something. Always needing to learn everything on your own. There was no holding you back. Your mom had to put a lock on your window, because you would open it at night and climb up the banister to sit on the roof. You were four. I remember the first time your mom caught you. She almost had a heart attack. The next day she had installed a state-of-the-art lock to keep you from hurting yourself. You saw her lock it one time, and you figured out how to unlock it to continue sneaking out. There was no telling you that you couldn’t do something when you put your mind to it.

That’s just the boy you were. So curious about the world, and every last thing it had to offer. But you were the sweetest boy ever, the most loving of all the good ol’ boys. You didn’t care. You did your own thing, often ending up alone. I worried about you a lot. Your parents worked all the time, and it was hard for them to keep up with you because you were so damn quiet. We all assumed everything was okay, since we never saw otherwise.

I caught you drawing on the dock a few times while I was looking for Lucas. You seemed so lost and alone. Even at that young of an age. The car accident changed you, Austin. It sucked the life right out of you. The guilt and shame came tumbling down on you. You weren’t the same boy. There were days I barely recognized you. It scared all of us.

When you took off, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t expecting it. You needed to leave. You needed to find yourself. Most importantly you needed to forgive yourself. Love yourself in a way you probably never have before. I know you have gone through more stuff than I could ever imagine, and one of my saddest regrets is that I’m not going to be there to help you find your way.

But I know it wouldn’t matter anyway because you need to find it on our own. It’s who you are. I knew one day it would happen. The demons that haunted you would be at bay, and you’d fight for your life again. If you’re reading this than I know that day has come.

You’re happy.

And I’m smiling down on you. Proud that you made it back home.

I don’t have to tell you to take care of each other, your brothers and your Half-Pint. There’s nothing that could come in between a bond like that, ever. No matter what life throws at you, your family will always be there to catch you when you fall.

I love you, Austin. I’m here if you ever need to talk. I always will be.

Your second Mom,

Savannah

I folded the letter, and placed it back into the envelope. Inhaling a puff of my cigarette, remembering how many times I’d sat on this dock. Feeling as lost as she said I appeared.

I smiled.

Taking one last puff of my cigarette, stubbing it out on the side of the dock. I stood, walking back inside.

Knowing that I wasn’t lost anymore.