Crave Me (The Good Ol' Boys #4) (9 page)

My mama’s jaw dropped, surprised by his outburst. I would be lying if I said it didn’t shock me too. He just confirmed what I always knew. I was a fuck up in their eyes. Not worthy enough to be their son. All I ever wanted was for them to accept me for who I was and welcome me with open arms.

And this was exactly why I spent my life hiding behind my secrets. I knew… I knew they wouldn’t accept me. Except, I never thought it would hurt this goddamn much for them to confirm what I already knew in my heart.

“Wow…” I stepped back out of his grasp. Hands surrendered, head shaking.

I could see it in his eyes. He wanted to apologize, take back his hateful words. But that wasn’t my father. He remained the solid man he always was. Breathing heavy with flared nostrils and a look of pity on his face.

I backed away from the situation before I really said something I regretted.

“Run along, son. Which one of your girls or parties am I paying for tonight? Huh?” he yelled as I stormed out, slamming the door behind me.

I walked around aimlessly for a while until I remembered the boys were in town for the weekend, and I knew just where to find them.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?" Dylan asked, as I walked up to him and the rest of the boys on the beach. "You look like someone just took a shit in your cereal."

I handed him the letter, too pissed off to explain. If anyone could understand, it would be the boys. Dylan lowered his eyebrows, taking it out of my hand. Jacob and Lucas hovered around him to read it too. I stood there drawing circles in the sand with my foot, glancing up at their expressions.

Wondering which way this would go.

“Art school?” Jacob questioned, looking back up at me. “When the fuck did you learn how to draw?”

“Doesn’t fucking matter. My parents won’t pay for it. Looks like I’m going to Ohio State with you guys.”

“Austin, come on, man… do you honestly want to go to art school? Or is this you just trying to rebel over something else?” Lucas chimed in.

“Art school sounds like a whole bunch of pussies, drawing out their feelings and shit. That’s not you. Besides, what the fuck are you going to do with an art degree?” Dylan added.

“What the hell do you know about art school? Have you been there?” I snapped.

They laughed.

They fucking laughed.

“This is a joke right? You’re fucking with us?” Jacob chuckled. “We all know you want to come to Ohio State, Austin. We’re there. You’ve been following us around since you could walk.”

I jerked back like he had hit me. “Wow…”

They faltered, their expressions quickly changing to something I couldn’t quite place.

“Is that right? I’ve been following you around. Good to know.”

“He’s just fuckin’ around. Why you being such a pussy? You bleedin’ out now?” Dylan laughed some more. “Don’t go turning into a bitch on us, now that we’re not around to man you up.”

I couldn’t believe this. I go to my boys. My brothers. My best friends for some goddamn support and they proceed to add to my parents’ theory, pointing out everything I have ever felt.

Every last one of them.

Tearing into my insecurities. I wasn’t expecting that.

Not. Ever. That.

“Fuck you! Fuck all of you!” I roared, turning around to leave. "All of you can go fuck yourselves. Thanks for the support, bros."

“Austin! Stop being such a bitch! We were fuckin’ with you!” Dylan called out behind me.

I didn’t bother to look back.

It was pointless.

The damage was done.

Before I knew it, I was sitting on the dock, feet dangling in the warm water. Looking off in the distance, reflecting on the day's turn of events. Wishing that I had my notebook to take out my frustration on a blank sheet of paper. Getting lost in the world of my illusions, creations, and art. But all I could do was sit there and dwell on what had just happened.

With my parents.

With my friends.

I was alone.

I hated myself for letting down my guard, allowing them to see my truths I hid so well for so many years. That became second nature.

I wanted to hit something.

I wanted to scream.

I wanted to run away.

I wanted to make this fucking feeling go away. I'd give anything to bring back my not giving a fuck attitude that I had gotten so used to. Seeking comfort in myself.

All I ever had was that.

I owned it.

Now that was torn away from me.

I stood, pacing the dock, running my fingers roughly through my hair. My anger and nerves set on fire. My body scorching hot, my adrenaline pumping so hard that all I could see was red, and all I could feel was blue. I wanted to claw out my skin for being so fucking stupid.

I paced around the dock, desperately trying to work off this emotional bullshit. When I heard footsteps coming toward me, I didn’t have to look up to know who it was.

Alex.

Half-Pint.

Her…

She was always there for me. Always knew when I needed her. The one person that I could count on, the one person that loved me wholeheartedly.

No matter what.

I peered up and there she was. Wearing a white dress, looking like an angel, so genuine and pure. The Heaven to my Hell, or so I thought. Her hair cascaded down her face, her back, her breasts.

I wanted to get lost in her…

“Hey, you okay?” she asked, taking in the desperation playing out in front of her.

My yearning for someone I shouldn’t be thinking about. Someone that wasn’t mine and never would be.

“How the fuck do you always know when I need you, Alex?”

She smiled and her entire face lit up.  “It’s because I love you.”

I threw caution to the wind and cupped the sides of her face. Her eyes widened before I pulled her toward me, not giving it a second thought.

I kissed her.

For a second, my lips touched hers. For a moment, I felt the pain go away. Reality disappeared that instant. It didn’t last long and a part of me knew it wasn’t going to.

Her hands pressed against my chest, shoving me away, making me stumble backwards on the dock. Feeling the loss of her warmth immediately.

“Austin!” she shrieked out, backing away from me with a look of disappointment on her face. “What are you doing?”

“Fuck!” I called out. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Alex. I shouldn’t have done that.”

She shook her head side-to-side, lost in her own thoughts. Not knowing how to reply. Not knowing what to do or how to move forward.

“Austin,” she barely whispered.

“I know, Alex… you don’t have to say it,” I managed to respond.

We stood there for I don’t know how long, staring aimlessly at each other. And then… she just turned around and left. Walked away from me without another word.

I bowed my head.

Feeling lost. I knew she wouldn’t tell anyone. She would take this to her grave, as would I. She wouldn’t break the bond between the boys and I.

But that didn’t mean.

I didn’t just break the bond between her and me.

“Daisy.”

I heard someone whisper in my sleep. I rolled over toward the voice.

“Hmm…” I groggily opened my eyes, wiping sleep from my face. “Esteban?” I muttered, blinking away the darkness and looking around confused.

“Everything okay?” I immediately asked, taken aback. He’d never been in my room before.

“You need to get up and come with me,” was all he said before he started making his way out of my room.

I scratched my head, not understanding what was going on. I pushed off my covers, swung my legs over the edge of the bed, and stood stretching. Making my way into the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face. I tied my hair back in a ponytail as I walked out of the bathroom to find Esteban leaning against my door. He didn’t say a word. He just stared out in front of him like he was lost in his own thoughts. His composure read of a man on his way to his execution. A man I’d never met before.

And that scared me more than anything.

“Is everything—”

“Come on,” he interrupted, pushing off the door and walking away.

I followed behind him, trying to keep up with his pace. The sound coming off his black dress shoes echoed through the dark, narrow hallways, mimicking the pounding of my heart and the ringing in my ears. The silence was deafening all around us. I never realized how quiet the penthouse was at night. Our shadows simply heightened the darkness lurking in the corners. It didn’t even seem like it was that late.

One stride for Esteban was three steps for me. I know because I counted. It was the only way to keep my breathing somewhat steady.

One stride.

Three steps…

One stride.

Three steps…

One stride.

Three steps…

I followed him through the swinging door that led to the kitchen. The strong, pungent smell of bleach assaulted my senses. My hand immediately rose to cover my nose and mouth. Esteban didn’t bat an eye, too focused on his task that led us to the service elevator. He pressed the button and within seconds it dinged. The doors slid open as if it had been waiting there for us the entire time.

He stepped in while I stayed frozen in place. My heart pounding so profusely that I found it hard to breathe. My lips parted and my chest heaved with each passing moment that escalated between us. Panic began to set in and my mind started running wild. I anxiously tried to gather my thoughts, but they were as stuck as my feet were glued to the floor beneath me.

“Get in,” he ordered.

The unfamiliar harsh and demanding tone only added to my fear. For a quick second I wondered if he could smell it.

I didn’t budge.

I couldn’t.

“Why?” I blurted, finally finding my own voice.

“Get. In,” he repeated and my body began to shake.

I stared into his dark, soulless eyes. I took in his daunting, eerie composure, the way his hands hadn’t left his sides, not hiding the fact that he was strapped. Which he never was inside the penthouse.

I took in every last detail.

From the new cut he had just above his eyebrow, to the slight wrinkle of his black suit jacket. How the first two buttons of his black dress shirt were missing, and how his stare hadn’t wavered from mine.

Not. Once.

Reminding me of my uncle.

“Are you going to hurt me?” I found myself asking, needing confirmation, but knowing it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t tell me the truth.

Esteban would…

But he wasn’t Esteban.

“Get. The. Fuck. In,” he gritted out.

I swallowed hard before placing one foot in front of the other, standing on the opposite side of the elevator. The furthest spot away from him. He didn’t falter, punching one-zero-one-seven into the keypad, like he wanted me to see it and then button B.

My mom’s birthday?

His eyes stayed focused in front of him, and my eyes stayed locked on the side of his face. I jumped when the elevator dinged again, immediately shutting my eyes as hard as I could. Desperately wanting to pretend that this was just a bad dream. A nightmare that I would soon wake up from, finding no one was there to comfort me, but myself. I used to loathe that feeling, and now for the first time I craved it.

I heard the doors open and I involuntarily took three, reassuring breaths.

One…

In and out.

Two…

In and out.

Three…

In and out. 

I was struck with a coppery scent and I knew that as soon as I opened my eyes, my life would never be the same again. The smell of fear and bodily fluids were all around me, there was no mistaking it.

For some reason I thought about the last time I was happy. Slowly, cautiously opening my eyes, holding onto that feeling for as long as I could.

“Por fin,” Uncle Alejandro broke the silence, “
Finally
.” 

I swear on everything that was holy, my heart stopped beating. All the feelings, all the emotions were gone in a flash as if they had never been there to begin with.

I was there, but I wasn’t.

“Venga,” Uncle ordered, “
Come
.”

My eyes widened as I came face-to-face with something straight out of a horror film. My blank stare went to the man. A man I’d never seen before. His head was draped over, his arms tied behind his back, and his legs strapped to the steel chair he was sitting on. A plastic visqueen-lined area beneath him. Silver duct tape sealed his mouth and eyes. Blood dripped down his bruised and bloody face. I looked around at my uncle’s men. They wore their sadistic expressions and bloody knuckles proudly, no hint of remorse, no sign of guilt. They were showcasing their handy work.

The man was beaten within an inch of his life.

I looked from the man who was alive but appeared dead to Esteban who was standing at the far corner of the basement. Once again the man I knew. Except this time, he looked as broken as I felt.

The shame and remorse eating him alive.

Me.

“I bring you a gift, and this is how you react?” Uncle voiced, bringing my gaze back to him.

He was leaned up against the wall behind the man in the chair. His arms folded over his chest, one leg draped over the other. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled but there wasn’t a hair out of place.

“A gift?” I whispered, loud enough for him to hear.

“Briggs, I won’t tell you again. Come here.”

I stepped off the elevator and the doors closed behind me.

I shuddered, suddenly cold.

My uncle smiled. “Are you scared?”

I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say anything. I had to dig my nails into the palms of my hands to keep from passing out.

“You’re my niece, the daughter of my only sister, who I loved very fucking much. I would never physically hurt you. Don’t you ever fucking offend me again by letting that thought cross your mind.”

I blinked, taking in his words. The concrete floors were callous beneath my bare feet, the sounds of a furnace echoed through the huge, damp, concrete basement.

“Do you understand me?” he added.

I peered down at the man in the chair, ignoring his question. My uncle followed the direction of my stare.

“It was a hit and run.”

Our eyes locked.

“And this,” he nodded at the man in the chair, “is the man who ran,” he stated, answering the question in my mind.

My eyes scanned his body, confused and overwhelmed by the turn of events. I couldn't look away from the man's gruesome appearance. His chest was in worse shape than his face. Blood was covering his whole torso. I looked closer and sucked in a breath.

Amari.

My mom's name was carved on his skin, peeking out through his ripped, button down shirt on his chest.

My uncle jerked his neck toward Esteban, who understood his silent command. He made his way to the man in the chair. For a second, Esteban’s eyes pleaded with me to forgive him for what was about to happen. He roughly ripped off the tape from his eyes and then his mouth. Throwing a bucket of water on his face and the man stirred into consciousness. Gasping for air that wasn’t available for the taking.

Esteban quickly retreated back to the corner of the basement. I could have sworn I saw him make the sign of the cross before the sounds of the man waking up brought my attention back to the situation.    

He immediately started screaming and thrashing around. My uncle didn’t pay him any mind. For the first time in my life, I fought an internal struggle between right and wrong.

“You didn’t kill your parents, Briggs. He did,” Uncle reminded, fueling my battle of good versus evil.

My heart.

My mind.

My soul.

“LIAR!” the man yelled out.

I jumped, craving to place my hands over my ears, my eyes.

To hide.

To crawl into that empty space I’d been living in for years. To seek refuge within myself was the only way I knew how to survive.

“YOU’RE A FUCKING LIAR!” he screamed bloody murder, whipping around even harder, faster, almost making the chair fall over.

No one paid him any mind as I visibly struggled with my conflicting emotions.

Unforgiving.

Merciless.

Remorseless.

Please, God…

One right after the other.

“It’s midnight,” my uncle said, settling his stare on the man.

The rest played out in slow motion.

My uncle raised his gun, pointing it directly to the back of the man’s head. The man stopped moving as if he knew. All of the fight in him was gone.

Locking eyes with me instead.

I screamed, shaking. “No! No! No! You don’t have to do this!”

“Happy fifteenth birthday,
Daisy
.”

And with that…

He blew his fucking head off.