Crave Me (The Good Ol' Boys #4) (41 page)

I sat in the emergency room waiting area with my screen-shattered phone clutched tightly in my grasp. My knee nervously bounced with anticipation, unable to sit still. It felt like I’d been sitting there for days, but in reality it was only a few hours. I got out of my chair a few times, pacing the room, looking out in the hallway at the double doors where Austin was taken back.

Nothing.

Waiting.

My mind raced with thoughts, with guilt, with shame from everything that Dylan had just reminded me of. Bringing back everything that I had worked so hard to push to the back of my conscience. Every last feeling made its presence known. I spent the last two and a half years in therapy with Dr. Holden. Having several breakthroughs in my sessions. Finally believing that his addiction wasn’t my fault. When I saw my phone light up with Dylan’s name, I knew if he was calling me after all this time, something bad had happened. I didn’t answer, I was too terrified. I listened to the voicemail he’d left, asking me if I had talked to or seen Austin. The panic in his tone immediately brought up red flags. Then Austin called a few minutes after and all it took was one fucking phone call to send me spiraling out of control once again.

I hadn’t talked to him since I left Oak Island. I knew if I had, I would have gone back to him and died a little more inside. I needed to heal. I needed to find myself. I needed to learn how to love myself before loving somebody else. He still called me and left voicemails all the time. The text messages were endless. All went unanswered. I started to delete them without hearing or reading a single message. My therapist asked me why I wouldn’t change my phone number and put an end to the problem.

Out of sight, out of mind.

I had yet to give her an honest answer to that question. Deep down, I knew I couldn’t let go. He had a hold on my soul. Something made me answer that particular call tonight. It hit me like a ton of fucking bricks. I finally realized that all I’d been doing was waiting.

Knowing that eventually I would answer the phone. I would pick up his call, and he would be on the other end…

Dying.

“Briggs!” Dylan called out, making me look up from my chair.

I stood, swallowing hard as everyone came barreling in through the automatic emergency room doors. The boys, Alex, Lily, and Aubrey came toward me while his parents went straight to the nurse’s station.

“Is it true?” Lucas snapped a few feet away from me.

Alex instantly caught his arm, holding him back.

“I… I… I’m sorry…” I nervously breathed out.

“You’re sorry? That’s your fucking response?” Jacob argued, standing in front of me with an anxious Lily on his arm.

“How long? How long has this been fucking going on?” Lucas roared, bringing my attention back to him.

I shook my head unable to form words. Overwhelmed by all their questions and accusations that were running wild in their heads.

I was to blame here.

I was the outsider.

The enabler.

“Unbelievable. Are you a junkie too? Did you do this to him? Did you make him this way?” he added.

“No! I swear! I tried. I tried every day! I promise you that! I never wanted this. I never wanted to see him like this!” I sincerely replied, my eyes filling with tears.

“Why didn’t you tell us? We could have helped him. We’re his fucking family,” Jacob chimed in.

“He didn’t want anyone to know. He was in recovery for four years, I didn’t think he would relapse and when he did, I didn’t know. The day I found out, I left. Okay? He was lying to me too. I haven’t spoken to him in two-and-a-half years. I swear I didn’t know it was this bad.”

They all jerked back, stunned by my revelation.

“He didn’t tell you? That we weren’t together?”

“He works all the time, Briggs. We knew you guys were having problems, and he told us you went back to New York for a while, but we figured you still spoke and were trying to work things out. You never answered or returned any of my calls. Austin never specified and we just figured…” Alex paused, frowning. “Oh my God. How did I not know this?”

“Austin is really good at making you believe what you want to see,” I simply stated.

“You!” Austin’s dad yelled over everyone, pointing a finger at me. “Did you do this to my son?! Is he in there because of you?! Why didn’t you tell us?! Who the hell do you think you are to hide something like this?! We’re his parents! We deserved to know what was going on!”

“I know I—”

“We treated you like you were our own, like family. How dare you lie to us?” he added with the same fierce tone.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” I wallowed, my heart pounding out of my chest.

I didn’t know what to say to them, which only pissed me off further that Austin never told anyone. The shit-storm was falling all on me. Once again his poor decisions were all my fault.

“Get out,” his dad gritted through clenched teeth, aggressively pointing to the emergency room doors.

“Joseph,” his mom coaxed, looking up at his face and then back at me with sympathy in her eyes.

“You don’t belong here. You never did,” he ordered not paying his wife any mind. “My son is fighting for his life because of you. Now leave before I have you escorted out,” he heaved with anger.

“Me?! How about you?! For always treating Austin like he was never good enough. For being a piece of shit father, and not wanting to accept your son for who he wanted to be. Everyone in this room, including myself, is partially responsible for him being in there,” I honestly spoke, unable to control the truth.

His grimaced. It was quick, but I saw it. “I won’t tell you again. Get the—”

“That’s enough,” Dylan interrupted me, speaking up for the first time since they all arrived.

All eyes were on him, including mine. Realizing quickly that this wasn’t going to end in my favor. I shook my head, turning to leave, defeated.

“I knew,” Dylan declared, making me stop dead in my tracks.  

I winced, knowing the truth he was about to share with everyone.

“I’ve always known. He’s been struggling with addiction since the car accident.”

I shut my eyes, taking a deep breath, slowly letting the air escape from my lips.

“Briggs is right. She saved his life more times than any of you could ever possibly know. She deserves to be here more than any of us. I’m sorry, Briggs. I spoke out of anger on the phone. If it wasn’t for you, we would be planning a funeral.”

I spun around to face them once again. Each one of them looked at me. Hatred was replaced with shame and remorse. I was so grateful for Dylan coming to my defense. He could have let them continue to rip me to shreds, but he stepped up, throwing himself under the bus. Aubrey kissed him, pulling him into her arms.

No one spoke after that. No more questions, accusations, anger. We all took a seat awaiting the doctor. They all had someone with them, except me. My someone was lying in a hospital bed, possibly dying.

Even though there was so much to say, it took a backseat.

All we could do now was wait.

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 OD’ed 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 wasn’t 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 wasn’t 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 couldn’t do this on my own. Realizing for the first time that I couldn’t do it alone. I needed my family, and my friends. The people that loved me, to help in my recovery.

I didn’t want to die, again. That was never my intention in the first place. I just didn’t 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 didn’t 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 hadn’t 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 wasn’t 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.

“I love you, Daisy. I’ll always love you. No matter what.”

She smiled. “I know. I’m yours.”

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 hadn’t 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.  

“Hey,” she announced, barely above a whisper.

I smiled. I couldn’t help it. “Hey,” I rasped.

We both stared at each other, lost in our own thoughts. I looked over at my sitter with a pleading expression. I couldn’t 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.

“You’re Briggs?” she stated, raising her eyebrows.

“Yes.”

“He owes you his life, young lady.” She nodded toward me.

“In a way, I owe him my life, too. So I guess we’re even,” Briggs said out of nowhere, bringing my attention back to her.

“You have twenty minutes. I’m going to get some coffee, and I will be standing right outside that door. No funny business, okay?”

I held up three fingers. “Scouts honor.”   

She left, closing the door behind her. Briggs didn’t 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.

“Your hair,” I coaxed, nodding to her, breaking the silence between us.

She smiled, grabbing the ends and looking down at them.

“Yeah,” she simply stated not elaborating any further.

Awkward silence filled the space between us.  

“You still have your tattoos, right?” I chuckled.

She nodded never breaking eye contact, finally asking, “So, how do you feel?” Like she’d been waiting to ask since she found me in the warehouse.

I shrugged. “Like shit. Which is better than I deserve. You’re looking at me like I’m going to break or something, Briggs.”

She shook her head, looking down at the ground. I immediately regretted saying something.

“You weren’t breathing, Austin. I couldn’t feel your heart, your pulse. You died right in front of me.” She rubbed her forehead, deeply sighing as if she was reliving it all over again in her mind.

“Are you okay?” I asked, pulling her away from her thoughts.

She eyed me cautiously. “I was. I think. I don’t even know anymore.” She pushed off the wall and walked over to sit in the chair by the side of my bed. “I 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 haven’t been able to sleep since that night. I keep thinking that if Dylan hadn’t called me first, I wouldn’t have answered your call. Or what if I hadn’t been in Oak Island when I answered you. You would have died. My therapist—”

“Therapist?” I frowned.

“I’ve been seeing her since I left you. She’s 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,” 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 didn’t 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, “You’re here to say goodbye.”