Crave Me (The Good Ol' Boys #4)(14)

He’d been calling me Briggs since the day I told him to at my parents’ funeral, Daisy died in the car accident as far as I was concerned.

“For fighting or for getting caught?” he vaguely added.

I looked all around the room as if the answer was written on the walls.

“I told you to look me in the eyes when I’m talking to you, Briggs. I won’t warn you again,” he viciously spoke, snapping my attention back to him.

My mouth parted as I peered into his eyes like he ordered. My eyes widening in shock.

“I expect an answer. You’re wearing very thin on my patience, little girl.”

“I—”

“Se?or.” Esteban stepped forward, away from the door, interrupting me. “I’ll vouch for her. The boy started it all.”

Uncle Alejandro didn’t make a sound. He didn’t even move. His eyes shifted to Esteban who was now standing beside me. An eerie silence filled the room. It was then that I realized my uncle was like a venomous snake. You would never see or hear him coming but once he struck, it was too late.

You were dead.

His lip curled upward but not in a smile or comforting way. If anything it only added to the tightening sensation I felt deep within my bones that I swear radiated all around us. He nodded and then brought his right hand up to his jaw. Tilting his head to the side, he cracked his neck before placing his arms behind his back, holding them there. His eyes showed no emotion, no mercy, they were still dark and daunting as always. His expensive suit jacket perfectly in place, as he set one foot in front of the other with precise and calculated steps. His Armani dress shoes echoed off the tile floor, one stride after another, until he was up in Esteban’s face, who didn’t cower down either.

“If you cherish the legs you’re standing on, I suggest you walk the f*ck away.”

I jerked back, stunned. My stare inadvertently moved to his hands that were still locked behind his back. Realizing he wasn’t holding his hands behind him, they were firmly wrapped around the handle of a gun. More than ready to follow through with his threat.

“Se?or,” Esteban coaxed, “I believe you asked me to do a job, and I go where she goes.” He nodded toward me.

My mouth dropped open and I shouted, “Uncle! I’m sorry that I got caught,” I lied, praying that it would take the heat off Esteban.

Uncle Alejandro snidely grinned, ignoring my outburst. “La peladita te tiene cari?o, Esteban,” he mocked, “The little girl is taken with you.” His glare never left Esteban’s face.

“Con todo respeto, yo también,” Esteban replied, “With all due respect, I do too.”

My chest rose and descended with each word that fell from their lips, terrified of how this would end. Neither of them backed down. My uncle narrowed his eyes at him and swiftly moved his hands from behind his back, releasing his gun. I jumped when he started clapping, the sound deafening in the foyer. He stepped back from Esteban to finally peer over at me. My heart was beating a mile a minute.

It was now my turn to answer to him.

“Someone has a knight in shining armor, Daisy.”

He said my name to hurt me, to make me remember who I really was which was inferior to him.

“Briggs,” I simply stated, hating that it had the desired effect he wanted.

I saw a gleam in his eyes that he didn't try to hide. Even though it was quick, I caught it. He put his hands out in front of him in a surrendering gesture, dramatically bowing his head.

“By all means, Briggs. Since we’re all making f*cking friends here, how about we cut the bullshit? Yo se que usted habla y entiende muy bien el espanol, peladita,” he added, “I know you speak and understand Spanish very well, little girl.”

I didn’t falter.

I couldn’t.

He didn’t want me to.

It was now or never. I could tell myself that two could play his game, but some place deep inside, a place I just figured out existed, so desperately wanted to please him. Maybe I was looking for approval, gratification, support, knowing deep in my heart that all I was looking for was…

Love.

“You never asked. You never ask me anything for that matter,” I countered. “But I know all about you. My mom told me. You know? Your loving sister.” Throwing that in there for affect.

His eyes glazed over for a split second, and then he blinked it away. Just like that, the cold obscurity in his dark blue eyes was back like it had never left, even if it was only for a moment.

“She loved you.”

Another glaze. Another blink.

“She also said you loved me. ‘Adored me’ were her exact words, but since we’re putting out all the bullshit,” I cussed for the first time and it felt so foreign coming from my lips. I ignored the lingering sentiment and finally said, “You don’t love me. You barely even like me. You tolerate me because you don’t have a choice. I’m here because I have to be. Nothing more, nothing less. So let’s not get it twisted. You’re not the hero in this story. You’re not the victim either. To me… you look more like the villain in an expensive suit.”

He smiled.

Big and wide.

It lit up the entire room.

It was first time in three years that I saw the man smile, and I would be lying if I said it didn’t make me happy that I was the reason behind it. He took a seat on the leather couch, with a look I couldn’t begin to understand. He brought one leg up, resting his ankle on the opposite knee. His arms spread along the back of the sofa. The massive couch suddenly seemed small in comparison to my uncle.