Crave Me (The Good Ol' Boys #4)(2)

The only thing I could do to feel as if I wasn’t dying was…

To kill myself a little more.

I inserted the needle, welcoming the sting. My blood rushed in, and I slowly pushed down the plunger.

I wanted it to last.

I always do.

It was the best f*cking part.

I pulled the plunger back out and watched with hooded, constricted pupils as my blood swirled in once again.

Heaven and Hell. God and Satan. Love and hate. It all blended together. Forming a clusterf*ck of hope and despair.

Now…

Now, I squeezed my fist.

The rush.

Tingles from my fingers traveled up my arm and then, and then…

It hits.

Simultaneously my eyes closed and my head fell back against the couch.

I don’t care that it’s dirty.

I don’t care that it smells.

I don’t care about one f*cking thing.

All the misery was gone in the blink of an eye. As if it wasn’t even there to begin with. All that was left was the free, euphoric, and blissful feeling of pleasure that only this could ever bring me. My heart was full, filling in the hollow existence that was my life. The pain numbed.

Even if it was only temporary.

A few moments in time where the world faded into nothingness and I was swimming in an endless pool of possibilities. Not drowning in disappointment, judgment, and regret. Not feeling like I was dead inside, meanwhile I just killed myself a little more. I heard echoes everywhere. Colors blended together making it hard to focus on one thing. I blinked a few times and just like that…

I saw her face like I always did.

As if she was standing right in front of me.

Smiling.

Happy.

Laughing.

My whole world…

My girl.

My lips curled up slightly at the vision as I reached out for her. Wanting to touch her, needing to hold her, yearning to kiss her. Craving, God, craving to f*cking love her.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured aloud to no one but the illusion of my drug-infested mind. “I’m so f*cking sorry,” I repeated repentantly, longing for her to believe me.

Aching for her to love me again like she used to.

I don’t know how long I sat there, staring at her beautiful face before my eyes, subconsciously rubbing the tattooed daisy that was placed over my heart. I couldn’t take it anymore, and the desire won over the haze.

It was too powerful.

It was too vivid.

I grabbed my phone. “Baby,” I said into the speaker. The ringing quickly followed, going straight to voicemail. I hung up and tried again. “Baby,” I urged with desperation in my tone.

Still nothing.

I tried again and again and again.

I would try until the end of time if that’s what it took for her to answer.

To talk to me.

To save me.

To crave me.

Time seemed to standstill, as my life slowly played out in front of me. Trying to balance somewhere in between the light and the darkness when all I could see was gray.

“What?!” she screamed into the phone, finally answering after I don’t know how many failed attempts. “What the hell do you want now?”

“Baby.” I breathed a sigh of relief.

“What do you want, Austin? Why are you calling me? We’re over! I can’t do this anymore!”

I shut my eyes and let my mind wander, allowing it to go to another place in time where she didn’t hate me.

“I remember the first time I made you smile,” I chuckled, as if it had just happened.

My nerves were on fire. The mere sound of her breathing through the phone was too intense for me. I hadn’t spoken to her in such a long time. I licked my lips, my mouth suddenly dry.

“I remember when you used to smile just for me. Do you remember, baby? Do you remember what my love feels like?”

I heard her faintly breathing.

“Do you remember my hands on you? My lips? My tongue? The first time I made you come with my mouth? Do you remember all the times since? Tell me I’m not forgotten. Tell me you remember, baby.”

Silence.

“I love you, Briggs. I love you so f*cking much. You’re killing me, don’t you see that? I’m dying without you.”

“No, Austin. You were dying with me,” she rasped, knowing that it killed her to say that.

“The first time I saw your face, I thought to myself, damn, this beautiful girl is goin’ to be the death of me. You were perfect in every way. I was a cocky son of a bitch who needed you then, as much as I need you now.”

More silence.

“I had a dream about you, baby. I always f*cking dream about you. In my dream, you had a ring on your finger. A ring I put there. You belonged to me. Only mine. Forever f*cking mine. You were pregnant, Briggs. You looked so goddamn happy. I saw light at the end of the tunnel for the first time in years.”

She sniffled into the phone.

“I made love to you. Slow, just the way you love. Taking my time to touch every last inch of your body. Memorizing every last bit of you. Making you come until you begged me to stop. I didn’t.”

“I can’t—” she tried to interject, but I didn’t let up.

“I kissed your stomach. Our baby. Letting my lips linger there, whispering sweet lullabies, letting her know Daddy will always be there. Baby, it was so real. For a second I gave you the one thing you so desperately wanted, the one thing I can’t seem to give you.”