Crave Me (The Good Ol' Boys #4)(31)

My parents…

My brother…

The boys…

Alex.

Half-Pint.

Her.

That’s when I remembered I didn’t have my seatbelt on. It was her life or mine.

Hers or mine.

Hers or mine.

Hers or mine.

I. Chose. Hers.

Everything from there on out happened in slow motion. I threw my body towards the passenger seat, placing my arms over her tiny frame, desperately trying to hold her back. Glass shattered all around us as metal screeched at our sides. I felt my body being thrown backward as if I was flying through the air.

I shut my eyes and awaited my fate, praying to God for the first time in my life, to please, please…

Save her.

And then…

Everything. Went. Black.





<>Briggs<>


There’s no way to describe someone’s brains being blown out of their head, splattered on the floor and walls. Time just seemed to stand still, nothing moving, including me. Sour bile burned in the back of my throat, threatening to surface. There was an unfamiliar smell lingering in the air. Whether it was the scent of blood or death, I wasn’t sure, but I would never forget it for as long as I lived.

It was now a part of me, burned into my senses whether I wanted it to be or not.

My eyes floated to a coolness I felt on my arm and I flinched sending the white matter to the floor after realizing what it was. That’s when I noticed my shirt. Red speckles splattered all over my white Superman tee. A sight I would never be able to un-see. A feeling I would never be able to un-feel. Despair washed over me, like when my parents died.

Adding to the pile that would forever haunt me.

The guy was dead, his blood not only on my clothes but also my hands. Another life lost because of me. I didn’t know how many more deaths my soul could handle.

I was doomed.

I would burn in Hell one day.

I might not have been the one who pulled the trigger, but it didn’t change the facts.

Uncle Alejandro did it for me.

That didn’t make it any better.

If anything, it only made it worse.

My eyes jerked in rapid movements, imprinting the gory details of the evening into my mind, my memory, and my soul.

Their nonchalant faces taunting me, like they didn't have a care in the world.

The kickback from the gun as it jerked back my uncle’s arm.

The flash behind it.

The sound of a bullet as it blasted through his skull, lodging into the steel door of the elevator, only a few inches away from my face.

The ringing sound in my ears caused from the blast, left me thinking I was deaf.

Blood…

Brains…

The God awful stench, imprinted.

All of it.

I took off like a bat out of Hell. I didn’t think twice about it. I ran on pure emotion and adrenaline, trying to seek shelter anyway I could. I punched the code into the service elevator as if my life depended on it. The scene wouldn’t stop playing out in front of my eyes, over and over in my mind.

On instant replay, I was powerless to stop it.

My heart pounded out of my chest and the walls felt like they were caving in with each passing second. The elevator dinged, the doors slid open and I was back in the kitchen. I pushed off the wall and ran as hard and as fast as I could for the front door. My legs burned and my body ached. I immediately tried to open the door, forgetting that it was still locked. I turned the knob, but it wouldn’t budge.

“What the f*ck?!” I screamed out, barely being able to hear myself. “Fuck!” I yelled in frustration, banging on the door.

Panic set in, I couldn't leave.

I never opened the door or left the house by myself. It took me a second to find the alarm that was on the far wall behind me. Stumbling on my own two feet, I almost fell to the floor running to it. My hands shook the entire time I punched the code in from the service elevator.

Nothing.

“Fuck!” I screeched out, punching it in once again.

Nothing.

I shuddered, resisting the urge to throw up. “What the f*ck?!” Swallowing hard, my mouth suddenly dry.

I backed away from the alarm and turned my efforts back toward the door.

“SOMEBODY HELP ME! SOMEBODY PLEASE HELP ME!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, over and over again, fists pounding as hard as I could. “PLEASE! PLEASE!”

I begged until my voice was raw, my throat burned, and my resolve broke.

Nothing.

No one.

I looked around the room and realized I was alone. No one had chased after me, no one was behind me, no one followed me.

I ran into my room, slamming the door behind me. I frantically looked around, trying to gather my thoughts. I needed to lock myself away, I quickly shoved my dresser in front of the door, making sure it was secure.

It was a useless precaution.

If my uncle wanted in, he would get in.

I was hyperventilating, held captive in a house that was supposed to be my home. I had nowhere to go, nowhere to turn, nowhere to run.

I had no one.

I fell to my knees, welcoming the sting from the impact. I sat there and let everything I was holding in go.

I bawled for my parents.

I cried for that man, even though I shouldn’t have.

I sobbed for what I was forced to witness.