Crave Me (The Good Ol' Boys #4)(34)

It didn’t.

After she left, I sat there by myself. I couldn’t get my mind to shut off, I couldn’t get my feelings to stop attacking me, turning on me and making me feel like a bigger piece of shit than I already knew I was.

Regret…

Remorse…

Shame…

Almost. Killing. Alex.

I reached for the morphine drip.

And pressed the button.





<>Briggs<>


I jumped as soon as I heard the knock on the door. The loud noise startled me even though I knew it was coming at any moment. It still didn’t prepare me. Nothing did. I held in my breath the entire time not wanting to make a sound, trying to remain calm in the chaos. Not allowing it to take me further and further into the black abyss. Praying that my uncle would accept my silence and just go away. I jumped again with the second knock, my nerves were on fire and all that did was pour gasoline on the fear that had taken up residence in my body, igniting it more.

“Daisy…”

My heart dropped.

The pounding rhythm immediately subsided and it was replaced with an unfamiliar feeling. A feeling I couldn’t quite place, it didn’t scare me, but it didn’t comfort me either.

“Daisy, open the door. It’s me.”

It’s me.

He said it like it made a difference, like it took away the last few hours of my life, like he didn’t play a part in the turn of events tonight and like he wasn’t one of the reasons I was there in the first place. As if saying “It’s me” made it all go away and magically better. Trying to put a Band Aid on my soul, when it was already broken beyond repair.

“Daisy, please… just open the f*cking door,” he wallowed, his voice wrecked and torn.

My feet moved on their own accord, my body being pulled by a string. Drawing me closer and closer to the door. Before I knew it I pushed my dresser out of the way and turned the knob. I instantly jerked back, assaulted with the strong scent of alcohol. Esteban was leaning on the wall beside my door, one arm propped up with his forehead pressed against the drywall, his other hand still in the air ready to knock again.

It took him a second to realize I had opened the door. Angling his head slightly to look at me, we locked eyes, our expressions mirroring each other. His eyes were bloodshot and swollen. I couldn’t tell if it was from crying or from the bottle of whiskey that was still firmly clutched in his grasp. We stood there for a while not saying anything. Words weren’t necessary. Our eyes spoke for themselves.

And his spoke volumes.

“I’m so f*cking sorry,” he breathed out. Desperation and sadness written all over his face, I had never seen him like that before.

It physically pained me to see him that way. The once strong, solid man was gone. All that was left in his place was a man nearly on his knees begging for forgiveness.

“Where is he?” I asked, needing to know.

“Gone. For now, anyway.”

“How could you do this to me?” I whispered, my eyes filling with fresh tears.

He shook his head, averting his eyes to the floor. Not able to look at me anymore.

“Did you think I had a choice, Daisy? We’re more alike than you realize,” he paused to let his words sink in. “This life. It’s yours whether you want it to be or not. It’s the shitty cards you were dealt. All you can do is embrace it, because if you don’t, it will bury you alive. I could have warned you. I could have told you to leave. I could have done a lot of things… but in the end, it doesn’t matter. You’re already nailed to the cross.”

I vigorously shook my head.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

“Fuck you,” I scoffed, snapping his attention back to me again. “Do you hear me? Fuck. You!” I screamed not caring who heard me. Tears streamed down my cheeks and fell to the floor between us, along with my jaded heart and f*cked up soul.

I turned around and went back into my room, needing to sit down. I sat on the edge of my bed defeated, hating that he was right, hating that I had no choice, hating that this was my life now.

I hated my uncle, but I hated myself even more.

I bawled. I sobbed so hard that my body convulsed and I couldn’t breathe. The walls were crashing down all around me. Hyperventilating and sucking in air that wasn’t available for the taking, drowning in my own despair. Asking God why, why I deserved this? Beginning to think he didn’t even exist.

I felt fingers caress the side of my face, wiping away my tears that kept falling, one right after the other. I peeked up through wet lashes and blurry eyes, Esteban was on his knees in front of me.

“I’m so f*cking sorry,” he rasped, his own voice breaking.

That’s when I really lost it.

That’s when it really hit me.

It was all a lie.

No God.

No family.

No love.

I was all alone. Abandoned. By myself.

I trembled, my body giving out on me. Any ounce of strength I had left vanished. He pulled me into his strong, solid arms. A place I was so familiar with. The only comfort I’ve ever known since the day I died. I sobbed uncontrollably, my vision blurred and my throat locked up, becoming so raw, so dry, so torn into pieces that I would never be able to be put back together. He held me tighter, trying like hell to save me from myself.