Crave Me (The Good Ol' Boys #4)(64)

And for the first time since the car accident, I wanted her to take my pain away too.

I grabbed two pain pills, swallowing them down with no water. They burned my dry throat going down, but I welcomed the distraction. Seconds later, I heard the shower turn on and soft crying echoed through the room. It killed me that she was crying, that our sad stories could affect her that much. The tough-girl exterior gone, replacing it with the girl that I knew still lived inside her.

The same girl whose name she wouldn’t tell me.

All I could do was hope that one day.

She would.

I let her have her space. Grabbing my notebook from the counter, I went back to the couch, taking out all my frustrations and sadness on blank paper. I don’t know how long I sat there engrossed in my truths, when I finally heard the bathroom door open.

She walked toward me immediately and grabbed my hand. “Come on.” Without another word, I set my notebook aside and followed her.

We drove in silence in the car. Both of us lost in our thoughts. I didn’t even care where she was taking me, too caught up in the irony and fate of it all. She parked the car on the street, pulling up the parking brake. It was then that I looked around the building.

“Where are we?”

She opened the door and turned looking me dead in my eyes. “To make your sad story a happy one.”

“What—”

She stepped out of the car before I could even finish. She was on a mission as I followed close behind her up to the door. She opened it and walked inside. I threw down my cigarette, stepping on it to put it out.

“Jose!” she called out to the guy in the back as soon as the door closed behind me.

He turned and smiled as soon as he saw her.

“Briggs! My girl!”

He was over to her in three strides, pulling her into his arms. She laughed, smiling over at me from above his shoulder. He pulled away first, peering back at me.

“Hey, man.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Jose.”

I shook it. “Austin.”

“You hanging out with trouble over here?” he asked, nodding toward her.

“Something like that,” I chuckled.

“Hey, I bring you a new client, and you give me shit,” she laughed.

“Client?” I broke in, still so f*cking confused with the turn of events.

“Come on.” Grabbing my hand she led me to a table.

She sat me down and it was then I realized we were in a tattoo shop. She squatted down in front of me, sitting on the balls of her feet and once again looked deep into my eyes as she spoke with conviction, “Pick a scar, Austin. Turn your pain into something f*cking beautiful.”

And I did.





<>Briggs<>


The second the needle touched Austin’s scar, the worst one on the middle of his back, I knew he would instantly become addicted to ink. There was nothing that could ever explain the surge of adrenaline that soared through your body when you took your pain into your own hands.

Not letting it take you under. Even if it was only until the needle stopped moving against your flesh. His scar now getting covered by the outline, color, and shading.

He decided on a phoenix bird spreading its wings, flying out of the flames of Hell below.

Rising.

Reborn.

The outline took up most of his back, covering up the evidence that haunted him every day. We spent the rest of the night there, while Jose worked his magic on Austin’s imperfect skin. Creating something beautiful out of something broken. He said it would take three or four sessions to finish it completely, but when it was done it’d be a pretty sick masterpiece. Austin told him he would be back the next morning, eager to get it finished.

We drove in comfortable silence on the way back to our hotel. I knew he wanted to say so much by the way he was stealing glances at me while he was smoking his cigarette. I didn’t need to hear it. The happiness on his face was enough of a “thank you” for me.

Austin went right in the shower when we got back to the hotel. I cleaned up the food I left in the kitchen, deciding to order room service for us instead. I used the phone on the end table by the couch, turning on the TV after I hung up.

I would be lying if I said I hadn’t been staring at Austin’s notebook that was placed on the coffee table since I started cleaning up the kitchen. It was sitting right there, tempting me to open it and find out the secrets behind the cover. For whatever reason, he never left it out. I knew he drew. I just didn’t know what he was actually drawing on the pages inside. I’d watch him get lost for hours with that notebook in his lap. Never finding the courage to ask him what captivated him so damn much.

I still heard the shower running. I knew it was wrong to invade his privacy without permission, but I couldn’t f*cking help myself.

I needed to know.

With shaky hands, I reached over to the table and picked up the notebook that held a piece of Austin’s world. I wasn’t worried that he could come out of the bathroom at any moment and catch me red-handed.

I was more worried about what my eyes would see.

My heart was pounding, my mind racing as if it knew that I was about to discover something that would change our friendship. Something that would change our future. Colliding us onto a path that we would never be able to veer away from.

I gasped, completely breathless from the first sketch I saw while invading his soul.