Crave Me (The Good Ol' Boys #4)(71)

“Relax? Are you for real right now? Get your ass up, now! We’re over an hour late and we still have to drive there and that’s another thirty minutes!”

“Babe, it’s fine. Just explain—”

“Explain what, Austin? That we’ve been getting f*cked up on X and blow for the last forty-eight hours? Jesus Christ! These are drug lords not f*cking PTA members. Get up!” She threw some clothes at me.

“I’m up, I’m up! Jesus, stop f*cking screaming at me, Briggs. I’ll be ready in ten minutes. Let me jump in the shower.”

She sighed in frustration, hurrying out of the room to go find God knows what, but at least that meant she had stopped yelling at me. I walked into the bathroom, turning on the shower to let the water run for a minute so it could get warm. The pipes in Colombia f*cking sucked. It didn’t matter how much you paid for your five-star suite. In the last year, we had been back there three times since that night in New York. I learned fast that this country was definitely where most of the deals went down.

I inspected my face in the mirror. I looked like dog shit, my eyes were bloodshot red, and my pupils were still so f*cking dilated. The pain in my back got worse as time went on, especially since I never got therapy for it. The Percocets stopped working over a year ago, I became immune to them or some shit. I started taking Oxys instead. I didn’t have to take as many and it numbed the pain, but that was like a double-edged sword. Being numb allowed me to do things I probably shouldn’t have, only f*cking up my back more.

I downed two of them on my way to the shower, doing a quick rinse just to wake up. I threw on some jeans and a black t-shirt.

“Fuck,” I breathed out to myself, sinking into the chair, trying to put some shoes on.

I was still so damn tired and out of it. I could hardly f*cking see straight. My mind was shot to shit, and I could barely form a coherent thought. All I wanted to do was crash and sleep away the shitty feeling. There wasn’t a chance in Hell I’d let Briggs go by herself. If something happened to her, I’d kill the motherf*cker responsible and then myself.

She was my everything. We hadn’t said I love you to each other, but we didn’t need to.

We knew.

Actions would always speak louder than words.

I shook my head, looking at the blow that was still sitting on the dining table.

“Briggs?”

Silence.

We never did drugs before a meeting. Not even weed. In the last two years that I had been with her it was one line we never crossed. We always went in with a clear head, just in case shit went down. But the way I was feeling at that moment, trust me…

She wanted me to snort some cocaine.

At least then I would be lucid.

I did a line up each nostril before deciding to do two more. The effects not as potent as they were a day ago, but it immediately took the edge off and I grabbed a Redbull from the fridge.

You ready?” Briggs asked, opening the door peeking her head in.

Even ate up as shit with two days of partying and barely three hours of sleep, she still took my goddamn breath away.

“Yeah.” I raised my drink. “Want one?”

“I have one already in the car.”

I grabbed my gun, placing it in the holster on my back. “I’ll drive,” I said, grabbing the keys out of her hands.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I feel better now.” I kissed her, and she smiled.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you. I just can’t believe we slept through the alarms.”

“Shit happens. Come on.”

I sped the entire way there, knocking off fifteen minutes of our drive time. By the look on Briggs’ face, she was grateful for the small miracle I just pulled off. I opened the door stepping out of the car, but she caught my arm stopping me.

“What?” I asked, taken aback.

“The man we’re about to see, Austin, he’s different, okay? He’s not like what you’re used to seeing.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Just that, I’ve met him a few times. Which is why he won’t have his bodyguards beside him. So… keep that in mind, okay?”

“Baby, I don’t know what you’re trying to imply, but I’m not going to let any motherf*cker talk—”

“I know, Austin. That’s why I’m telling you all this. He’s not just anyone. He’s a friend, okay? Behave yourself and keep your emotions in check.”

“I thought you didn’t have any friends besides me.”

“Not mine,” she simply stated.

I nodded, understanding. She meant it was Martinez’s friend. She kissed me, giving me a loving look before exiting the car.

I lit a cigarette, suddenly f*cking pissed that I didn’t know what I was walking into.

Over the last two years, we had been all over South America. We never stayed in one-place longer than two weeks tops. Briggs said it was safer that way. She literally sat down and met with the business associates, while I stood in the back watching. Always with one hand behind my back on my gun, prepared and waiting for one of these f*ckers to make a wrong move.

Sometimes it was one guy, sometimes up to four.

I had gotten used to standing in the background, watching their mannerisms, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Picking up sentences here and there, since they usually spoke Spanish. I hadn’t met or talked to Martinez yet. Briggs said that was a good thing, it meant we were doing a good job. She barely even talked to him herself, so I guess it wasn’t just me. Briggs really did know how to take care of herself and handle business. None of the men she encountered ever disrespected her either.