Crave Me (The Good Ol' Boys #4)(75)

“Hey, I'm going to make some food. Did you want—“ She stopped dead in her tracks, taking in my appearance. “Austin…” she coaxed, walking toward me. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Our eyes locked.

I didn’t have a chance to register her face. I just pushed off the island and walked past her to grab my suitcase. Throwing it on the bed, grabbing random shit from my closet.

“Austin, are you leaving me?”

Her worried tone snapped me out the chaos surrounding me that was taking me under.

“Never,” I simply stated. “Baby, grab some shit. We got to go.”

“Go? Go where? What are you talking about? You’re scaring me, Austin.”

I didn’t falter. “Home. I got to go home.”

Her head jerked back, stunned by my revelation. I told her I had no one to go home to, and I knew that was one of the reasons she agreed to let me come with her in the first place.

We never talked about my past.

Not my parents.

Not the boys.

Not even Alex.

They didn't exist in my new life. Out of sight, out of mind for the most part. Which was about to come back and bite me in the f*cking ass.

There I was about to take her home to my truths, the ones I had been running away from for the last three years. At that moment, in that second, I didn’t care about the repercussions that would follow from her learning my reality.

I needed her.

More now than I ever had before. She was my rock, my reason. The one thing that was constant in my life.

There was no way in hell I could do this without her.

She was all that mattered to me.

“Home? I thought—”

“Baby, we don’t have time for this. We need to go if we’re going to make it.”

“Make it? What exactly are we making? Are you on something right now? You’re not making any sense,” she asked even more confused.

“The funeral.”

Her eyes widened.

I shook my head, walking back to the closet to change into some black slacks and a black collared, button-down shirt.

“Baby, please…” I urged as I was throwing my slacks on, not looking at her but feeling her stare.

There would be too much hurt evident on her face, and I was already feeling that enough deep within my core. I watched her finally move, going into the closet to change and pack some clothes.

It didn’t take us long to get to airport. I broke so many traffic laws on our way there, I just wanted to board that plane and get there. I was lucky enough to find us tickets on a flight departing within the hour. I wasn’t taking any chances. We didn’t talk the entire two-hour flight, but at one point she reached over and held my hand. Still intently staring out the window from her seat. As soon as the seat belt light turned off, I got up to use the bathroom on the plane. Feeling sick to my f*cking stomach with what I was about to walk into.

I grabbed the Oxy’s from my pocket crushing them up on the small metal counter with a credit card. I didn’t want to feel any of the shit that was going on around me.

It was like I was drowning in the deep end of a pool that had no water.

I. Couldn’t. Fucking. Breathe.

The agony I felt was more severe than any pain in my back could ever be. I rolled up a bill and snorted the contents up my nose, not wanting to wait more than I had to for them to kick in and numb the pain.

It was alive and thriving all around me.

We landed at ten-thirty, getting to the hotel by almost eleven-thirty where we checked in and left our luggage to be taken up to our room. By the time we hailed a cab, it was well after noon.

We were late.

“Daisy,” I murmured, staring out the window of the taxi.

I never called her that. I could see her glancing at me in the reflection on the glass. Worry written clear across her beautiful face.

“I would never intentionally hurt you. Please remember that.”

She opened her mouth to say something but quickly shut it, looking back out her window. We weren’t more than a foot apart in the backseat, but it felt like miles of distance were placed between us.

Physically and mentally.

We pulled up to the cemetery around one. I paid the driver, and we got out of the car. It was the moment of truth. My heart was pounding out off my f*cking chest. I grabbed Briggs' hand, needing to feel her.

The funeral was over but there were still people scattered around. I didn’t pay attention to anyone, too focused on the grave that we were walking toward. Grabbing a single rose from one of the several floral arrangements, I finally made my way to her grave.

I bowed my head, closing my eyes. The pills weren’t working. I don't think the strongest drugs in the world could touch the pain in my heart at that moment. I still felt everything.

I hunched over, my legs unable to support my crumbling body. I delicately placed the rose above the engraved beloved mother, burying my face in my hands. I had no idea how long I stayed like that with my grief spilling out of me. Briggs' hands placed on my back, gently rubbing back and forth trying to comfort me.

Not saying a word, not asking any questions, just being there for me in my time of need.

I could have been kneeling there for a minute or an hour. Time seemed to standstill but the pain seemed to keep going on all around me.

I wiped my face before I stood. Briggs grabbed my hand as I locked eyes with Lucas who was maybe thirty feet away. His gaze took me in, no longer the boy I was when I left. Now a man covered in tattoos with more guilt to add to his never-ending list.