Crave Me (The Good Ol' Boys #4)

I was killing her as much as I was killing myself.

Our love was bleeding, oozing from the shackles, hammering out of me with each passing second placed between us. I could physically feel it deteriorating away, piece by piece.

I placed my hand over my heart desperately trying to keep it together. To keep our love where it’s supposed to stay forever, but it was too late. I couldn’t stop it, and for the first time I was terrified that it would never let me go.

“I know that if I keep using, if I keep going down this road, I’m going to die, and I don’t want to fucking die,” I bellowed, shaking my head. “That’s not an option. I’m not trying to die. But I don’t know how to fucking break free from the demon that lurks in my shadow. Seeing what I saw tonight, you with baby Bo, broke my heart again. I needed to numb the pain, even if it was only for a few minutes.” I looked up at her with a trembling lip, struggling to continue. “I saw her again. Our daughter standing right in front of me with so much sadness in her eyes. Not smiling like all the times before. She took one look at me and shook her head, Briggs. My own drug-infected illusion was disappointed in me. Then she was gone, she vanished.”

My body fell forward burying my face in my hands letting everything out.

Every last part of me.

“I don’t know what to do, Briggs! I wish I could be stronger for you. For us! I wish I could be the man you fell in love with. But I don’t know how! Every single day is a struggle for me to stay sober, and I don’t think it’s ever going away. As much as I want it to… as much as I pray… it’s apart of me now. AND IT WON’T LET ME GO! I thought leaving New York and coming here would eliminate the triggers, but it hasn’t. Please God! Please… fucking help me!”

She didn’t waver, getting down on her knees to hold my crumbling body in her arms. I went willingly, needing comfort, needing solace.

Needing her.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Please help me, Daisy… please God help me. Please, please.... Take away this fucking pain in my heart. I need you, baby, I need you like I need fucking air to breath. I'm nothing without you! NOTHING! Please… just fucking help me!”

“It’s going to be okay, Austin. I’m here,” she wallowed, her heart breaking for me.

I sobbed harder, my face tucked in to her chest with my arms wrapped tightly around her. She was the only thing keeping me together, even though there wasn't much left of my hollow existence.

Everything changed that night on the beach.

Briggs took me home, and I slept in her arms all night. Knowing that after tonight I wouldn’t get to hold her for a while. She woke up early the next morning, and I stayed in bed for as long as I could. Battling between my craving to go use and my desire to stay with her. Thank God…

My love for her won.

She checked me into rehab.

And I went willingly.





Chapter 32





<>Austin<>



Four years later



“Go fuck yourself,” Briggs sassed.

“Why would I do that? When I could just fuck you.”

She immediately got up from her chair to run away.

“Where do you think you’re going?” I laughed, grabbing her around the waist.

She shrieked, doubling over as I tickled her.

“You’re supposed to let me run first. It takes all the fun out of it if you catch me before I get a chance to run, Austin!” she giggled, gasping for air.

It was still the sweetest sound I’d ever heard.

“Why would I have to chase you if you’re already in my arms?”

“Because I run and you chase! That’s the game we play,” she playfully teased.

I loved these moments with her. She was so carefree and happy again.

My girl.

“Is that right?”

I tickled her one last time before turning her around to face me, roughly smacking her luscious ass and giving it a squeeze. She let out a yelp and squirmed in my arms, trying to break free.

Her mouth parted and she bit her lower lip, making my cock twitch. I picked her up to straddle my waist, rubbing her up and down my hard dick.

“I like this game better,” I rasped, carrying her over to the front counter of my tattoo shop.

Positioning her ass on the edge.

It had been four years since my relapse that night on the beach. Each day was a struggle, but it was getting better and easier as more time went by. Briggs dropped me off at rehab the morning after I used. I checked myself into the ninety-day program. We only told Dylan what was going on. She told everyone else that I had to finish up some work stuff in New York.

No one asked after that.

During that time Briggs got really close to my family and friends, including my dad, which shocked me more than anything did. But then again, she always had that effect on people. She was hard not to love. I knew having a family was what Briggs had always wanted, and I was thrilled that they were able to offer her that.

Rehab fucking sucked.

But I stayed and did what I was supposed to.

For her.

M. Robinson's books