Crave Me (The Good Ol' Boys #4)

“Is he—”

“He OD’ed. He’s in the ICU. They don’t know if he’s going to make it,” I informed him, my tone sounding distant and detached.

“Jesus Christ,” he rasped. “What the fuck, Briggs? You promised me. You fucking promised me that you—”

“I’m sorry,” I wept, tears streaming down my face. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“How did it get this bad? How has it come to this? How could you let this happen?” he roared question after question, looking for answers I didn’t have.

I violently shook my head. “I tried. I swear to God I fucking tried! You have to believe me, Dylan!”

“No, Briggs. You didn’t. You’re the reason he’s there. If he dies, it’s on you, do you fucking hear me? You!”

I shut my eyes, my phone falling from my trembling hand, crashing to the ground. My body shuddering, knowing in my heart, he was right.

It wasn’t always like this.

At least…



Not in the beginning.





Chapter 1





<>Austin<>



“Austin, there you are!” my best friend Alex called out, running towards me with a huge smile on her pretty face.

Her name was Alexandra, but everyone called her Alex for short. She was only eight years old and thought she was one of us boys. Following us everywhere we went from the time she could crawl. Our Half-Pint shadow was our nickname for her.

“What are you doing over here on the dock all by yourself?”

I shrugged, not really knowing how to reply.

There were times that I wanted to be by myself. Alone with my thoughts where I could just let go and be me, without worrying about anyone else.

Where I wasn’t just one of the good ol’ boys.

Of all the people I knew, Alex would understand. Sometimes I felt like we had that in common, the need to escape.

It made things easier for me.

“Why do you have a fishing pole if you’re not fishing?” She giggled, taking a seat next to me on the dock. “What are you writing in that notebook, Austin? You can’t be doing homework, you hate school.”

She leaned over to see and I casually closed it, picking up the fishing pole and casting it out in the water.

“Did you walk over here by yourself, Half-Pint?” I asked, changing the subject.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not a baby, Austin. You’re nine, that’s only one year older than me and you walked over here by yourself,” she sassed, making me grin.

“Is that right?”

“I know what you’re thinking.”

“Hey, I didn't say a word, but I’m a boy and you’re not. So there is that.”

She narrowed her eyes at me, giving me the signature Alex glare. There was no telling her she couldn’t do something just because she was a girl. If you did, she would prove you wrong the second you laid out the challenge. Her willpower to prove her point had gotten her in trouble more times than I could count, but it didn’t stop me from picking on her, mostly because I loved getting a rise out of her.

We all did.

Our eyes moved to the fishing pole when it jolted and arched.

“You got a bite! Reel it in, Austin!” she exclaimed as she bounced on the balls of her feet, clapping her hands with excitement.

I did, jerking my body back every few seconds, reeling until the fish was out of the water, flapping around everywhere. I stood, laying the fishing pole down on the dock. Squatting down to grab its scaly body with one hand, I used my other to pull out the hook from its mouth.

“I bet I can catch a bigger fish than you,” Alex chimed in.

I grinned again, raising an eyebrow as I stood. “Oh yeah?”

She enthusiastically nodded.

“By all means, Half-Pint,” I challenged, handing her my pole.

She smiled, big and wide as she removed her Chucks. The same black ones us boys started wearing instead of the pink ones her mom begged her to buy. She took a dramatic deep breath before sitting back down with her legs dangling over the edge of the dock, her feet swimming in the water. The exact same way I’d been sitting.

I shook my head and smiled at the image. I watched with a curious gaze as she sat with the pole out in front of her, placed between her legs, her hand ready to reel in a big fish. Determination was written all over her face. She would beat me, even if it meant she would have to stay there all day trying. Something about the way she looked in that moment inspired me. Before I knew it I was opening my notebook, turning it to a fresh page. She didn’t pay me any mind, her attention focused solely on the task at hand.

I tried to capture how the lighting from the sun made the freckles on her nose more prominent and enticing. I watched as a few dark brown strands of her hair blew in the wind. The rest of it tied high on her head so she could fit in better with us. I watched the way she rubbed her lips against each other every few minutes, biting on her bottom one when she was done. How the boy clothes she was adamant about wearing fell off her thin, tiny frame, making her appear younger than she really was.

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