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IVY

Tiny droplets of water slid down my cheeks causing my eyes to slowly open. I instantly looked up at the clouds that swarmed the sky like an angry tyrant and realised I had fallen asleep. I pushed myself up with my palms so I was in a sitting position, ignoring the way the muddy grass squelched and stuck to my hand.

I moved the stray hair out of my face that had clung to my skin and as I slowly regained consciousness the past twenty-four hours hit me like machine gunfire. I put a hand to my heart in an attempt to conceal the hurt that flooded through me.

Just because your dad is fucked up doesn't mean mine is.

How casually those words had slipped out of the one person I thought I could trust, who had my heart and promised to keep me safe. My cynical side wanted to laugh in my face and tell me they were right all along. I shouldn't have let my guard down, this is what happens when you do.

How I was so wrong about him.

All I wanted to do was save him. I at least owed him that but you can't save someone who doesn't want to be saved.

His dad was a monster I knew that for sure. All red signs pointed towards him but Brody couldn't see it or maybe he didn't want to see it.

It didn't bear thinking about. He'd made it very clear what he thought and I didn't need that type of negativity in my life.

Especially when it concerned him.

I looked at him in question and a sad smile formed on my lips.

Here lays Ross Jones a beloved son, father and husband. Taken too soon from this world. At least now he rests with the angels.

Every memory played like a song in my head, repeating itself over and over again. I could almost hear his voice calling me down for breakfast. He never failed to make pancakes with whipped cream and syrup. My mom would threat saying that he'd induce me into a hyperglycaemic attack but we'd just laugh at her with cream on our chins.

He drove me to school without fail, singing Taylor Swifts songs at the top of our lungs until I went to high school and decided I didn't want my dad to drive me to school anymore. I was too cool for that or so I thought I was.

I wished I never asked him to stop. I lost a big part of myself that day, and I've been searching for that part ever since. I wanted it as if my life depended on it, but it was gone, vanished into thin air.  I'd never get it back.

I would give anything to see his face at the end of the school gate or wake up to the smell of pancakes wafting down the corridor. All my memories of my father were my fondest. I was always a daddy's girl.

The grief I felt for the loss of my dad sneaked up on me quietly and took me under its arms in an instant. I missed him. I missed him more now than ever.

I felt another drop of water slide down my cheeks and realised it wasn't from the rain.

In times like these when my heart was broken, I needed my dad to hold me in his arms and tell me it was okay. That boys come and go but he'd always be there forever.

"Will I be okay?" I whispered against the breeze. I squeezed my eyes shut and listened for a reply, anything that told me he was here.

The silence answered for me.

It was the disappointment that met me first then the deep gut-wrenching hurt that made me hold my stomach.

Before I knew it I was walking through the rain to find my way home not caring about the water that quickly soaked me to the skin. I didn't know how long it had taken me to find the familiar sign on my street. I knew my legs ached and my heart was beating rapidly against my chest. My hair was drenched, my clothes cling to my skin and my body shook rapidly from the cold.

I went to cross the road when a car pulled out in front of me blocking my path.

My stomach twisted.

As if stuck underwater, everything was slow and warbled. The passenger side mirror rolled down to reveal the one person I did not want to see.

My insides felt as raw as the cold wind blowing right through my skin as I stared right at him.

His eyes were sunken and his lips were quivering against his face. He went to say something but it was as if the words couldn't form. He looked down at his lap, his shoulders hunched together like he was trying to disappear inside himself.

I was not going to speak first.

I had to hold my hands tightly against my sides and I could feel my nails digging into my skin to stop myself from cursing and screaming to the high heavens.

Why couldn't he just leave me alone?

Had he not done enough damage to my heart?  Must he stomp on the remains?

The silence that enveloped us was poisonous in its nothingness, it hung in the air for a suspended moment before falling to the ground in shatters when he spoke.

"I'm sorry," He whispered, his voice raspy and broken.

I expected myself to crumble or dissolve into tears but I was surprised when I didn't. I felt nothing, his sorry was meaningless. 

With the emptiness in my heart, the numbness pounding my brain and the salty tears that flowed I turned on my heel without a mere glance and carried on walking down the path. I thought I heard him say something else, but I didn't care.

All the pain I felt pushed me forward, I heard the sound of his tires screeching against the road, his high beams blinding me and I knew he'd had driven away with my broken heart.

And I'd walked away with his.

BRODY

I'm fucked up.

I mean really fucked up.

I was driving as fast as I could with the trees and houses becoming a blur as I passed. I needed to get away from her. If I slowed down I'd have turned around and driven back to her and we all knew that wasn't the best of ideas.

I'd hurt the one person I loved.

How could we ever recover from that?

Her face-  I couldn't get it out of my mind. The sheer nothingness that took hold of her once warm and loving expression, the way she looked right through me, If I'm honest that killed me inside.  That flame she once held for me turned into ashes blown away in the wind and it was all my fault.

We'd never had an easy ride. Anyone could tell you that but when we were together it was different. She made me want to be better, do better. I'd follow that girl around the world if she asked. I fucking loved her and I'd destroyed the one thing good for me.

I was pissed off.

The one thing I should have never said, or even thought and I went and said it.

Did I not have a fucking filter?

It had been going so well. I had finally got what I wanted after so long of yearning and waiting. I had her and she had me.

What did I do?

I go and fuck it up.

Just like I fuck up everything else that's good in my life and I'll tell you it isn't a lot. There were many things in my life that I wanted to give up, Ivy wasn't one of them and I'm was starting to think I had no choice.

The last words I said to her went over and over again in my head, haunting me, taunting me, replaying like a jammed CD player.

Just because your dad is fucked up doesn't mean mine is.

I didn't mean it. I never meant half the nasty bull shit that I say. I just couldn't comprehend that my dad could possibly be the cause of my mom's death. I didn't want to believe it but the facts were there on paper or written in a stupid news article.

My dad was living a double life.

Did my mom know? Is that why he killed her because she found out?

It didn't bear thinking about.

The life I thought I had come to shatters around me and I was left trying to piece together the shards. I wasn't even sure what was real and what wasn't anymore. I'd been living a lie all along.

I let out a groan in frustration and slam my hands against the steering wheel. I wanted to yell or hit something or have a drink. It had been a while since I swallowed my pain in a bottle of brown liquid. I shook my head rapidly, it made me feel dizzy. The drink wasn't the answer to this.

As I neared home, I knew what I had to do. I needed answers and I needed them now. I could feel nausea swirl in my stomach and my head swam with a million thoughts. I sucked in a deep breath and told myself to calm down, I was Brody fucking Jackson for god sake.

It all happened in a blur, one minute I pull up to the drive, the next I was storming towards the house. The anger burned me on the way out and burned anyone on the receiving end. I didn't even bother to greet my stepmom at the door, the bitch was probably part of it. She jumped out of my path, dazed and confused but I didn't care right now.

I met my dad in the hallway he had a drink in hand as per usual and I didn't even bother with pleasantries. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, unlocked the screen and shoved it in his face.

At first, his brows furrowed as he looked at me, then he looked down at the screen and I saw his eyes widen in realisation. An emotion I couldn't detect flashed across his features and I thought I might have imagined it. His expression hardened and he pushed the phone out of his face.

"What is this nonsense?" He said through thin lips.

That was the breaking point of my patience. I was instantly blinded by a serving of rage that tasted bitter and surprisingly satisfying, "Nonsense? You tell me, dad?"

He let out an aggravated sigh, "Brody, I haven't got time for this. I'm prepping for a big meeting today, can this wait?"

Every word I said was clipped, punching into the air, "I think you telling me how you murdered both your ex-wives can't wait,"

It happened so fast I didn't get time to react.

My dad tossed his glass across the room, the liquid staining the carpet and the glass causing an almighty crashing sound as it hit the wall. He drew his fist back before plunging it into my jaw. The connection was fast, strong and caused me to stumble back into the wall. My back smashing against the plaster caused one of the picture frames to crash to the ground, glass scattering across the floor.

It was a family photo.

How ironic.

I heard my stepmom let out a wail and through my dazed and blurred vision, I could see her crying against her hands as she stood in the doorway. I shook my head, trying to regain my sight and wiped at the blood at the corner of my mouth with the back of my sleeve.

My dad watched me, his eyes narrowed and his mouth set. If he had any remorse for hitting his only child he didn't show it.

"You better watch your fucking mouth boy," He jabbed the air with a pointed finger with each utterance, "You are an ungrateful little brat, you come into my house and accuse me of such a horrendous act, who the hell do you think you are?"

"All breadcrumbs lead to you dad," I laugh bitterly as I spit blood onto the floor, "You are a man of many secrets, who knew?"

"I loved your mother," He growled and I thought he was going to hit me again. Maybe I deserved it.

"Like you loved Fiona?" I barked, "Or like you love her?" I gestured towards my stepmom who looked as if she was going to throw up, "I bet he'll dispose of you too when he gets bored,"

"Brody shut your mouth if you know what's good for you," He bristled, "I don't know what has gotten into you recently, but ever since you've been with that girl-"

"Do not mention her name, do not fucking mention her name," I threatened my temper blowing hot as I stepped closer so our noses were almost touching. I was a foot taller than my dad so in this instance, I towered over him, "Someone paid to kill mom and I'm starting to think it was closer to home,"

"You think it was me?" He laughed humourlessly taking a step back so the gap grew. He laughed aggressively, almost uncomfortable to watch before speaking, "Oh how wonderful your imagination is. I didn't think you had one,"

"I must get it from you," I said sarcastically.

"Do not disrespect me Brody, you are in my home and in front of my wife,"

"Your third wife, or is she your forth? How many more secret wives have you had dad?"

He lifted his fist from his sides as if he were going to hit me again but thought better than it.

"I do not need to disclose my personal life with anyone, especially with my own child,"

"She trusted you, she loved you and you did this to her, how could you?"

"I did not kill your mother," He exploded, his face red and his breaths ragged.

There was a moment of silence and his words hung in the air.

I watched as he walked over to the drinks cabinet, pulling a whisky bottle out with shaky hands and pouring himself a glass. He chugged the contents in a matter of seconds and let out a breath, leaning against the cabinet.

"I did not kill your mother," He repeated silently, almost to himself.

"If it was you who did it, dad, I will kill you,"  My words had an air of finality to them, which even took him by surprise. He looked at me, his eyes void of any emotion. He leant closer, perfectly composed and uttered just three words.

"Get out now,"

He didn't have to ask me twice.

I hope you all have a great Christmas and new year!

Thank you for reading!

Love d,

xxx