63. Ian
It came out of nowhere.Thunder. Explosions. Rocks. Rocks?
The pain was insufferable.
Icy water trickled over my face.
The ice storm. Had I dreamt up my daughter’s birth?
No way. Her sweet face and my broken heart were far too real.
So was the fucking pain in my head. And the cotton balls in my mouth.
Metal crashed against metal. My eyeballs were going to explode.
“Angggh…”
Sharp sounds assaulted my eardrums. Metal and breaking glass.
Are we under attack?Hard, round objects bounced against my head and icy water hit my face. My arms wrapped around my head, and I screamed. Fuck me, the pain. I shushed myself.
Another crash of metal near my head. I rolled to get away, but there was nowhere to go. My head hit something hard, and I crash-landed onto the floor with a plastic bucket over my head. I blinked my eyes open, but it was dark, and it smelled like disinfectant. I wanted to play dead, but I was going to puke.
I ripped the bucket off my head and pushed myself up.
My mother, my father, and Maylene glared down at me. Why they were looking at me like that, I couldn’t imagine. I was the injured party here, but before I could defend myself, I grabbed the bucket and emptied my stomach. I couldn’t even remember what had been in there, but given the way I was feeling, whatever it was had been purchased at Roosters.
After what seemed like days and I’d deposited every last ounce of fluid that had been in my body into the bucket, my mother handed me a wet towel while my father carted off the contents of my stomach. It was then that I realized I was sitting on a plastic tarp that had been spread out over the sofa and the floor. Guess they’d been prepared to make me suffer.
Squinting up at my mother and my sister, I muttered, “What the fuck is wrong with you people?”
“Don’t you use that type of language in my house, Ian Patrick Donohue,” she scolded. “You have no right to be angry right now.”
The act of raising my eyes to look up at her was as painful as if they’d been dragged up by meat hooks. “Stop yelling,” I begged.
“She’s not yelling,” Maylene answered, punctuating her declaration by banging two pots together right over my fucking head. “This is yellin’,” she hollered.
“Angggghhhh… Stop!” I pulled up my knees and dropped my head, covering it with my arms to block out the light, the noise, and hopefully, my evil family.
“What’d I miss?” my father asked. “Did you find out why he got as drunk as a fucking skunk last night?”
“How come he’s allowed to curse?” I said to my kneecaps.
“Because he’s telling the truth,” Maylene answered. “And if you don’t tell us this minute why irresponsible playboy Ian is back, I’m going to bang these pots so hard and for so long, your hearing won’t come back until February.”
As painful as it was, I glared up at her, but before I could speak, my empty but still-queasy stomach roiled. Playboy? I couldn’t remember anything that happened last night past my first few drinks at Roosters, courtesy of Daryl Todd, who owned the Ashwood landmark, and a bunch of regulars who I’d grown up with. There were a few women there, some I’d gone to school with, and one girl, Dahlia or Daisy-something, who’d been flirting with me hard.
Fuck me. If I slept with some random last night I would saw my own dick off.
“Please don’t tell me…” I couldn’t even say it; it was too unforgivable.
“Don’t tell you what?” Maylene hollered. “That you’re a jackass? You already know that.”
“Maylene, honey,” my father cajoled, in a blessedly lower voice. “Leave your brother be. It looks like he’s already payin’ for his sins.”
My sins?I lowered my head again and curled into myself. How could I do that to Madison and my baby girl? Even if Madison had been determined to leave me. I still loved her. That didn’t change overnight.
“Ian, son, get yourself up and go take a shower. Your ma will whip you up a nice greasy breakfast to help ease that hangover of yours, and then I’ll take you over to Roosters to get your car so you can get yourself on home.”
“Yeah,” Maylene added. “But don’t you rush now. Hopefully, Finn made a nice mess for you to clean up while you were gone.”
I groaned. How the hell had I forgotten that I had a dog?
“Maylene,” my mother warned. “Quit bein’ ugly.”
“Tell her, Ma.”
“You hush and go take a shower,” my mother snapped. “You smell like the business end of a donkey. Your father will get you some clean clothes.”
My parents bustled off as I pushed myself up slowly, nearly falling back down again when I stepped on a bunch of marbles and nearly fell. Guess that’s what I’d been pelted with. I’d have bet anything that was Maylene’s doing. As I rose, I noticed a few cookie sheets near where my head had laid, filled with nuts, bolts, and screws. That explained the rapid-fire sound of metal that had me thinking we were under attack.
“Ya know, you used to be my favorite sister,” I grumbled.
“I’m still your favorite sister.”
I glared. “How’d you figure?”
“Because I’m the one who talked Bridget out of coming. She wouldn’t have gone so easy on you.”
“Easy? Is that what you call banging pots over my head, pelting me with marbles, and throwing ice water in my face?”
“I just banged the pots and dumped the marbles. Daddy dropped the nuts and bolts, and Ma tossed the ice water in your face.”
Guess the family that tortures together, stays together.
It was late afternoon by the time I’d cleaned myself up, downed a handful of acetaminophen, and ate the bacon, eggs, and hash browns Ma had whipped up, along with a gallon of coffee.
I was in no hurry to get back to the house. When I returned to the hospital yesterday I’d left Finn out of the crate since he’d been in it for so long while Madison had the baby and we’d gone to the hospital. I didn’t have the heart to lock him up again, which meant I’d have one hell of a mess to clean. And while I wasn’t looking forward to dealing with that, what I was really avoiding was walking into an empty house.
Madison would be long gone by now. She’d left a few text messages and voicemails on my phone, but I couldn’t bring myself to listen. I couldn’t bring myself to hear her say goodbye or to tell me when I’d be able to see my baby again.
I stared out the window and pressed my fist against my mouth, holding back a sob and not wanting my dad to know what I was feeling. Had they asked? Yeah, of course. They were my family and they cared about me, despite torturing me. I just told them I didn’t want to talk about it and miraculously, they’d let it go.
Maybe they were thinking the worst of me, but right now, I didn’t care.
The parking lot at Roosters was already half full. Beat-up pickups lined the front of the lot closest to the door. Farmers’ days ended early this time of year. A couple cold ones, then home for supper, some television with the family, then early to bed to start it all over again tomorrow. It was hard work, but it was simple. Easy.
No billionaires getting in the way or calling the shots.
“You gonna be okay, son?”
I schooled my features before looking at my dad. “Yep. I’m good.” I scrubbed my hand over my face. “Just need to get on home.” I popped open the door. “Thanks for the ride. Sorry to have disappointed you.”
His hand shot out across the cab and grabbed my arm before I could climb out of the truck. “Don’t you dare say that. There’s been many a day I’ve been ready to ring your neck, but disappoint me? Never. You’re a good man, Ian. And not a day has gone by that I haven’t been proud of you. Did I sometimes wish you made better choices? Hell, yeah. But you’ve never disappointed me.” He pulled me in for a hug, and I let him. It didn’t matter how old I’d get, he and my ma could hug me whenever they wanted. Especially after trying to wrap my head around the relationship Madison had with her parents.
It might be cliché, but money sure as hell didn’t buy happiness.
My dad slapped me on the back. “Now go along and fix whatever it is needs fixin’.”
I chewed on my lip and nodded. “Yessir.”
I waved as he pulled away, then I climbed into my SUV, my heart stuttering when I saw Quinn’s car seat that I’d taken over to the sheriff’s office yesterday to have them make sure I’d installed it properly. I pressed the ignition button and waited for the car to warm up. My eyes filled and my head still throbbed. There was a part of me that wanted to say, “fuck it” and head back into Roosters, but despite what my dad had just said, I didn’t want to disappoint him or my ma. Maylene could still fuck right off—for now.
The sun was setting as I navigated my driveway and pulled up to the small farmhouse. It was gonna hurt like hell to step inside, but I needed to take care of Finn. Then I’d pack my shit and all the stuff Madison got at the baby shower, and in the morning, I’d head back to Philly.
She might not want to be in a relationship with me, but there was no way she’d keep me away from my daughter. Not that I knew where to find her—although I could just drive to Gladwyne and look for the biggest estate there. Liane would let me know where to find her. If not, I’d make Beau fire her ass.
I climbed up onto the porch, put the key in the lock, and stepped inside.
The kitchen lights were on, and something simmered on the stove. The table was set with two plates and the candle in the center was lit. Finn was curled up, sound asleep in front of the fireplace, and the house smelled like—spaghetti sauce?
“What the?—”
Madison stepped out of the bedroom, looked up, and burst into tears.