Page 59 of Every Single Wildflower
“I don’t disagree, but we have protocol.” Sam’s eyes drift over to my aunt who’s standing next to my mom before he moves them back to my dad. “I’ll keep you as updated as I can. It could take days, or weeks. I’m not sure. As of now, I would hold off on any insurance claims.”
Dad nods, and my mom leans down to drop a comforting kiss on his head. “Thank you, Sam.”
Sam pushes to his feet. “Of course.” He glances at my aunt. “Penny.”
She motions to the door. “I’ll see you out.”
Once she leaves, I meet Dakota’s worried eyes from across the room before I face my dad. “What are we gonna do?”
His intense demeanor shows me exactly what we are going to do.
Get justice.
Chapter forty-four
Maddox
“Two Millers.” I lift my hand as I call out the order to Shorty.
Brady finally dragged me out forbeers,but it’s hard to be relaxed when I haven’t seen Ivy since this morning. The news, along with everything happening between us has my nerves shot to shit. We take the two barstools at the end of the bar at the Mayson Jar. It’s quiet tonight. Sundays usually are and there’s only a few other people mingling around.
“Here you go boys.” Shorty drops the bottles down, before he’s wiping down the rest of the bar.
“So, how’s Ivy?” Brady asks before I even take my first drink.
“She’s ok,” I say before I take a gulp of the brew.
“I didn’t know she was staying with you,” he adds, and my instinct is to react withwhat the fuck does it matter to you?
But I just shrug. “With the big house gone, Coop didn’t have room. Her and Ryder are working on things so Cooper put her in Houston’s old room.”
He nods, taking his own drink. “I can’t believe someone did it intentionally.” He shakes his head. “That’s fucked up.”
“Yeah.” I use my thumb nail, peeling back the label as I try to figure out what to say.
We haven’t made small talk in years, and I never know how to navigate a conversation with him. In the past it always came back to dad, which then led to that night, which then led to yelling and punches thrown. So, I just wait for his que.
“Do you think Ivy would ever forgive me?” He asks.
The question startles me and gives me a feeling that has my chest tightening. "You’d have to ask her.”
He chuckles lightly. “I thought about it.” He takes a drink. “I know I fucked up. I know I wasn’t there for her.”
Yeah, I was.
“But she was there for me,” he continues. “When dad…” he trails off.
Dad and Ivy.
I would rather eat fresh cow shit than discuss either of these topics with him.
“I don’t know. I’m older now. Trying to get my life together. Ivy is the kind of woman that would make a good wife. She’d be loyal. Be a good mom."
I listen to him rattle off things about Ivy. Not a single one of those has to do with his feelings for her. It has to do with what she could be to him. Not once has he said that he missed her. Loved her.Longed for her.
“You think she’d give me another chance?” He questions next.
Considering she was climbing out of my bed this morning, probably not.
