Page 15 of Ajax

Tears prick my eyes. This is what my family should be like. How did we fall apart so badly with Mum gone? I miss her so much, and I know the others do too. But there’s no conversation—no connection without her.

Is it bad that this small text exchange gives me hope?

There’s something—or someone out there for me.

The fact that it’s Ajax makes it all the more sweeter.

EIGHT

IVY

“Ivy. Where’s dinner?”Tyler whines.

I stare at the wall, ignoring him. Ajax is right. I deserve more than this. My mother died. My father mourned. But it’s time for him to get his act together and be the parent in this house.

That includes pulling my brother into line.

I’m not working for him. I live here. I pay rent, which is more than Tyler does.

But no more.

“Ivy?”

“Everything’s in the fridge and the cupboards. I’m sure you’ll work out what you want. I’ve got work.”

It’s Friday, and it’s taken all week to get my car back. As old as she is, she’s always been reliable, but it bothers me that one day she’ll die for good and I won’t have a replacement. I’ve got enough saved for another second-hand car, but that’s myescape townfund.

“You’re not cooking dinner?”

“No. You’re old enough to fend for yourself.”

“Dad. Ivy’s not making dinner.”

I roll my eyes as Dad appears in the doorway.

“What’s this?”

“I’m going to work. Make toasted sandwiches if you want. There’s plenty of bread and cheese. I’m out.”

I don’t hang around to hear any more arguments. Grabbing my bag, I head to the door and go straight to my car, driving off before anyone can complain.

I’m rapidly reaching breaking point, and I need a real break.

Sometimes I dream of a holiday somewhere on a beach with nothing to do, but I know at this point it’s just a dream.

Once I get to work, I keep busy. I’m not sure the bar has ever been so shiny and polished. But it’s to take my mind off things—the bar’s usually clean and tidy.

“Are you okay?”

I blink rapidly.

Ajax sits at the bar, his head tilted, a small smile on his lips.

“I’m fine, thanks. The usual?”

His eyebrows rise, but he says nothing else—just studies me with those deep blue eyes of his. I’m ashamed of how my family treat me, and Ajax had a front row seat earlier this week.

“Yes, please.”

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