A/N: Hey everyone! Welcome to 'Tangled Souls' - this is my first multi-chapter fic for Japril and I'm very excited, and nervous, to share it with you all! Please leave a review and let me know what you think :)
Catherine Avery had never been so ropable in her life. She had been home barely an hour and their family name had already been dragged into another shitstorm, curtesy of her son.
"Jackson Avery!" Catherine yelled, stomping up the stairs and flinging his bedroom door open "Get your ass out of that bed right now!"
Jackson groans and pulls the covers over his head, "Ugh, can you keep your voice down? My head is killin' me."
"Do you have any idea what you've done?"
Jackson pulls the covers back enough to peek at his mother, "Seriously, I'm not in the mood. Can we do this whole concerned parent routine later."
Catherine rolled up the magazine in her hands before flinging it at her son.
"What the hell?" Jackson gripes, slowly sitting up. The magazine fell in his lap as he saw the headline.
'Jackson and Mara: a hoax from the start?'
"Look at that; gossip rags finally reporting something truthful."
Several pictures littered the magazine cover – the first was Jackson and Mara entering one of Boston's most elite clubs, Venu, the second was the two of them on opposite ends of the club, and the next were a series of photos showing Jackson making out with, and then being pulled to a dark hallway, a blonde woman that was very clearly not his Brunette, English 'girlfriend'.
Jackson turned through to page four, more explicit photos of him and the woman scattered across the three-page spread; accompanied with social media posts and press photos of he and Mara at various events over the last eight months.
Jackson flipped through the spread, humming as he read "Damn, I look good here." He pointed to one of the pictures and heard his mother scoff.
"You were supposed to be keeping a low profile, Jackson. Why on earth would you entertain another woman in such a public setting?"
"Hey, Mara did it too!" Jackson defends, holding the magazine up so Catherine can see the photo of Mara straddling a man's lap in the VIP section.
"Mara is not my concern, you are. You know what this meant for our family Jackson – Your reckless behaviour is costing our Foundation. I've spent the entire morning calling investors begging them not to pull their funding!" Catherine shakes her head, defeated, "This cannot keep happening, Jackson. There is an image to maintain as an Avery, as a part of the Foundation."
"I'm not a part of the Foundation." Jackson grumbles.
"You have a voting seat on the board. You own shares in the Foundation, and when you turn twenty-three, you'll have a controlling stake. You know this, you know what's expected of you! We can't keep having this same conversation!"
"I didn't ask for this!" Jackson snaps "I don't want it. I'm not going to sit around and help a bunch of old, rich people get richer. You can't make me run a company I don't want!"
Catherine takes a deep breath, pinching eyes pinched shut as she tries to keep her temper in control. Some days, Jackson was just like his father. And that made it more difficult for her to talk to him.
Her phone rang from where she had left it downstairs, and Catherine looks briefly at her son, "We're not finished with this conversation."
"Whatever." Jackson says, laying back down in bed and pulling the covers over his head once more.
"This is not acceptable, Cathy. His behaviour is out of control!" Harper rambles down the line, "And that girl. She was supposed to be helping us protect this family's image, not tarnish it further!"
Catherine rolls her eyes. She hated the nickname, always has, and Harper Avery was the only man allowed to get away with calling her that.
"He and Mara made a mistake. They were drunk, they weren't thinking clearly, Harper. I'm sure we can find a way to fix this."
"There's no spin for this. I've been getting calls and requests for comments, the media is calling us deceitful. No. He's broken my rules for the last time."
Catherine frowns, "Surely you're not…"
"If he's not willing to man up and accept the responsibility before him, fine. He gets none of it."
"Jackson is entitled to his inheritance, Harper."
The old man scoffs into the phone, "Well he should've read the fine print before deciding to disgrace my name like he has been. His inheritance is tied to a position within the Foundation. So far, he's honoured that. But if he refuses to take my place, I have no choice but to remove him from the Foundation entirely, pending a vote by the board – and after all that boy's done recently, do you think it'll be that hard to convince them to cut him lose?"
Catherine held her head in her hands, panic setting in as she tried to plead with her former father-in-law. Jackson's behaviour angered her to no end, but she didn't want to see her son lose everything.
"Harper, please. He's your grandson."
"And this is business."
"I know. I know," Catherine sighs "All I'm asking is you hold off before making any final decisions. He's got four months, let me see what I can do. Please."
The soft crackle of the phone line fills the silence, Catherine waiting anxiously until Harper finally speaks, "Four months, that's it. If there is even one tiny screw up, he's cut off. From the business, the family, all of it. Am I understood?"
"Crystal clear. Thank-"
Harper ended the call and Catherine gripped the phone tightly, taking a moment before she reluctantly called the one person, she knew would be able to help her. As the line rang, all Catherine could think was just how much Jackson was going to hate this plan.
It was nearing three o'clock by the time Jackson had woken again to the familiar shuffle of his maid, Gertrude, and his dog, Benson, sniffing at his covers. Opening his eyes, Jackson smiles at his dog's excited tail wagging in his face and he gives his old boy a belly rub, taken aback when he looks up to see three suitcases on his bedroom floor, filled with his belongings.
"Gertie?" Jackson looks up at the elderly lady, "What the hell is going on?"
"I'm not sure. Your mother just asked me to pack enough clothes for you."
Abandoning Benson, Jackson rushes down the stairs and barging into Catherine's office, "Why the fuck is Gertie packing my things!?"
Catherine leans back in her chair, calmly regarding her son, "Watch your language, Jackson."
"Tell me what the hell is going on then, Catherine."
"Sit down, please. Now."
Jackson sits down on the other side of the mahogany desk, arms crossed over his chest as he glares at his mother.
"Your grandfather is very disappointed in your behaviour lately. We thought you were turning a corner, starting to accept your future, but last night's antics have made it very clear that you still lack maturity and responsibility."
Jackson rolls his eyes in response. Like he gave a damn what that old fart thinks of him. His grandfather only tolerated him because they were blood. Because he was the only successor that Harper had left.
"He's decided that if you're not willing to take the opportunity presented to you seriously, then you'll be let out of your commitment." Catherine explains, Jackson smiling hopefully, "You'll be removed from the Foundation, and the family; completely cut off from everything this family provides, including your inheritance."
Jackson stands from the chair, looming over Catherine as he rants, "Are you serious? Over this? God, it's not like this is the worst thing I've ever done!"
"Yes, well, it seems the future CEO getting arrested wasn't a problem, but infidelity is bad a company's brand image." She scoffs, watching Jackson pace her office.
"This is ridiculous. I played by his stupid rules my entire life, and now that I don't want to do this one thing; he thinks can just take it all from me? I earned that money!"
"This one thing? Jackson, this is everything. Why are you surprised that your grandfather is going to these lengths – you're trying to deny everything that he's built."
"… This isn't fair, mom. He can't do this."
"He's not. Not yet at least." Catherine says, "I've promised him that you're going to turn things around. No more pictures in the paper, cheating scandals, parties, arrests."
"And just how do you think you're doing that?" Jackson snorts.
"I've spoken with the board, and your grandfather, and they all agree that it's best if you learn more about the Foundation. About the work we do, and why it's so important. And what exactly your tainting this family's name is harming."
"I already know about what we do."
"You know about it at a surface level. But for the next four months, you're going to be assisting some of the Foundation members in a rural community that we support. On Friday, you'll be flying to Moline to work with Nora and Robert."
"No fucking way!" Jackson exclaims, "I'm not working with him, and I'm sure as hell not living with him!"
"Jackson, I am doing everything that I can to make sure that you are looked after here, but sometimes you just make it so damn hard." Catherine snaps, "That little stunt you pulled last night – that was the last straw, do you understand that? You've pushed and pushed, fighting against what is quite frankly the inevitable, with no regard for what it means for your own future. You are my son, and I love you, but frankly I've had just about enough of this childish behaviour. You will be on that plane Friday morning, or so help me god I will kick you to the curb myself."
JACKSON
My mother and I have dinner and go to bed in silence. She's made it clear that there's nothing more to discuss, that I have no longer have any choice. And because I'm angry, I ignore her attempts at any further conversation; it's petulant and childish, unbecoming of an Avery, but I don't care anymore.
I can't believe she's shipping me off to my father and his new girlfriend. To live in nowhere, Ohio. A town so small it doesn't even have its own post office or ZIP code. I don't know what she thinks this will achieve, but a family reunion is not going to fix all our problems.
I haven't seen Robert in nearly two years. He used to come and visit every year, but he's lived and worked out of Moline since I was fourteen and started boarding school. He and mom lived separate lives during my school semester, only to act like we were a happy family when I came home. It was fucked up and when I found out the truth, I was devastated.
At first, seeing him during the holidays helped. Robert would come the week before thanksgiving and stayed through to the new year. It was our new normal, and I learned to adjust. Until he started dating Nora. They've been together four years now, and the first time he brought her to Boston to meet Mom and I was the last time I saw him. I've done everything in my power not to see Robert since. To pretend like he and his life in Moline, with a woman that isn't my mom, just doesn't exist. It was easy to do since I'd never visited him before. Come tomorrow, that's all going to change.
The door of my bedroom opens, and I see mom out of the corner of my eye. She shuffles towards me, the bed dipping as she sits by my feet, but I stay staring straight ahead at the skyline outside my window. It always made me feel at peace.
"I know you're upset with me," she says softly, "But I really think this is for the best, Jackson."
"To dump me with the father who left us?"
Mom exhales slowly, her hand resting atop the covers on my leg, "You know, when you were six-years-old, I asked you what you wanted to be when you grew up. You were in this big firefighter phase, it's all you wanted to talk about, so naturally I assumed that would be the answer."
I can hear the smile in her voice, and I turn my head to look at her, "You told me you wanted to help people, 'just like mommy and daddy do'. You were always the kindest person, so caring and thoughtful … I know that sweet boy is still in there somewhere, and I don't think being here in Boston is good for him anymore."
"Mom-"
"I miss my son, Jackson. I miss my sweet boy." Mom sighs, "If it's really what you want, then I will try to find a way to convince Harper to change his plans."
I sit up, staring back in shock, "Seriously?"
She nods, and I smile, "I know you don't agree with it, but I really think you need this; you need to talk with him, forgive him. Find a way to move forward. But you have to give this a real chance, Jackson. I promised your grandfather that you wouldn't cause trouble for the Foundation, and I need you to uphold that promise."
As much as I want to tell her that I'll do it, I know I can't. I'm not looking forward to seeing Robert in the slightest, and I can't guarantee that I'll be on my best behaviour for him or Nora.
"I-I'll try." I manage.
It seems to be enough, because mom leans forward and kisses my cheek, mumbling, "that's all I ask" before walking back to her own bedroom.
Ohio is just as cold as Boston, but thankfully not as windy. I scan the airport in Swanton, looking for Robert and find a woman with my name on a flimsy piece of cardboard. She's all smiles, looking at each person politely as they pass her, waiting for me. She's dressed in a grey shirt with a red flannel unbuttoned over the top, dark blue jeans and brown boots. Her fiery red hair is in pigtails, cascading down her shoulders on either side with a cloth tied around the top of her head holding down the rest of her hair.
"Jackson!" her voice is excited and sweet.
"Nora?"
She looks at me confused, and I know I've screwed up. It's been two years since I met Robert's girlfriend. I barely remember what she looked like, other than her being a brunette; but that's not a hard feature to change.
"Ew, no!" Her eyes widen as she looks up at me, "I mean, not that your Dad isn't attractive or something, he is- I mean I'm not interested in him or anything, I- did he not tell you who was coming to pick you up?"
"Obviously not."
Her creamy cheeks flush a delightful pink, and I smirk, enjoying how flustered she's suddenly become.
"Oh, well, he sent me. I, uh, I'm April. Kepner. April Kepner." she shakes my hand and then reaches to grab one of my suitcases, "Here, let me help you."
She grabs the biggest, heaviest one and starts to lug it behind her out the main entrance of the airport before I can say another word. I follow her out to an old red pickup truck, the colour evidently faded from the sun. She moves quicker than I would have thought, and by the time I reach her she's about to fall over from the weight of my bag that she's trying to lift into the bed of the truck.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, I got it." I chuckle, taking the suitcase and storing it and the other two pieces of luggage easily.
"Thanks." April smiles, "So, Moline's about an hour's drive usually but I know a couple backroads so hopefully we can cut it down to forty minutes."
"Sounds good." I say, hopping in the passenger seat.
I'm glad I've already belted up before the car starts to move. April drives like a bat out of hell – confident, if not slightly reckless. We cruise about ten miles over the speed limit down the desolate roads, April bopping her head to every song that plays on the radio.
I sit and watch her in silence, really taking her now. She's got one hand on the steering wheel, and her other arm is resting on the open window, her hand cradling her chin and cheek as she drives. Her hair blows in her face every once in a while, the low-laying sun causing streaks of gold to emerge as the light bounces off her red waves. The colour compliments that of her eyes, green with a softness to them that I can't quite figure out; but something about it makes me feel safe. Her body is toned; the muscles of her arms are quite defined; I can only assume her legs are the same, but I can't tell under the loose material of her jeans. She's a bit hunched in the driver's seat, and I can see the slope of her breasts as she sits comfortably.
I've been with a few women in the last few years, more than most guys my age; my friends always likened them to V.S angels, and if that's the case then April Kepner would be the Antichrist by their standards. But the devil is in the details, and I'd be lying if I said the simplicity in her beauty wasn't alluring in its own right. I don't think she even realised how attractive she was.
We approach our first traffic light in a while, and it seems to take her by surprise as she slams the brakes at the last minute, breaking my attentive gaze and lurching us both forward in our seats.
"Damn, I thought I was gonna make it." she mumbles.
I scrunch my face as I look at her, "So, uh, how long have you had your licence?"
"I only just got my licence. But I've been driving the tractor on our farm since I was eight." The light turns green and she takes off.
"Wait, how old are you?" She looks young, but I didn't think she was that young. Shit.
"I turned twenty-three in April. You?" She says and my relief is instant.
"twenty-two in feb." I say and she smiles.
"Aww, still a bitty-baby."
"Shut up," I grumble, fighting a grin, "So, uh, how do you know Robert?"
She frowns, I think because I called him Robert, but doesn't push, "Their property borders the back of ours. I've known him for as long as he's been here. He's a really cool guy."
"I'll take your word for it."
April glances over at me briefly, "You really don't like your dad, do you?"
I shrug and look out the window at the tall grass, "Don't really know him well enough, I guess. And now thanks to him and my mom, I'm stuck here for four months without my friends or even my dog. I've got no one."
"Not true." She says, smiling at me, "You've got me. Consider me your friend."