Ch7 - Pain-in-the-ass brother

Would he be a good father?

It was a question Emily had asked herself just days ago—and now, she had her answer.

No. Aaron would never be a good father.

His need for control was too strong. All it took was one threat of divorce, and before she could even make another move, he’d already tightened his grip on her, like it was effortless.

Convincing her to quit her job had been the first step. Emotionally and practically, she lost her independence, leaving her with no choice but to rely on him.

Did she regret it?

Regret letting herself get too comfortable, letting her wings get clipped?

Yes.

But none of those feelings mattered anymore.

She and Aaron had, once again, ended things on a sour note.

On the way home, she was about to call her younger brother Francie when another call came in—this one from the police. They asked her to come down to the station.

As soon as the driver was informed, he immediately called Aaron for approval.

After a quick summary of the situation, Aaron gave the green light. He didn’t come along himself this time—clearly, the two hours he’d just spent at the hospital were already more than he was willing to give.

The reason for her visit was—unsurprisingly—Francie again. He’d gotten himself into trouble, and for once, Emily was glad Aaron wasn’t with her.

The driver waited outside. One bodyguard followed her in but kept a two-step distance behind. Emily walked up to the front desk.

“I’m Francie Caulden’ sister. He was brought in this afternoon for a traffic violation…”

The officer checked her ID and handed it back. “He’s giving his statement right now. Please have a seat over there.”

Emily walked over to the long bench like she’d done it a dozen times before. This wasn’t her first visit.

The last time, it was because Francie had gotten into a bar fight—punched someone over a dumb argument.

Before that, he’d trespassed onto a construction site to film a video for social media, violating public safety regulations.

Too many incidents to count.

He was seven years younger than her—already twenty—but still impulsive, reckless, and immature. Zero sense of responsibility.

After a while, another officer brought him out. Francie looked physically fine—no visible injuries—but his head was down and his whole vibe screamed defeated.

The officer turned to Emily. “He was speeding well above the limit and ran a red light. Luckily, no one got hurt, but it was extremely dangerous. Also, the motorcycle shows signs of illegal modifications. It’ll be confiscated.”

And just like that, Emily knew why he looked so miserable.

Francie feared nothing and no one—but that motorcycle? That was his baby. Losing it crushed him.

After explaining the fine, the temporary license suspension, and the requirement to attend a traffic safety course, the officer finally let them go.

The second they stepped out of the station, Francie flipped a middle finger toward the building and muttered angrily, “I’ll take the damn fine, whatever—but why the hell are they taking my motorcycle?”

Emily shot him a cold look. “NOT enough punishment for you? Want to head back in for another round?”

She glanced back at the bodyguard, who was now standing farther away—far enough to give them some space. At that distance, he probably couldn’t hear what they were saying.

“WHAT? They’re being dramatic. I was just testing out a corner! Nothing even happened!” Francie snapped, totally unapologetic.

“That’s enough. Are you only gonna regret it once someone gets hurt?” Emily’s head was pounding. “Have you even thought about your family? About Grandma? She’s not young anymore—she can’t take any more stress.”

Francie mumbled under his breath, “Well, if you don’t tell her and I don’t tell her, how would she even know?”

“You—” Emily’s anger flared. “You’re twenty, for God’s sake. Can you grow up already? You’re acting out because you’ve got too much time on your hands. No job, no goals—of course you’re making trouble.”

Francie scoffed. “And you’ve got room to talk? You DON’T HAVE a job either.”

That was like tossing gasoline into fire. Emily’s tone dropped. “What did you just say?”

Francie realized he’d gone too far. He bit down on his tongue and looked away, refusing to meet the glare she was giving him.

“Do I get into this kind of shit every few weeks like you? You in and out of police stations like it’s your second home?”

He knew he was in the wrong and kept quiet.

Emily had always been more than just a sister to him. Their parents died when they were young, and their grandmother had to work three jobs just to support them. Emily, being older by several years, had practically raised him.

Francie let out a slow breath, figuring like always, he’d just ride out her lecture and this whole thing would blow over.

“You’re not a kid anymore,” Emily said, voice softer but tired. “At the very least, visit Grandma more. She misses you.”

He leaned against a tree trunk nearby, noting how this time her tone felt different—like she was actually trying to reach him.

But just as she started saying, “You can’t depend on other people forever,” he sprang upright and grinned playfully, “Nope. I plan to live off my brother-in-law forever.”

Emily’s face instantly flushed with anger. 

“I literally just said you need to rely on yourself. Why the hell would you say something like that? You think your brother-in-law and I are gonna be together forever? What’re you gonna do then?”

Francie chuckled. “That’s not even gonna happen. Aaron’s crazy about you. Unless you’re bored out of your mind or looking for drama, there’s no way you two are splitting up.”

He said it like it was some kind of joke.

Emily took a deep breath.

Aaron’s carefully crafted image had fooled everyone—friends, family… including herself. Three whole years. And she fell for every bit of it.

“What if he’s got another woman?” she asked, looking him straight in the eye.

Francie’s expression shifted. After a beat, he leaned back against the tree again. “Come on, you know Aaron’s not like that. He’s always been loyal.”

When she didn’t respond, he started getting nervous. “WAIT—don’t scare me. You’re just making that up, right? That’s not real, is it?”

“Whether it’s real or not,” Emily said quietly, “what I want you to understand is this: don’t be like me. Don’t put everything you have into someone else’s hands.”

Francie’s expression twisted, clearly not taking her words to heart.

Instead, he mumbled, “Well… if you guys are really having problems, what’s gonna happen to the bar?”

Emily froze. “What bar?”

She grabbed his sleeve. “Francie, what are you talking about?”

He blurted out, “Aaron said he’d help me. Said he’d back me and my friends to open a bar.”

What?!

“YOU—” Emily grabbed his cloth tightly, furious. “Open a bar? Have you completely forgotten the last time you got into a fight? The only reason you didn’t end up in jail is because we spent months with lawyers to clean up your mess. That was just a few weeks ago! And now this?!”

Francie yanked her hand off him. “You’re the one who told me to get a job! Now I try to start a business and you’re pissed about that too?!”