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“Okay, Uncle Mick but you have to have one of my icky girl kisses first!”
She kisses her uncle on the cheek, he thanks her as he sets her feet on the ground and she scampers off to her room without a care in the world.
“Emmers, what’s going on?” Mick asks.
I hand him the note and show him the text message without a saying a word.
“What the fuck, Em? When did this start?” he yells as his face turns red with anger.
“I found a note on my car on Monday, but Ireland was sick and I got so distracted with her and school that I forgot to tell you. Then when I left work today there was another note and then five minutes after I found this I got the text. I have no idea who would do this, Mick. The only thing I can think of is that I noticed some abuse on a student at work and I reported it, but the dad is in jail and there isn’t a mom around so I’m not sure if it’s his family or not.”
“I want you to write down the name of the kid you reported and his dads name if you have it. I want to make sure he really is in jail. Could there be anybody else? A pissed off student? A jealous co-worker? Anybody at all that you could have pissed off?” He says while I watch him try to calm himself by opening and closing his now clenched fists.
“No Mick, I can’t think of anybody else. It has to be somebody with my phone number…I just don’t get it.”
“Well, you are not going to work the rest of the week!” he orders.
“Yes, I am Mick!” I shout.
“No, you aren’t Em!” he shouts back.
“Mick, if I don’t go then they win and we’ll never catch them.”
“Shit! I’m supposed to leave Saturday morning for my hunting trip with the guys! I’m gonna call and cancel. There is no way I am leaving you two home alone,” he says pacing and pulling his phone out of his shorts pocket.
“You are not going to cancel your trip. I’ll have mom come over and we have Frank. It will be fine,” I try to convince him as much as myself.
“Oh, mom will protect you? That is supposed to make me feel better? Leave all three of you home alone together for a week? I don’t think so.”
“Mick, you have an alarm on the house. Even if it’s not monitored yet it will still make noise. Frank will bark if anybody gets near. I’ll have Cami and Alex hang out and you can leave me numbers to any of the guys you trust that I can call if I get scared and need them to stop by and check things out.”
“Anybody I would trust is going with me…wait…Kelly…I can have Kelly do drive-bys and check on you every day. You cool with that?”
Oh, big brother if you only knew….
“I’m cool with that, Mick.”
11
Jonathan
Standing at Mick’s front door I raise my hand to knock and my mind goes back to the frantic text I got from him a couple of days ago. It was telling me what some asshole is doing to Emily and if I would mind stopping by to check on her every day while he was off hunting. He also said that he had given her my number in case she needed anything. He would freak the fuck out if he knew that we already had each other’s numbers and that I was in love with his little sister. I don’t even want to think about that conversation.
When I read his message, the first thing I wanted to do was find whoever was doing this to her and kill the son of a bitch! There is nobody else I would want watching over her while Mick is gone. In fact, I don’t plan on letting her out of my sight.
I know Mick told me to come by in the evening to check on her, but here it is ten o’clock in the morning and I’m already here knocking on the door. Mick texted me to say thanks when the guys hit the road, and I ran to my truck to get here as fast as I could. The thought of her and Ireland home alone with somebody out there threatening her brings out a possessive side I never even knew I had.
The sight I see when Emily opens the door is probably the best thing I have seen in five years.
In front of me stands Emily, with an embarrassed shade of pink coloring her make-up free skin, her hair is up in a mess on top of her head, and her long legs are on display in her short little boxer shorts. But the best part? The best part is that on top of those boxer shorts is my old USMC t-shirt. And if my eyes do not deceive me there isn’t a bra on under that t-shirt.
She stole my t-shirt, has kept it all this time and still fucking wears it! There is a God!
“Hey,” she barley squeaks out.
“Hey, Em. Mick told me he wanted me to check in on you while he was gone, so here I am.” I’m trying my best to keep a straight face when all I want to do is give her shit about my shirt. It’s so hard to keep my mouth shut and the smile off of my face.
“He just left like ten minutes ago. I don’t need a babysitter but it’s nice of you to come by.”
