Wyatt's POV
Anger.
Anger pulsed through my veins as I repeatedly punched the ass hole that hurt my little sister. He tried to throw himself at her.
Without my consent, without my other brothers consenting, he was nothing. I wanted to kill the bastard, right then and there. I could if I wanted to.
Easy.
A punch there, a punch there, and then snap the neck.
But unfortunately, I couldn't do that. I would loose my job and go to jail.
My family needs me.
He's the reason she had another panic attack.
I hated when she had those.
It reminded me of harder times.
Five years ago... (Wyatt's POV)
"It's okay baby girl, calm down," I said, trying to calm down my sister. She was having her third panic attack of the day and all I wanted to do was sleep. It was getting late and I had a long day of school.
The cause of her panic attacks? The idiots that made us. Our "parents".
Emerson wasn't used to having her parents gone all the time. They had recently "taken a vacation" but something told my brothers and I they wouldn't be back for awhile. They left us.
Unfortunately, Em was catching on to the known fact throughout the house.
My parents left two months ago.
A nine year old needs their parents.
You're parents know you better than anybody. They calm you down when you're scared, take care of you when you're sick, keep you safe.
Our parents? They stopped doing that a long time ago.
Blake and I had to start learning how to take care of the younger kids, mainly Brady and Emme. It was tough, I'm barley an adult. I just turned 18.
As I sat in the kitchen with my crying sister, I heard the front door open.
Emerson started getting panic attacks as a result of our parents leaving, and we didn't know how to deal with it. No matter what we did, she wouldn't calm down.
The only person that knew how to calm her down?
Blake.
Blake's home.
Thank God.
As soon as he saw Em he ran into the kitchen, worry on his face.
Blake's POV
Not again.
Another fucking panic attack.
My bastard parents caused my poor sister to have this and now I had to deal with it.
I'm 21 years old. Why am I parenting my siblings? I'm supposed to be in bars, drinking and partying.
Wyatt is a senior in high school. I have to discipline him for coming home at 3am from parties on a school night.
Hayden is 15. Why am I the one teaching him to drive?
Why do I have to help my 13 year old brother Josh do his math homework?
Wesley is 12. He's going through a rebellious stage. Why am I dealing with it?
And Brady. He's ten. Ten years old. He's still a kid.
This isn't my responsibility.
My good for nothing parents dropped their six kids to go "travel the world" or some shit lie they made up. They're dead to me. They gave me their job without even asking.
Why do I do it? That's easy, and there's only one reason.
I'd do anything for my younger brothers and sister.
I looked into my baby sister's eyes. I watched her struggle, having a panic attack. That look of terror and sadness pushed me.
It pushed me to do my best to protect my siblings at all costs.
From now on family comes first and anyone who comes in my way is getting fucked up.
I'm going to make sure my sister is happy.
I'm doing this for her.
Asher's POV (Present)
I sat in the kitchen and stared at the alcohol cabinet. My parents had it locked, but I knew exactly where the keys were. I felt around on the top of the refrigerator for the key to the alcohol cabinet.
Ah ha.
Jackpot.
I grabbed some vodka and drank it straight from the bottle.
My parents are going to kill me when they see their precious vodka gone but I don't give two shits. I was feeling something, something dark. I was sad. Depressed. Lonely. I hated myself.
I miss her, I thought to myself. I miss her so much and I'm an idiot. I let alcohol overpower me and I made stupid decisions. Emerson doesn't know this, but alcohol addiction has always run in my family. When we're drunk we do stupid things. I was a jerk, and I hurt her. I loved her. I do love her.
I was starting to feel different. The worries had washed off my shoulders and were replaced with the sweet taste of vodka. It was my favorite thing at the moment. I forgot all my problems.
I'm going to win her back, I thought to myself.
I drank a beer and downed the rest of the vodka before leaving them both on the counter.
I stumbled out of the house, which now just contained my younger sister. She was probably in her room with one of her friends doing makeovers or some stupid girly shit.
I walked down the street and took a right out of the neighborhood. I proceeded to walk to her house, which was two neighborhoods down.
I walked through her neighborhood, took a right, then a left into her coldasack. There she was. It looked like she just took the trash out.
"Hey baby," I winked.
"What the hell are you doing here?" she asked, looking a bit shocked.
"Just wanted to finish what we never ended babe," I smirked. That came out wrong. Should've saved the beer for later.
I was drunk.
Suddenly she looked panicked, tears were forming in her eyes.
"Fucking leave, Asher," she said, "we're over."
She ran inside and closed the door before I got to say anything else.
"Don't go, please," I muttered to myself. I just lost the best thing I could've had.
Emerson Jones.
Funny, smart, beautiful.
I'm an idiot.
I contemplated on knocking on the door. I walked up and just as I was about to knock, I lost my courage.
I walked off the front porch and started walking to the sidewalk.
Before I knew it the front door was pushed open and one of her older brothers was dashing for me.
I think it was Wyatt.
The scary police officer.
The one with the intimidating tattoos.
He jumped on me, pushing me to the ground.
"What the hell man?" I said.
"Don't you ever come near my little sister again, little fucker, or so help me God!" he yelled in between punches.
He kept going. I could feel my nose starting to bleed, my head hurt. I tried to stand up and get away.
"If I ever see your face anywhere near her again, I'll make sure you regret it!" he yelled once again, before shoving me to the ground again.
I got up and ran away.
I kept running until I left her street.
I felt pain. With each step my body ached. I was physically worn. I fell and my vision faded to black.
I was hurting. Not only my body, but now my heart.
I was never going to get her back.
I was heartbroken.
A/N - Hey everyone! I was on a train in Europe and had time to write this! I hope you all enjoyed the different point of views and flashback! It was different for me to write but I liked it and I'll probably do more of that. I wrote this quickly so I could get something out for y'all, so I hope everyone liked it. Let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!