At the tender age of five and thirteen, Jessica along with her brother Jairus, life shattered. Losing both parents to a fatal bank robbery gone wrong. Jairus being the eldest of the two packed his and Jessica’s bag as soon as they got back home from the cemetery once their parents were laid six feet under. It had taken him weeks of odd summer jobs — because he was raised to work hard for what he desired — to save up for his first automobile months before the tragedy to work on as an experiment.
It didn't matter, Jairus instead took the money, buying two tickets for the next bus out of town, even if there wasn't a solid plan in general. All he knew, was he had to get him and his baby sister away from a gold-digging and the only living family they had, who were supposed to take care of them if anything should happen to his parents.
Their father was an established architect with Hispanic background thanks to his great-grandfather. Oswald McQueen went to France for a small vacation and instead found love with the beautiful Annabeth Peru, formally the daughter of a prominent member of society's elite. Mr. Peru was against their relationship since he was racist and thought that Hispanic people were nothing but commoners, and uneducated individuals, the entire family thought so.
It didn't stop Oswald however, he was never ashamed of his heritage. The fact that his grandfather who Jairus is named escaped the hardship of his homeland back in Santos to make a better life for his pregnant wife, made Oswald appreciate the life his father built for him. He got the best education could offer, excelling in every lesson, class, and extra-curriculum since his mother had insisted on it. They weren't rich, just hardworking people until they both died of terminal illnesses three years apart.
Annabeth Peru eventually became Oswald's wife and since then the Peru family had always hated the man. They were, however, happy to watch over the dead couples' finances which included a teenage boy and his young kid sister who they had no intention of caring for.
“What’s wrong with you?” Jessica queried concerned about her brother, who still held the now lukewarm beer in his hand.
“It's nothing,” Jairus is quick to reply, the slight distinctive French accent slipping out.
“Bullshit!” Jessica retorts knowing her brother better than he knew himself.
He practically raised her and if his accent is coming out, it usually meant something was bothering him. Sure, they both have an accent, but no one could pinpoint the origin of it since they're both French, Spanish, and Welsh speakers. Even so, Jairus french has always been more spot-on since he only left France at thirteen, compared to her five-year-old self.
“Uncle Jay!” Travis and Steven, the twins, hollered running up to their uncle, not caring that they were interrupting adults' conversation — something their mother has taught them not to do but this was Jairus so they got a pass.
“Hiya boys, have you two been good?” Jairus half-heartedly asked seriously.
“Yes!” They both answered hugging the man tightly.
“Are you staying for the weekend, Uncle Jay?” Travis is the one who asked, he's the most mischievous out of the two. Even though identical, Jarius could tell them apart since birth. Travis’ hair is raven black, whilst his brother's is slightly dark-brown.
Pretending to think about it, Jarius tapped his chin feigning concern. “Well I guess a few days would be good, ” he finally responded with a carefree shrug.
“Yaay!” Both boys cheered running off inside the house, not knowing the man already planned on staying — they loved their uncle very much.
Jairus did need some time with his family after all.
“Spill it,” Jessica demanded glaring at her brother taking a seat beside him on the steps of the porch where he has been sitting since his arrival earlier in the afternoon.
Of course, she wouldn't let it go. Jarius thought frowning to himself.
“Cohen,” he replied bitterly making his sister's brown eyes go wide in surprise until they become slit in fury. Jessica had inherited practically everything of their mother except for the eyes, he did but favored their father in everything else.
“That man has done enough to you, why the hell is he back in your life!” Jessica fumed recalling the hardship her big brother suffered at the hands of the decorated General.
“It's not him...I think she's his kid,” Jarius mumbled making his sisters' mood take a drastic turn at the information.
“A she huh?” Jessica says in too much of a suggestive tone making her brother not only scowl but also a little flustered, which never happens.
“It's not what you think, I was out on my midnight walk when I happen to see some douche forcing himself on somebody, only to realize it was a female, so I intervene — bringing home the girl for the night to sleep off whatever drug she took. The following morning somebody comes breaking down my damn door, next thing, his name is being mentioned.” Jairus briefly recalled, ignoring the slight guilt he felt about throwing Olivia out the way he did she didn't deserve it.
Sighing, Jessica takes a hold of her brother's hand. “Let's just hope the encounter doesn't come back to bite you in the ass,” she says with an encouraging smile.
“I'm just going to skip dinner for this evening, alright,” Jarius replied with a forced smile trying to reassure his sister. But she knew better as she watched him sauntering towards the door, disappearing inside the house, no doubt blaming himself for what happened years ago.
Jarius has always been serious, but he only got worse after he enlisted. The brother she loved, died after what Thomas Cohen did to him. The country he served and protect, betrayed and turned its back on him. She can't help but feel responsible for his dilemma too, it's because of her he had upped and joined the army to support her through school, especially college since his true dream was to become a mechanical engineer — cars have always fascinated her brother.
Familiar broody hands wrapped themselves around her sideways, immediately proving safety like her brother once did — not like he didn't provide it now — it's just not the same as eight years ago. “He's got that look again,” Jackson her husband of six years — eight if you count how long they've been together muttered in her shoulder-length raven-black hair.
“Old demons,” Jessica replied. Little did she know it was bigger than that.
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