In which you've got textbook daddy issues and when your tool of a younger brother brings a sweet doe eyed girlfriend home for Thanksgiving and you end up offering her a ride home, you meet just the man to fix them.
Warning: smut, daddy kink, age gap...
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You got into your car and started the engine, blasting the heat up. Gosh, it was cold. You'd gotten used to that Californian weather and forgotten just how brutal February was back home. While you waited for the car to warm up, thanking your lucky stars that you had been the one to drive the two of you to the airport when you'd left, you fished out your phone, your fingers hovering over the screen hesitantly. Eventually you typed in <<landed safely. i know you've got more important matters on your mind right now... but please call me when you can, i'm worried. and i miss you.>>
You hadn't heard from Harry in almost 2 days. He drove home using the rental and it was unspokenly agreed upon that you'd get back on the flight you'd already booked for Friday. You had to travel next to an empty seat, no one to hold your hand while you were freaking out during take off or landing, but that was the least of your concerns right then.
You finally drove off when he didn't reply and before you knew it, you realised you were driving home. You could've just gone to your actual home, and driven for 2 hours into the next town, but something made you drive to your parents'.
You were totally in the dark about everything. All you knew was that Emily had gotten in some sort of trouble that required the help of a lawyer, at least that much you'd heard Harry say over the phone to his daughter that Wednesday night. And then he told you that he'd better not get his hands on Derek- meaning your brother had some involvement. But that was the extent of it, you knew nothing else, and it was driving you crazy.
You'd refrained from asking Harry anything about it, and when he announced he'd be driving home that night using the rental because he couldn't find any flights that would get him there sooner than the 11 hour drive, you didn't question it, you didn't try and fight it or tag along.
You just got out of the way.
But then, you stayed up all night worried about him driving home alone for such a long stretch, and when he didn't even let you know whether he'd made it safely you couldn't help but feel hurt- not to mention you were worried out of your mind. Surely he'd had to stop for gas at some point. And surely he'd stopped to sleep for at least a 2 hour power nap, right?
Right?
And then Thursday rolled out with no word from him, and you had to refrain from texting or calling so many times. You were worried, but he needed space to deal with whatever was happening. And you felt guilty; your brother was involved, and knowing Derek, it was probably really bad. You felt like hiding under a rock out of pure shame, solely for being his sister. You couldn't help but feel indirectly responsible for whatever he had done.
You killed the engine as you parked in your parents' driveway and reluctantly dragged your body out of the car, leaving your luggage in the trunk in case you'd need to make a run for it. You never knew what would be awaiting you when it came to your family and you weren't planning on hanging around, you'd probably be gone come morning.
