DISCLAIMER:: I don't own 'Four Brothers'. Just Kari and whatever little bits I add to the story.

AN::: I'm rating this story mature becuause of the language:

There's a lot of swearing. ; )

Name: Kari Molloy ('Kar' sounds like the word 'car'; 'i' sounds like 'ee'; so "car-ee")

Nickname(s): K., Legs

Age: 21

Height: 5'10" --Tall (where "Legs" came from)

Weight: 130 lbs. (sorta thin- not skinny)

Hair: Brunette; a little over shoulder length

Eyes: Ice-blue

Style: Very diverse: sometimes punk, or tomboy, or girly-- depending on her mood.

Piercings: Ears (once); Belly-button; Nose (small pink heart stud)

Instruments: Voice, drums (a songwritter)

Music: All variations of rock; hip-hop too.

The phone rang. Just hang up; don't you know it's 1 in the fucking morning? I thought to myself as I willed the phone to shut up. It didn't. I rolled over in bed and hauled the phone to my ear.

"Lo?" I mumbled placing a hand over my tired eyes.

"Kari Molloy?" the voice asked from the other end of the line. It was a familiar voice but I couldn't place it to a face.

"Mmhhmm. This is her, who's this?" I asked removing my hand and looking at the ceiling with a confused face.

His voice cracked. "I-It's Jerry Mercer."

I bolted up, sitting straight in bed. Jerry... but it's been, like, 3 years... why's he crying... oh shit what happened? I snapped back to reality. "Jerry what's wrong; what is it?!" I was wide awake now, flicking the light on next to my bed.

"Oh God," he was trying, but failing, to keep himself together. "Ma went down to the fucking grocery store for a bird for Thanksgivin'. Somebody fucking shot her Kari."

Although he hadn't said it I knew Evie was dead. I held my face in my free hand and cried silently. "sniff. When's... uhh... the funeral and stuff Jer.? I'll be there."

"Two days. I don't know who's gonna show but you can stay at the old house if you want, K." he said his voice was starting to fail him. He'd used one of your old nicknames. It's been a long time since I'd heard any nicknames from the Mercer boys.

"Thanks Jerry, I'll be there for the funeral. Take it easy." I didn't wait for a response I never did. I didn't say good-bye to people on the phone because on most occasions I was going to see them again.

I couldn't go back to sleep. How could Evie be dead?! I just talked to her the other day. Oh God, the other day. I thought to myself miserably.

Flashback
"Hi Mrs. Mercer! How've you been? Detroit still the same?" I asked cheerfully.

"Well, these old bones aren't getting any younger, but I've been fine. But it never went back to normal here after the boys left, and you too." She said. Here we go, the old guilt trip. I smiled a little. "Have you been keeping out of trouble then Kari, honey?"

"Of course I have, I've even got a steady job now and an apartment." I told her.
"That's good. Well, I won't keep you dear; I just wanted to know if you'd be able to come to Thanksgiving, it's just not the same without you here." She invited kindly.
"I can't Evelyn. I just can't afford to get back to Detroit. I barely meet the rent here. I'm really sorry."

I lied.

Present
I knew I could damn well afford to drive up to Detroit to see everyone. It wasn't that I couldn't go; it was that I just wouldn't.

I couldn't face Jack, I felt nauseous now even thinking about how sad he'd been when I had told him I didn't want to see his face again. Immediately after that I'd left Detroit and headed to Chicago where I still lived today. That had been three years ago when I finished High School at the age of 17 and took off that summer.

My family and I had moved into the house next door to the Mercers when I was 9. Needless to say my closest friends were Bobby, Jerry, Angel, and Jack- I was the little sister they all took pride in protecting.

My parents were, as I always put it, "dicks". My dad was always in jail for something or another and my mom was a drug addict and spent most of her nights at other mens houses, when she wasn't at home beating me.

So I spent most of my time living at Evelyns' house and playing hockey with the boys.

Jack's about a year older than I am but was always in the same grade as me. He and I were inseparable, shadows that followed the other. I'd had a crush on Jack since I stopped thinking that boys had "cooties". I knew that Jack liked me too; not that he'd actually said such a thing. But neither of us ever did anything about it because you were afraid it'd be weird.

I couldn't stay in Detroit after High School, I just couldn't. I was going to leave but I didn't want Jack to hold onto anything that might have been between the two of you. So I got in a fight with him and told him I hated him, a lie, but now I couldn't remember what the fight was about.

I'd left the day after the fight without telling anyone where I was going; I'd left my number with Ms. Mercer but asked her not to give it to anybody... for any reason.

Jerry must have found it looking through her phone book, I realized.

I couldn't sleep now so I got up and went for a run. Sure, it was dangerous for anyone to be out this late, or early, in Chicago but I had to clear my head. I let the tears fall as I ran down the pavement. I hadn't cried in a long time. I couldn't remember when the last time had been, not even when I'd seen the look in Jack's eyes had I cried; I always held everything inside.

Now everything was just too much.

Back at my apartment I took a shower and stepped into some dry clothes for the day ahead. I called the bar that I work at and told them my mother had died- as far as I was concerned Evelyn was my only mom- I told them I was going to need four or five days off. It wasn't a problem, business was slow and I was normally pretty good about getting to work.

I was digging through my closet in search of my duffel back when boxes started to fall from the shelf above. One box that was pretty heavy dropped and hit me on the head. "Bitch!" I hissed and picked up the box. Sitting on my bed I opened it; there were a bunch of pictures in there. The pictures dated all the way back to the first couple of months in Detroit. Most of them were small hockey games the guys and I had had, school photos and a couple of them were of Evie and I cooking, I could remember Bobby with the camera. "Bobby Mercer, where did you get that camera!?" Evie had yelled. "I found it Ma, on the road." Bobby said lying through his teeth. "Do not bullshit me boy!"

I had laughed then and I laughed a little now. I looked through the box and at the bottom found a piece of paper; I unfolded it cautiously and looked at the message scribbled there in pencil. It had been written maybe a year before I left, it was how I'd learned Jack liked me- but I never told him I got it.

SORRY ABOUT MIKE.
-JACK
PS: I LOVE YOU

Mike had been one of my boyfriends; I caught him making out pretty passionately with another girl. I told Bobby, who took the others; they beat the crap out of Mike and threatened to set his ass on fire. They'd gotten grounded for about two months; however none of the seemed too bothered by it. Jacks letter wasn't about what they'd done to Mike, but what Mike had done to me.

Although the last line had been erased and scribbled over, the indents of the letters were still there. Tears came to my eyes again as I stared at the note and returned the box to the bottom of the closet to avoid future head beatings.

Jack: I'm sorry.