Her Mafia Brothers

Logan in Trouble

"She did not deserve to be mocked and attacked," Damon argued. "Your friends should not have had to pull you off her twice, and I should not have had to come in and rip you away from her. You should have had more self-control than that."

"The bitch deserved it!" Logan yelled, clearly angry now.

Hearing him yell those words shocked me and I gasped and staggered back, floored by what I'd just heard. Is that truly what he thought of me? That I was a bitch who deserved to be attacked?

Damon strode towards Logan and grabbed him up by the shirt, holding his collar in both hands in a threatening manner that absolutely terrified me. I stuffed my fist into my mouth to stop me from screaming. I wanted to run, but my feet were frozen to the floor.

"First of all, you do not yell at me. Ever. Second, you do not ever speak about your sister in that way. Is that clear?" Damon snarled in Logan's face and shook him. Even Nick looked scared.

Logan nodded frantically, looking close to tears.

"Verbal answer," Damon demanded.

"Yes it's clear," Logan whimpered.

Damon released him and he stepped backwards, stumbling slightly, and Nick reached out to steady him.

"My office," Damon repeated, pointing at the door, but Logan didn't move.

"I didn't fucking do anything!" he cried.

"Fine, we'll do this here, then," Damon growled. I watched, transfixed, as he grabbed Logan and pushed him down over the back of the couch with one hand and ripped off his belt with the other. Terror welled up within me as I watched Damon undo his belt. My body started to shake as he pulled the leather through the belt loops of his pants. And when he folded it over, dangling it menacingly in his fist, my heart stopped beating. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. I couldn't even scream.

I shut my eyes, but it didn't help. So I opened them again, needing to make sure that Damon wasn't coming anywhere near me with that.... That thing. That object of my nightmares. The weapon that had been used to torture me, to leave me welted and bleeding for the smallest imagined infractions.

I watched in horror as Damon raised his belt high and whipped it down across Logan's backside. Unlike for my spanking Logan got to keep his pants on, but I think it was small consolation. The crack of the doubled-over leather strap connecting with Logan's butt was awful. The noise was deafening. The memories it brought back were petrifying. Logan's grunt of pain made me cry silent tears.

Damon raised his belt again and whipped it down again, even harder this time, and Logan yelped. After the third crack, Logan started to struggle but Damon held him easily and lashed that evil belt down a fourth and fifth time.

"This is fucking bullshit!" Logan screamed defiantly. Angrily. Desperately. "I didn't even fucking do anything!"

Tears blurred my vision then as the world started to spin and it started to go black from lack of oxygen. Flashbacks tormented me. Visions of the monster my mother called her boyfriend standing above me, his belt clutched in his hand, lashing it down on me with all his strength, haunted me. I heard Damon whack Logan again, right at the same time he brought the belt on me, and that was when I screamed.

"Carrie, breathe. You're okay." Nick's voice, crooning softly, but there was panic in his tone. He had his arms around me, holding me close against him, but it didn't stop me hyperventilating in fear. His presence wasn't enough to drive away the demons. It wasn't enough to calm me down.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Damon throw his belt down onto the couch and walk towards me but I shrank back in fear, clutching at Nick desperately.

"Go to your room Logan," Damon ordered. For once, Logan didn't hesitate. He glared at me as he walked past but I didn't care. All I cared about was the fact that I was panicking. Fear overwhelmed me. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. My chest was tight and it hurt when I tried to suck in air. I was dizzy.

Damon came closer and I screamed again.

"No! Get away from me!" I buried my face in Nick's chest, trying to hide. "Don't let him near me!" I begged Nick, pressing my whole body against him, clinging to him with my arms and legs, trying to climb up him like he was a tree or something; protection. A place to hide.

I couldn't see anything except for blackness. My face was buried in Nick's shirt after all; and I couldn't hear anything aside from the pounding of blood in my ears. My rapid heartbeat echoing. I tried to suck in a ragged, shallow breath and got a mouthful of Nick's shirt instead.

But Damon must have stopped coming closer, because Nick wrapped his arms tighter around me and lifted me up, pressing my face against him so I couldn't see anything, and he carried me from the room. I didn't feel Damon's gentle, comforting touch. I didn't hear his voice. It was just me and Nick. Nick was safe. He wasn't holding a belt. He wasn't whipping anybody with it. Nick was the brother who taught me to kickbox. He was the best fighter out of all my brothers. Nick would protect me. He would keep me safe.

Nick will keep me safe. I repeated those words over and over in my head as I tried to get control of my breathing. It was hard, bringing myself out of my panic, but once Nick had me out of that room he sat down in a chair and set me on his lap, sitting me upright and holding me tightly.

"Breathe, sis. Big, deep breaths. Like this. Look!"

He inhaled deeply, slowly, then exhaled loudly and encouraged me to follow suit. Hesitantly, I did. It was hard, being so frightened and having only Nick to help me and guide me to calm down, but eventually I managed it. Slowly, my heart rate slowed. My tight chest loosened slightly, my breathing evened out. The dizziness swirling in my head eased.

I opened my eyes and Damon was standing there, watching us. Not far away, but not too close, either. I didn't meet his gaze. I couldn't. Instead, I buried my face back in Nick's shirt.

"Get him away from me," I whispered. "Please."

"Leave her alone," Nick ordered firmly. "She's terrified. What the hell were you thinking, belting him in front of her like that, when you know she's got trauma from being beaten with a belt? Don't you have a bloody brain?"

I was expecting Damon to scold Nick for that, but he didn't. Instead he spoke softly, addressing me.

"I'm sorry Carrie, Nick's right. I should not have done that in front of you. I'm sorry I frightened you." He took a couple of steps towards me but I shook my head frantically.

"No!" I whispered, my heart racing again.

It didn't matter that Damon wasn't holding his belt. It didn't matter that the belt wasn't even within reach - it was in the other room completely. All that mattered was what I had seen - Damon whipping my brother's ass with his belt. And what I remembered - a belt being used to beat me, mercilessly, brutally.

"Get out," Nick growled. "Don't come near her. She's traumatized. If you want to be useful, get Jack. Then go and finish dealing with our little brother. But leave Carrie alone."

Jack. I needed Jack.

I don't know what Damon said, but I heard him mumble something. Acquiescence, probably. I heard his footsteps fading away, most likely towards the stairs.

Nick held me, his strong arms secure around me. He didn't move. He didn't speak. He just held me.

Soon, I heard more footsteps, approaching rather than leaving, and I felt a gentle hand on my back. Jack. It had to be Jack.

"Carrie? Come here sweetheart. You're okay. We've got you. You're safe. You're here with me and Nick, we're not going to let anything happen to you."

Immediately, needing the comfort of my favorite brother, I let go of Nick and flung myself at Jack, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck, needing to be close to him.

"Jacky!" I murmured sadly, still frightened, but slightly calmer now. "Hold me. Please."

"I will, sweetheart. I'll hold you for as long as you need. You're okay, sweet girl. Big deep breaths, okay? You're doing well. Good girl."