Jack held me for ages and Nick sat next to us, his quiet presence helping me feel calm, safe. Flashbacks of him standing above me with a belt played on a continuous loop in my head, but slowly, thanks to the comfort of my brothers, it faded into the background more and more.
As if he could read my mind, Nick touched my arm and smiled at me tenderly.
"Damon will never use his belt on you," he reassured me softly. "But Logan doesn't have trauma from it like you do, so it's just a normal punishment for him."
I nodded, but didn't reply. And then it occurred to me. "Why are they taking so long up there? Is Damon beating him to a pulp?"
Jack chuckled. "No sweetheart, Damon won't be beating him. He's more likely to be lecturing him."
I frowned. "I don't know why adults bother lecturing us," I mused quietly. "It's not like we actually listen."
Much to my surprise, neither Jack nor Nick told me off like I'd half expected them to, and they both just laughed, instead. But then Jack turned stern, and cupped my chin in his hand, tilting my face up to look at him.
"If you ever do anything to earn yourself a lecture from me you'd best listen to every word, sweetheart. Because if you don't, you'll be in big trouble. Okay?"
I sighed. "But why?" I whined. "You know it's literally pointless, don't you?"
Jack looked like he was about to scold me but Nick reached over and patted my knee, grinning.
"Don't worry sis," he told me. 'I'll skip the lecture and just go straight to the punishment, okay?"
I pouted. "Or you could just not boss me around," I grumbled.
'Nuh-uh," Nick declared, still looking amused. "You won't be acting like a shit and getting away with it on my watch."
I ignored him and buried my face back in Jack's chest. I really couldn't be bothered arguing with my idiot brothers.
Jack hugged me again, then he stood me up so he could stand up himself.
"You okay now, sweetheart? I really need to get back to work."
I gave him one more squeeze and then I let him go. "Yeah I'm okay," I told him. The crisis had been averted, again. My brothers might be idiots, but they were pretty good at distracting me and helping me through panic attacks.
Nick extended his hand to me. "Trampoline or X-box?"
"X-box." My butt was too sore for me to jump on the trampoline. Damon might have gone easier on me than he did the last time, but my butt still throbbed. I wouldn't be able to jump on the trampoline comfortably at all. Even sitting in the oversized beanbags in front of the big gaming screen would be uncomfortable. But right now, playing X-box with Nick was the best option I had, so I took it.
"Will Logan be coming back down to play? Because if he is...." my voice trailed off, but Nick knew what I meant, anyway.
"Nah I doubt it. He usually stays in his room for a while and sulks when he gets in trouble. I doubt we'll see him until dinner time. Damon will make him come down then."
I nodded. "Okay." Because I really wanted to play X-box with Nick, but I also really didn't want to be around Logan right now. Not after hearing what he'd said to Damon about me. Sure, he was angry when he said it, but he'd still said the words and they'd still hurt. I honestly wish I'd kicked him in the balls harder.
Playing X-box with Nick was fun. I've really only played with Logan before and I was a bit worried Nick would be a poor substitute, but he was good. He wasn't any better at playing it than Logan was, but he still beat me nearly every time. We laughed a lot and time flew, and before we knew it, it was time to go and eat.
Dinner was uncomfortable. I didn't want to sit beside the only brother at the table who seemed to hate me, but I didn't have a choice. I asked Jack if he would swap seats with me, but he shook his head and pointed to my chair, indicating I should sit in it, so, huffily, I did. I sat down a bit too hard because I was annoyed that Jack wouldn't swap with me and I let out a small yelp as my butt came into contact with the chair and leaped up, sitting down very carefully next time. Beside me, Logan smirked, but I noticed he was sitting uncomfortably too, so Damon had obviously walloped him pretty good upstairs. The few swats he'd gotten down here, in front of me, wouldn't have left him still sore now. Slyly, I poked my tongue out at him, hoping my other brothers didn't see.
At the head of the table, Damon cleared his throat in warning. Oops. Maybe he did see, after all. Or maybe he was warning Logan to stop smirking at my discomfort. I don't know. Nor did I really care. Instead, I crossed my hands in my lap and looked down at my plate, really not wanting to look up and meet any of my brother's eyes. Right now, I didn't even want to be here. I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole.
The meal looked and smelled delicious, like always, but I only served myself a tiny amount. I had no appetite after the events of this afternoon and even the tiny little bit I did dish up for myself, I didn't eat. I pushed it around the plate with my fork, instead.
"Are you actually going to eat your food, Carrie, or just play with it?" Alex asked.
"She's all pissy," Logan said, his tone both mocking and venomous.
"Shut up Logan, I hate you," I hissed.
Logan was about to respond, but Damon silenced him with a glare. The most ferocious one I've ever seen, probably, and I've seen Damon give some pretty fierce glares. Honestly, right then, I was scared for my littlest big brother if he didn't toe the line pretty fast. Obviously Logan was scared too, because he quickly stopped whatever it was he was about to say, and shoveled a forkful of food into his mouth.
Conversation flowed easily between my brothers and I tuned it out, trying to eat as best I could. But my attention soon turned to Jack when Damon asked him what time he was leaving tomorrow.
"You're leaving?" I asked him, my voice high-pitched in surprise. "Why didn't you tell me? You were literally with me just before and you didn't say a word!" My voice was loud, accusing.
"I'm only going for a few days," Jack said gently, trying to reassure me.
"With Anna?"
"Yes." Jack nodded confirmation.
Of course.
"But you didn't tell me," I mumbled, hurt evident in my voice even to my ears.
"He doesn't have to tell you everything you know," Logan scoffed from beside me.
"Shut up," I growled at him. I tugged at Jack's arm. "Take me with you," I begged. "Please don't leave me here with Logan, he thinks I'm a bitch!"
"What?" Alex snarled, leaping to his feet, a threatening look on his face, his fists tightly clenched.
"Sit down brother," Nick said. "It wasn't even like that. Damon was belting him - in front of her - and he yelled it out when he was angry. He didn't mean anything by it. You know how sensitive Carrie is."
Alex visibly relaxed then, but I stiffened. I was too sensitive? Really? I watched a silent exchange between Alex and Damon, their expressions changing as they communicated across the length of the table. It was amazing what a simple lift of an eyebrow could convey, but I didn't understand any of it. I held my fork tightly, my hands shaking slightly, as my brothers were silent. I couldn't help verbalizing my thoughts, mostly under my breath, but loud enough for my brothers to pick up on much of it. Right now, I didn't want to be around any of them. Jack was leaving. Logan hates me. Nick thinks I'm too sensitive. I was still upset at Damon for belting Logan in front of me; even though he didn't come near me with it, it was still terrifying. Only Rocco and Alex hadn't upset me today, but that was probably only a matter of time.
I jumped half a foot in the air when Damon slapped his palm down onto the table, making the cutlery rattle and the china clang. "That's enough!" he growled. It was the closest I'd ever heard him come to raising his voice around me, and I swallowed hard as he shook his head like he was defeated, got up from the table quickly, and left the room.
"Good one, you've even chased Damon away," Logan scoffed. "You're such a brat. The world doesn't revolve around you, you know."
He shut up at Nick's fierce glare, but it was too late, the damage had been done. Something had snapped inside of me and I saw red. I turned to him and pushed him with all my might. He barely even budged which pissed me off further, so I shoved him again and started screaming in his face. Letting out all my anger and frustration, all my bottled up hurt.
"I've been abused for years!" I screamed at him. "Every day I was made to feel worthless, useless, like a piece of shit that didn't deserve to live! How the hell is that me thinking the world revolves around me?"
I took a deep breath, pushed Logan again, and continued my tirade.
"Every single day I was hurt, beaten, sworn at, starved, neglected. I drank whatever alcohol I could get my hands on, to numb the pain. My clothes were too small, my shoes had holes, they put their cigarettes out on my body. I was used as an ashtray. Some days I didn't get to eat. I had to take care of myself when I got sick because nobody cares enough to take care of me. The bitch who called herself my mother certainly didn't, she was off her stupid face half the time, not even aware that I existed. When they had friends around I spent hours cowering in the corner, silent, hoping they forgot I was there because if they remembered, I'd be hurt. And I couldn't escape because they were between me and the door. We didn't even have a house, half the time. We were homeless, staying in shelters."
Part of me was aware that my brothers were all silent, watching, listening. I was half expecting one of them to stop me, to pull me away from Logan, to hug me tight and stop my screaming, to comfort me, but maybe they were aware that I had to get all of this out because none of them moved a muscle to stop me. Even Logan didn't try to stop me from pushing him, or from screaming at him.
"That belting you got from Damon? That's nothing compared to what I got, and all I did was look at him. I opened the door and he was sitting right there and I looked at him and he lost it at me, he stood over me and hit me so hard with the buckle end of his belt, over and over again, that he made me bleed."
Logan looked at me in horror but I couldn't stop. Not now. Pandora's Box had been opened and everything was coming out and I wasn't going to stop until it was all empty. Until everything was out in the open. I'd worry about picking up the pieces later.
"You've grown up in a home where you've been treated well, you've had fucking luxury! You've had 3 meals a day, that's what I'd get in a week! You had nice clothes to wear, that fitted, that nobody took from you. Mine mostly came from a dumpster. I got given a nice coat once, brand new, my mother sold it for drugs. You got a car to drive to school in. Some days I couldn't even go to school. I was too sore and weak and hungry to even get out of bed."
I pushed him again and punched him in the chest for good measure.
"Don't you ever fucking tell me the world doesn't revolve around me, you asshole. Because I know. I fucking know! I didn't matter to anybody for fucking years!"
Tears were streaming down my face so much now that I could barely see, and this time when I punched him he caught me wrists, holding them tightly. I screamed in frustration, but he didn't let me go.
Somebody, Jack I think, took my hands and led me gently, with me still screaming at Logan, to the punching bag hanging up outside the dining room and held it steady while I attacked it. I screamed out my anger, punching it, kicking it. It was Logan's face I was bashing as I hit the bag but slowly that face morphed into his and I attacked it harder, going crazy, until I collapsed, exhausted, in a heap on the floor, my fists still pounding, my body racked with sobs. I was shaking so bad I couldn't stand up. I cried into the carpet, my fists clutching at it, trying to ease the pain in my core.
I had broken apart. Everything that was inside me had come out. My brothers now all knew the full extent of my abuse. There was no going back, now.
I felt a body next to me. Strong arms wrapped around me, holding me tightly right there on the floor. I didn't know who it was, nor did I care. I sank into the security those strong arms offered, knowing I was safe, and cried wretchedly, unable to stop. I buried my face into the shirt of whatever brother was holding me, clinging to him, digging my fingers into him, making sure he wasn't going to let me go.