Tears flowed down my cheeks, wetting the back of Nick's shirt, and my shoulders shook with sobs. I wanted to go home, but I didn't, at the same time. At home, there would be trouble. I'd have to face up to what I'd done, my brothers would want to talk about it. They'd want to know what I'd been thinking. But talking about all this was the last thing I wanted to do. I just wanted to pretend it didn't happen. I wanted to never mention it again. I didn't want to have to relive my stupidity, come up with some explanation for my bad choices that wouldn't be good enough for them, ever. I knew, to their minds, there was no excuse for running away, straight into the arms of my kidnappers. And I knew that there was going to be no way I would be able to explain to them that I didn't really appreciate how much danger I was actually in. I'd known, on some level, sure. But mostly? I'd thought they were over-reacting and trying to scare me into staying at home where they could control me or something. I didn't really think I would get taken. Definitely not so close to home.
I just want to go to bed. I want to curl up in a ball, pull the covers over my head, and hide forever. Or for the rest of today, anyway. This sucked.
I squirmed, and Nick adjusted me over his shoulder. I think he's going to put me down, but evidently it's just to get me in a better position to whale on my ass again, because that's what he does: whacks my butt squarely in the centre, even harder than he did before. I yelp in pain, but he doesn't stop. Instead, he spanks me again and again and again, hard, burning swats that feel like they're bruising me. I don't think even Alex spanked me this hard, and he spanks harder than Damon does.
I can't take this anymore. This is torture!
I bury my face in the back of Nick's shirt and succumb to my sobs.
"Are you going to spank her the whole way home?" Logan asks and shame washes over me. It's bad enough that I'm getting my butt whacked. But in front of my brothers? Logan and Jack and Rocco? And probably Paul and some of the security team too? And if anyone on the street might be looking?
"Yep," Nick confirms. Nobody argues with him. Nobody sticks up for me. Nobody tells him to stop.
I wait for Jack to put an end to this. Surely he'll tell Nick to stop? That he'll carry out my punishment in private? But he doesn't. He just lets it continue. First out on the street, then in through the gate, up the path, around the side of the house, across our backyard and inside the house. All the way into the kitchen.
I'm crying so hard I can't talk. I can't think. I can barely breathe.
Nick puts me on my feet and immediately wraps his arms around me, hugging me tight but I'm furious at him for spanking me in public so I yell "no!" and push him away. Nick looks crestfallen. I've never refused comfort after a spanking before, but my emotions are all over the place and I don't even know what I'm feeling. I don't know how to process what just happened. I don't know how to accept the fact that I was grabbed of the street by perfect strangers, and my brothers had to figure to get me back. They had guns. Did they kill anyone? Am I inadvertently responsible for a death, or multiple deaths, because I left my house? What kind of world do I live in where I can't even leaver my house for fear of getting kidnapped? What kind of world have my brothers put me in? I know one thing: I am not okay. Not at all. I am not okay with any of this.
But I can't voice my feelings. I don't know how to. I can't even get them straight in my head, let alone untangle them enough to verbalize them. So instead, I sink to the floor, bury my face in my hands and cry even harder than I was before.
Strong hands pick me up. I'm lifted into the air, sat on a lap, my cheek is pressed to a broad chest. I think it's Rocco who is holding me because Jack is beside us on another stool and he strokes my hair and speaks softly, reassuring me, calming me down. I'm not sure that this is fixable, though. I feel betrayed. Let down. When I was little, Jack promised he would always keep me safe. He wouldn't let anything bad happen to me. And obviously he couldn't help what happened to me when Mom took me away, but Jack is in charge now, and nothing is right at all. I'm confined to the house, two of my brothers are not here, I have no door, I got kidnapped, and my butt is on fire. And Jack let it happen. He let all of it happen.
"I want Damon!" I stammer the words through my sobs, and, surprisingly, Jack understands.
"Well calm down and stop crying sweetheart, then we can ring him," he says, stroking my hair tenderly.
I don't know why I want Damon. Damon should be the last person I want. Usually, I want Jack. But Jack's right here and he's not fixing anything. In fact, he let it happen! He's a useless big brother. Damon is the only one who can fix this. At least, I hope he can. If Damon can't fix it, it isn't fixable.
"Why are you coddling her?" Logan asks from beside us, derision dripping from his voice. I suck in a breath, trying to get my crying under control, because I want to hear the answer. I probably want to hear for a different reason than Logan does, but I'm curious, all the same. I've just royally fucked up. I got my ass beaten all the way home. So why are my brothers coddling me? Do they secretly acknowledge that this is partly their fault?
"We're not coddling her, Logan," Jack growls. "But she needs to calm down or she's going to make herself sick. We can't have even have a proper conversation while she's in this state, let alone have any discipline."
Oh. Well, damn. It doesn't sound like Jack is taking any responsibility here for his part in this. I mean, he was the one who let Rocco take my door. He was the one in charge at the time. And what does he mean by discipline? Wasn't Nick spanking my butt the whole way home, enough? It's already burning and aching, like I sat on a hot stove and got hit by a bus at the same time. Was that not my punishment?
"Well I don't want to hang around," Logan said grumpily. "I'm so sore from rescuing her that I can barely breathe. I'm going to my room."
Jack frowned. "That bad? I'll get a doctor to come and check you out."
Logan nodded, and then he turned to me. "Stop being so stubborn and selfish and grow up and be a part of the family!" he growled. "You're a part of it whether you like it or not and when I found out you had gone I was terrified for you. Do you know how stupid you were? I hope they punish you good because you deserve it and I hope you never pull such a stupid stunt ever again." His voice is deep, growly, like our big brothers. Like he's full-on scolding me. I don't like it. What authority does he have to tell me off?
"I got hurt rescuing you, Carrie. And you don't seem all that grateful."
That was the last straw, it really was. "I didn't ask you to come and rescue me!" I screamed at him. "I didn't ask for any of this!"
A scary expression flashed across Logan's face. He looked furious. Mad enough to kill. He steps forward, his hand raised, and I'm sure he's about to slap me. Why? What did I do wrong? But just as I'm about to protest, Nick catches his wrist.
"Just go, Logan," Jack orders firmly. "I'll send a doctor up to you soon." But the look Jack gives me, leaves me with no doubt: he fully expects me to apologize.
"Sorry," I mumble, but even to my own ears, it's obvious I don't mean it. Not really. Logan knows it's not sincere, too, because he just glares at me and stalks away. And I'm left alone with my three angry, big brothers. And if the fury radiating off them is any indication, I'm about to get my ass royally busted. Like, really badly. Worse than I've ever had before. Much worse.