Her Mafia Brothers

Dressing

Authors Note: I know some of you liked my other story - "Disciplined by her big brothers" that Wattpad arbitrarily removed. Good news: it's now published and available for sale! Buy links are on my profile. I've also got ARC copies so if you want one, get in touch.

Important note: If Wattpad pulls this story as well, I will finish it and publish it, and it will also be available to buy on Amazon. As long as nobody complains that it's breaching the rules (it's not, but nor was my other book) and it doesn't get pulled, this story will be staying right here, free for everyone to read.

Sorry this update is shorter than normal. "Disciplined by Her Big Brothers" was released today, so I've been busy with new release stuff but these characters were talking to me and wouldn't shut up, so here's the latest chapter :)

I didn't want to tell him, but there had been times when I didn't think I would ever smile again, either. But I didn't voice my thoughts. Instead, I snuggled in closer to my big, strong brother and nestled myself snugly against his chest. I'm pretty sure I was dripping water on him, but he didn't seem to care.

He carried me all the way up to my bedroom before he set me on my feet and looked towards my still empty wardrobe.

"Where are your clothes?"

I nodded my head towards the chest of drawers, where I'd stuffed the few clothes I owned.

"Put on something warm," he told me. "You're shivering." Then he tugged open the top drawer, rifling through the t-shirts and things I'd stuffed in there. "Don't you have anything warm?"

My face flamed as I pulled open the middle drawer, pulling out a tatty jumper with holes in it that was too small for me. I didn't even know why I'd brought it with me, really. Mostly, it was because I was too embarrassed to come here with nothing, but that's probably what I should have done.

"Is that the only sweater you have?"

I nodded. I'd lived in a warm climate and didn't really need warm clothes. Which was just as well, because my mother had sold my nice warm coat to her dealer, for drugs. The coat had been brand new and beautiful - a birthday gift from a friend - and it had been literally the only new item of clothing I owned. Everything else was sourced from charity shops or fished out of dumpsters somewhere.

Alex frowned, disbelieving, then he shook his head. "Well get dressed and I'll find you a hoodie to wear."

Just a few minutes later, when I was still pulling my t-shirt over my still-damp body, he was back, holding a grey hoodie with white writing on it. He stopped me from tugging the shirt down and inspected the sorest burns on my shoulder blades.

"Some of these need medical attention. I'll get Damon to organise a doctor to come and see you tonight."

I gasped. "No! Please no!" No way do I want a stranger seeing what's been done to me. "You can't! Please!"

"Yes, it's necessary," Alex tells me firmly. The tone he uses makes it clear he's not going to change his mind, but I have to try, anyway.

"No!" I shake my head. "You can't do that to me. Please, you can't!" I beg.

"They're infected, Carrie. You deserve proper medical care. We promised to look after you and that's what we're going to do."

"No!" I yell. "You're not listening to me! I'm not seeing a doctor and there's nothing you can do to make me! It's my body! Leave me alone!" My voice gets louder with each sentence, and I scream the last part out at the top of my lungs. Loud enough to wake the dead. I glare at Alex and try to twist out of his grasp but instead of letting me go, he wraps his arm around my waist and pins me side-on to his thigh. It all happens so fast I don't have time to react, and he brings his hand down hard, twice, on the seat of my wet shorts that I haven't had a chance to change out of yet.

"Ow!" I shriek as tears fill my eyes. I blink them back hard. No way am I letting Alex see my cry. Not over something so trivial.

"I know you've already been warned about raising your voice," he tells me sternly, turning me around to face him. He leads me over to my bed, sits down on it, and guides me to stand between his knees so we are at the same eye level.

Alex smacking me seems to have shocked the rising panic out of me, and I stare at him, shocked into silence. I'm not afraid. Even though my bottom is still stinging from those two harsh slaps, it's obvious he's not going to beat me, or harm me.

"Relax," he says gently, a concerned expression on his face. "You've got nothing to be afraid of. You're safe here."

I nod slightly, just once.

"The doctor is a family friend, and you won't be alone with him anyway. We will be with you. All of us or just some of us; whatever you want. But it's not negotiable, Carrie. Those burns need proper treatment. You are not going to suffer in pain any more, we're going to take care of you."

Fear nags in the pit of my belly but I force it down. We're going to take care of you. You're safe now. My brother's words repeat themselves in my head. They've all told me the same thing now: I'm safe. Nobody is going to hurt me. Now I even understood what Damon meant when he was telling me the difference between the abuse I had endured and the discipline my brothers would mete out. I reached back and rubbed my butt absentmindedly; the sting was already fading. Damon was right: this was nothing like what I had endured at the hands of my mother's boyfriends.

Alex grabbed my wrist, taking my fingers in his own. "Do you understand why you got those warning swats?" he asked.

I nodded. "I think so," I said. "For yelling?"

"Yes," Alex confirmed. "Yelling and disrespect. I know it's already been explained to you why it's important that you follow these rules. We're going to help you learn them here at home, where it's safe for you to make a mistake."

"I'm sorry," I whisper.

Alex leans forward and hugs me tightly. "You're forgiven," he whispers in my ear.

He stood up and dropped the hoodie on my bed. "You can put your pyjamas on if you want to," he said. "Dinner's nearly ready. Put that hoodie on as well, keep you warm."

"Whose is it?"

"Logan's."

"He won't mind?"

Alex shook his head. "No."

Then he looked at my drawers, and back at me. "Have you got pyjamas?"

"I just sleep in my clothes." I didn't remember ever owning pyjamas. For as long as I could remember, I'd just slept in my shirt and jeans. It was safer that way. I didn't have to dress and undress. I didn't have to be vulnerable.

"That can't be very comfortable," Alex said. "Make sure you get some nice pyjamas tomorrow with Nick. For tonight, have you got sweatpants or leggings? I can get you some of Logan's, but you'll swim in them."

I nod my head.

"Verbal answer," Alex reminds me.

"I have both."

"Good." Alex stepped towards my ensuite bathroom. "Drop your wet clothes down the laundry chute there by your shower, so they can be washed and dried. Get dressed into something comfy and warm, put on that hoodie, and come downstairs for dinner."

And just like that, my gruff brother was gone.