Her Mafia Brothers

In Trouble

My heart was in my throat, pounding so hard it just about cut off my air.

"He deserved it," I declared, trying to sound far braver than I felt.

Damon raised one eyebrow at me and glared at me sternly. "Logan deserved to be incapacitated because you kicked him in the balls? What did he do that was so bad that you felt like you had no choice but to kick him in a place where it would hurt the most?"

"I didn't kick him," I said.

"Excuse me?" If Damon's voice got any colder, it would turn me into stone right here in my bedroom. As it was, icy chills went down my spine and I tried to stop myself from shaking.

"I didn't kick him, I kneed him," I clarified.

"Didn't Nick teach you that you only kick someone in the balls in self-defense? When you are in danger and have to get away? It's not something you do to your brothers. Ever."

Only at the start of every training session. But I didn't admit that to Damon. Judging by the fury written on his face, the tension in his body, and the way he was clenching his fists right now, I was in enough trouble without making things worse for myself.

"Nick would be proud of me!"

"I very much doubt that," Damon said. "But to make sure, I'll be having a chat to him later and we'll be reinforcing with you that fighting is only for self-defense, not for attacking. I don't think you realize how close Logan came to hurting you. If his friends hadn't pulled him off you, you'd be one very sore little girl right now."

Damon had chosen the words little girl deliberately, to put me back in my place. He knew I hated being called that, which was exactly why he'd said it. He was reminding me, very effectively too I must add, who was the boss around these parts, and who was the child.

"So is Logan in trouble for trying to kill me?" I asked sassily, trying to distract my big, scary oldest brother from what I'd done.

"That is none of your concern."

"He tried to kill me!" I objected. "I think I have a right to know if he got in trouble."

Damon crossed his arms over his chest and glared down at me. "Are you arguing with me?"

He said those words so sternly that I almost died of fright.

I gulped and looked at my feet. They were quite interesting, my feet. They had....

Damon caught my chin in his hand, squeezed it, lifted my face up, forcing me to look at him. One eyebrow was raised and his lips were pressed into a firm line. His dark eyes sparked with anger. Despite knowing deep down that he wasn't really going to hurt me, my heart started racing and that all too familiar tug of anxiety started knotting deep in the pit of my belly.

Oh hell. This was really not good.

"No sir I'm sorry," I stammered, suddenly terrified. Ordinarily, I wasn't afraid of Damon. But when I was in trouble with him, and I remembered his power, I was petrified.

"You don't need to call me sir," Damon reminded me softly. "I'm your brother, not those shitty people from your past." He let go of my chin and brushed my hair back off my forehead tenderly. "Breathe, Carrie. You don't need to be afraid."

"But I'm in trouble!" I blurted out, my breathing shallow, erratic.

"Yes," Damon agreed simply. "You are in trouble. But nothing is going to happen while you're panicking. Calm yourself down. Discipline shouldn't be traumatizing."

"So you're not going to punish me?" I asked hopefully, focusing on my breathing.

Damon chuckled. "Oh I'm definitely going to punish you. But let's get you calm, first. Big deep breaths, Carrie-girl."