Her Mafia Brothers

Aftercare

Jack just stood there, holding me, for what seemed like forever but also only a few seconds, at the same time. His one-armed hug wasn't enough, but I clung to him like a weed, not able to let him go.

"Pull up your pants, Carrie," he commanded softly.

I cried even harder as the fabric scraped against my burning bottom, but once my clothes were fixed firmly in place, Jack gently guided us both to his bed and sat down, still holding me close against him. Soothing me. Whispering to me softly. Reassuring me. Eventually, I fell asleep leaning against him, completely worn out from so many emotions, and crying so many tears.

When I opened my eyes again, it was Rocco's strong arms that were around me, not Jack's. I was curled up on Rocco's bed, and Rocco was there beside me, watching some weird action movie that I'd never seen before, turned down low. He greeted me with a smile.

"You hungry?" he asked. "You've been asleep for more than an hour."

Without even thinking about it, I nodded. I was hungry. I'd barely eaten anything all day, and now that I wasn't an emotional wreck anymore, I wanted food. Junk food, preferably. Damon liked me to eat healthier options, but he wasn't here, and I didn't care about what he thought I should eat right now. I wanted comfort food. Chocolate. Macaroni cheese. Fudge. Something yummy.

"Okay." Rocco nodded, and started to get up, but then he obviously thought better of it because he lay back down and looked at me hard, his face stern.

I gulped a bit sheepishly.

"Don't you ever do that again, alright?" he growled. "You ask for what you need. You want attention? Say something! Don't just slam like your door like a toddler having a tanty and then storm off like a spoiled little brat. You endangered your life, Carrie! Do you know how scared I was for you?"

Unable to meet his gaze, I looked down at Rocco's bed, paying super close attention to the gray duvet. But Rocco grabbed my face and made me look at him. I didn't want to, but he didn't give me a choice. This felt too much like deja vu. I'd been in this predicament once before, in trouble with Rocco because I scared him by pretending to drown. Oh yeah, and by hiding under Jack's bed before that. I'm surprised he's not spanking me, honestly. I probably deserve it from Rocco more than anyone else, although I'm grateful he's not. I don't think my butt can handle any more smacks. What were the words he used last time? Take away the thing I love most or something like that?? I couldn't remember exactly, but I thought that was pretty close.

"You look stupid with one eyebrow," I mumbled. I didn't really mean to say it, it just slipped out, but Rocco just snorts and grins. "And I still hate you for taking my door. None of this would have happened if you hadn't taken my door!" There's a distinctly whiny tone in my voice and I'm pretty sure Rocco doesn't like it. But I'm on a roll now, and words flow out of me so fast that I can't stop them. "Don't pretend this is easy, us being here, stuck in this house, not allowed to leave, while our two oldest brothers are out doing god knows what for this stupid mafia. And Jack is shot up, thanks to this stupid mafia. And you and Nick were fighting and Paul had to break you up and this sucks! It all sucks!"

"Yep, it does." Rocco is surprisingly candid, and his straight-up answer makes me jolt. He's not scolding me? He's agreeing with me? I'm so confused. But also, I'm reassured. But Rocco's not done. He grabs hold of my chin again and holds my face still, his trademark scowl a bit wonky with only one eyebrow.

"But no matter how much something sucks, you can not just run off like that, okay? I don't ever want to have this conversation with you again. Do. Not. Run. Off. Do you understand how important this is?"

I nod as much as I can with Rocco still holding my chin, but that's not good enough for him. Damn Damon and his stupid rules!

"Verbal answer, Carrie."

"Yes!" I grumbled sulkily, talking far louder than I ordinarily needed to, but I was mad and frustrated and sad and I didn't care if he knew it. In fact, I wanted him to know it.

"Do you know why it's important?" he pressed.

I roll my eyes. Why won't he let this go? Does he really think I'm stupid?

"I got kidnapped, remember," I snarl at him angrily. "I don't think I'll be risking that again anytime soon. I don't know why you're still going on about this, anyway. Damon wouldn't shut up about it before, and Nick and Jack both drummed it into my ass. Literally."

Rocco just stares at me as if he can't quite believe what I'm saying. Like he thinks he must be hearing things, or something. Because surely I didn't just speak to him the way I did?

"You've got a surprising amount of attitude for a kid with a stinging ass," he observes, a bit too sternly for my liking. "This is important, Carrie. You were taken from us by people who meant you harm, and we had to fight to get you back, and now you're treating it like it's a game." Rocco's still lying on his side, facing me, and there's nothing particularly threatening about him at all, but he's frowning, and his hand moves from my chin to my thigh and I remember how much it's going to sting if he decides to whack me. So I quickly backtrack and apologize, trying to inject just enough of a remorseful tone into my voice so I sound genuine, and not fake.

"I'm sorry, okay? I know it's not a game, Rocco. I was terrified when they put that bag over my head and grabbed me. I don't think I've ever been more scared in my life! And I will stay here from now on, and I won't try to run away again, or go anywhere without permission and security, because I never, ever want that to happen again. I promise."

I must sound sincere enough because Rocco just looks at me hard for a moment, and nods. Then he gets to his feet and extends a hand to me.

"Come on then, we'll go downstairs and get some food."