The Flesh Cartel #6: Brotherhood

you’d like. Pity him, if you must—gods know he’s a pitiable creature. But do not carry the burden of his guilt.”
“How— How can I do that? Sir, I— He’s my brother, and that man . . . that man was so brutal and I . . . I can’t— Even if Mat can sit by and be okay with me being hurt, I can’t— I can’t do the same, sir. And even though I was there and I saw it happen, sir, saw him not help me—” Stop talking. Stop talking. Stop talking. You’re going to make him angry with you.
“Go on, Douglas. I appreciate your honesty. I want you to trust me with this. Nothing you can say is wrong.” He rubbed Dougie’s shoulder gently. “Irrational, perhaps—feelings are by their nature, after all—but not wrong.”
Dougie took a deep, fortifying breath. He had to take Nikolai at his word if this was going to work. “Sir, I don’t want to call you a liar, but I just can’t believe he could do something like this. That’s not my brother, sir. It’s not. So how am I supposed to think he got what was coming to him? Even if he really did sit by and watch, even if he wasn’t . . . I don’t know, drugged or being c-coerced—” No. No. Stop. “Sir, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that to be an accusation, I promise I didn’t, but how could anyone deserve—” rape by baseball bat, God, he couldn’t even make himself say it “—what . . . what that man did?”
“Boys in your position, Douglas, you’ll soon learn, get exactly what they deserve—nothing more, nothing less, every time. I know that may sound harsh to you now, but I’ll help you to understand, I promise, if you promise me that you will try to understand. Can you do that, Douglas?”
Dougie nodded. Truth be told, he thought he might understand more than Nikolai realized. He could be a hole or he could be a pampered pet. The choice was his, made by action and attitude. He knew that now, in his head at least, if not yet his heart.
“Good, Douglas, that’s good. I’ll start right now.” Dougie cringed, bit back the urge to babble apologies, to ask if the lesson would hurt because it seemed the ones that stuck the best always did. But he didn’t have to. Nikolai held him tight again and shushed him and said, “Easy, Douglas, easy, I’m not going to hurt you. Well, a little, maybe, but not the way you think. I have something to show you, that’s all. And I didn’t want to have to show you, but I can see now that you need it to understand, to accept what needs accepting. And I can see how badly you want to understand and accept, and I know how strong you are now, Douglas, so I think you’re ready.”
He urged Dougie off his lap, and Dougie went willingly but warily, propping himself against the pillows Nikolai vacated. Whatever pills Nikolai had given him, they weren’t morphine, but they’d definitely helped; moving was no longer torture, and holding still was almost painless, even if he didn’t dare sit on his ass. He watched Nikolai cross the room to the little table where he’d draped his pants and suit jacket, watched him retrieve his smartphone from the inside breast pocket.
Nikolai returned, perched on the edge of the bed. So strange to see him in his boxers and an untucked shirt. Two top buttons undone, throat exposed. He looked . . . human. Vulnerable, almost. Still such a commanding presence, though, even half-dressed. Powerful and handsome as ever.
“Look here,” Nikolai directed, holding the phone out for Dougie to see. There was a video queued, the frame frozen on an image of Mat at a little table just like Dougie’s, the back of Nikolai’s head in the foreground. Security camera footage, no doubt. It made Dougie’s stomach roil, filled him with absolute dread. He was suddenly, blindingly certain he didn’t want to watch this.
Nikolai’s free hand clasped his shoulder. “I need you to be strong for me now, Douglas. Can you do that?”
“I . . . I don’t think I can, sir. I . . .” Tears sprung in his eyes, falling as he blinked.
“You can. I’ll help you, Douglas. I’m right here. I won’t let you fall. And I promise, once you see this . . . it will hurt, but I think it will give you the new perspective you need to move forward. Free you. Don’t you want that, Douglas?”
He did, oh God, he did. He didn’t want to hurt anymore. He didn’t want to feel guilty or so crushingly alone. He didn’t want to miss Mat anymore. He wanted to fill up this hole in his heart however he could—with