The Flesh Cartel #6: Brotherhood

you anymore. Until all I see is the gentle hand and not the cruel one.” Or worse, until he believed he deserved the cruel one when it came.
Nikolai chuckled, stood, walked back into the bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed. Stretched his legs out like a man waiting to be waited on. And Dougie fucking followed. “My poor little psychology student. You think you have all the answers, don’t you. But this is real life, Douglas. Not a textbook. Not a case study. And you are angry with yourself, and you are projecting it onto me. And the fact remains that yes, you do want to see only the gentle hand and not the cruel one, because you know you have no other options. Either you suffer and suffer like your fool brother, or you accept the gift I offer and take my gentle hand.”
Dougie was still standing—a small victory. Last night, he would have crawled. Now, he forced himself to stay standing, to fight the urge in him that called him to kneel at Nikolai’s feet, rest his head on Nikolai’s lap and beg for forgiveness. That wasn’t who he was and it wasn’t anyone he’d let himself become. Not again. Never again.
Nikolai captured his gaze, and even though it was Dougie who was standing, Dougie who was looking down on Nikolai, somehow Nikolai was the one in control and Dougie felt small. “Let me help you,” Nikolai said. “Let me care for you. Let me end your pain. I know you want that. You know you want that. Yet you cling to your old life, the one that’s gone forever, that can never be again. You cling to foolish ideals of bravery and pride, to foolish notions of winning. You worship your brother even when, in these halls, he is worse than a false god—he is a destructive god.”
Dougie closed his eyes at that, turned his head away, like not looking might somehow make that not true, or maybe make Nikolai disappear. But of course he didn’t; when Dougie opened his eyes again, Nikolai was still watching him, patient and firm.
“You cannot move forward until you see that, Douglas. Until you stop waiting for him to save you. Until you stop dreaming of your old life and accept the new.” He leaned forward, spread his arms in welcome. Smiled. Beckoning. “I’ll show you joy, Douglas, I’ll bring you happiness. But only if you let me. Let yourself have it.”
“No,” he whispered, and then raised his voice until he was practically shouting. “No, you fucking hear me? No! You say Mat is suffering right now? I don’t believe you. I don’t think you even have him. But you know what, even if you do have him and he is suffering? I want to suffer too. I don’t want anything you don’t give him. I may not be half the man he is, but maybe—” Maybe the pain can make me like him. Better the pain than where you want to lead me.
“Very well,” Nikolai said, and he wasn’t angry at all. Not even a little bit. He stood, and Dougie fought with everything in him not to stumble back at that. He actually held his ground, smiling viciously. Nikolai strode over to the chair by the table, where he’d draped his discarded suit and shirt; Dougie must’ve been too out of it last night to undress Nikolai properly. But he wasn’t too out of it to dress Nikolai now, so why was the man doing it himself ? What had changed? He’d never let Dougie off the hook before no matter how much he ran his mouth.
“I can see you’re a lost cause,” Nikolai said, fingers deft at the buttons on his shirt. “You want proof your brother is here? You want to stay by his side? Fine. I’ve a client coming for him soon. Perhaps it’s best if I sell you off as well. Let another man break you. Or not. Maybe you’ll just suffer until you die. I suppose it all depends on what sort of man your new master will be. Whether he’ll care enough about you to bother, like I have. Like I do.”
Mat. I’ll get to see Mat. Stay together. Yes. Dougie said nothing, hung his head lest his expression betray him. If Nikolai thought the prospect of being sold off with Mat was frightening, all the better for Dougie.
Nikolai finished dressing, straightened his tie. He’d made a perfect Windsor knot without even looking in the mirror. “I’ll have a talk with my client. I see you trying to hide how happy this makes you, but you’re a fool, boy. You always have been.” He unlocked the door, opened it, turned around in the doorway, and met Dougie’s eyes. “And fools always learn their lessons the hard way.”
    Mat was running for time on a