The Flesh Cartel #9: Trials and Errors

reached the dresser, panting a little, and lifted tired arms to open the third drawer. Saw the black case right away. It was disconcertingly large and heavy. What the fuck was Nikolai hiding in there? What would he end up having to endure to convince Nikolai he was sincere? To see Dougie again? To fix the biggest fucking mistake he’d ever made?
    “Oh, and fetch the lube, as well—the bottle next to the case. You’ll be needing it.”
    Sick fuck . Mat bit his tongue to keep from saying it aloud. There was no doubt in his mind that Nikolai would want him to keep up the argumentativeness in the long run, but not today. Today he had to prove he could be a good little slave.
    So he grabbed the lube.
    Crawling back with the lube in one hand and the case in the other proved something of a challenge. The floor was hard beneath too-bony knees, he felt tired enough to sleep for a week, and he didn’t want to do this , whatever it was. Fear was an insidious thing, and if he were stronger he’d shove it away like he always did, but shuffling back toward Nikolai now, toward the man who was no doubt about to rape and beat him half-unconscious and make him say thank you for it . . . well, he figured nobody would blame him for slowing down a little bit.
    Nikolai said nothing, just watched him, expression empty of all but a vague expectation, a ghost of haughty triumph, and a shade of doubt—not in himself, no, but in Mat. In Mat’s willingness and ability to keep playing along.
    Well, he’d fucking see. Mat would do it all, no matter how painful, no matter how depraved. To protect people weaker than himself, like Roger. To protect the only person he loved: Dougie.
    He could hardly believe he’d be seeing Dougie at all. How the hell had Nikolai agreed to that? Fuck, he didn’t care. Dougie was like a fever dream now, a memory as sweet and painful as their parents, but he was getting his brother back. He was getting Dougie back , and that was worth anything.
    Unless Nikolai was lying. Just saying what he wanted to hear. Stringing him along.
    But . . . no, If nothing else, Nikolai was a man of his word. As sick and twisted and horrible as he was, he hadn’t ever lied—not that a man in his position needed to. Besides, what would the point of it be? He knew Mat wasn’t bluffing, so why risk it?
    Nikolai snapped his fingers and said, “Give me the case, Mathias,” and Mat realized he’d stalled out, lost in his own weakened mind.
    He shuffled the last little way and rose up onto his knees. Laid the lube on top of the case and picked up the whole shebang with both hands, held it aloft on his palms, bowed his head. “Master,” he added, and managed not to make it sound too much like a sneer. Yeah, he could play along. Woof woof, look how well I learn new tricks.
    Nikolai, the fucker, left him hanging, left the case in his outstretched hands until his arms began to tremble, then outright shake, then cramp, and he gritted his teeth and locked his elbows and tried not to hyperventilate or pass out or fall over or drop the thing as sweat formed on his brow and under his arms and between his shoulder blades and dripped down his skin.
    “You’ve weakened yourself, Mathias. For shame.”
    “I’ll get strong again, sir. You’ll see.” Now please just take this fucking thing.
    “I’m sure I will.”
    But still he just stood there. What was he waiting for?
    “Ahem,” Nikolai said, a sort of half cough into a loosely curled fist. Mat twitched an eye up and saw the fucker holding back a smile. “Don’t you have something you want to say to me, Mathias?”
    Oh. Of course . “I’m, um, sorry, sir?” God, even his voice was shaking with the strain now. Take the case. Please take the fucking case.
    “For what?” Nikolai prodded, way too fucking smug.
    Which . . . good question. Just what imagined slight was he supposed to be fucking sorry for?
    The case. Your weakness. Trying to escape this place and this life in the only way you knew how.
    “For damaging your property, sir.” Spoken with proper deference and everything, never mind how fucking sick it made him, because if Nikolai didn’t take this fucking thing from his damaged property in the next five fucking seconds, he was going to drop it, and he didn’t even want to think about what might happen then.
    Nikolai nodded once, sharply, and took the case from his hands. Mat dropped his arms like lead fucking blocks and struggled to rearrange himself into some