Read Online The Flesh Cartel #9: Trials and Errors by Rachel Haimowitz - Free Book Online

hugging himself, breathing heavily so that plumes of white breath erupted from him like from a steam engine’s stack. It was darker in the trees. Harder to see. Mat tripped over something, stumbled three or four feet down an incline, stubbed his toe before regaining his balance. He’d dropped one of his sticks in the process. Didn’t really see a point in picking it back up. In tight quarters like these, poplar trunks growing skinny and close, he’d be better off bare-handed. He dropped the other stick. Squinted up through the canopy at the stars. Found the Big Dipper and then the North Star, off to his left. Which meant the mountain was sloping down to the east. Perfect. If they were anywhere near where the foliage seemed to suggest they were, the ranges in this area ran mostly north to south. Heading east meant they’d run into civilization sooner rather than later.
    Except they didn’t. The going was painfully slow in the dark and the muscle-cramping cold, especially with Dougie lagging behind, still sniffling like a child. Mat was freezing, and thirsty, and it was hard to breathe through this fucking gag, and God, he didn’t even want to think about his feet. If he managed to survive this ordeal with all his toes intact, he’d be genuinely surprised. The cold had numbed nearly every inch of him, and what it didn’t numb, it shot through with burning pins and needles. He lost sight of the driveway without even realizing it’d happened. Hiked down and hit a gulch. No way out but back up. Nearly fucking vertical. No easy feat wrapped in a fucking blanket. Dougie didn’t seem to be faring much better. He was dressed more appropriately, but not for this, not for winter in the fucking mountains in the middle of the fucking night. The wind tore at their hair. Dougie looked . . . listless. Like he was going where Mat led him only because he couldn’t bear to be alone. Like he hated every fucking step of it. Like a man walking to the gallows who didn’t even have the balls to be indignant about it, just scared and small and sad.
    They scrambled their way back up the other side of the gulch. Sat to rest, just for a moment. Too long was dangerous—they’d freeze if they stopped moving. Dougie pulled the folded bedsheet from his down jacket with trembling fingers and wrapped it around his head and shoulders. Turned to Mat, eyes wet and luminous in the moonlight, and spoke his first words in what must’ve been hours: “I want to go home.”
    I know, kiddo. I’m doing my best. We’ll hit a town eventually, I promise. We’ll talk to the cops. Maybe we’ll get home, maybe they sold our home like Madame and Nikolai said, but it doesn’t matter. We’ll get a hotel, and then we’ll get an apartment, and home will be wherever we’re together. I’ll take care of you. I’ll never fail you again.
    Dougie just blinked at him, shivered, shook his head like maybe he’d read Mat’s thoughts right off his face. “Mat, I want to go home. ”
    Fucking gag. Mat nodded back instead. Hauled himself to his throbbing feet. Reached out to take Dougie by the shoulders and pull him into a gentle hug. God, he could barely stand to touch the kid right now; it all felt so twisted and sexual. He wanted to hug his little brother like a normal person, hug him and pet his hair and even kiss him, and know one hundred percent that there was nothing ominous or inappropriate in it.
    Damn Nikolai for taking that from them.
    Dougie tore himself out of Mat’s arms, hugged himself instead, tears streaking down a face twisted with grief and fury. “It’s cold out and I’m tired and you’re lost , Mat! It’s not safe out here and you’ve . . . you’ve ruined everything , damn you! Why did you do this? Take me back. Take me back and we can still fix this . Nikolai can fix this!”
    No stopping himself—Mat hauled back and slapped him.
    Regretted it the instant the sound of impact rang out in the silent woods. Dougie crumpled, falling to