The Long Road by Rachel Haimowitz

Author:Rachel Haimowitz [Belleau, Rachel Haimowitz;Heidi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Riptide Publishing
Published: 2014-06-28T00:00:00+00:00

Mat waited for hours. Sure, he’d tried his best to take Nate’s advice to heart. He’d put on a movie. Skipped some rope. Looked up some new recipes on their new computer, in case Doug came home for dinner.

Mostly he sat on the couch staring at his phone, waiting for it to ring.

Dreading that it would ring, because if Doug called him, it would only be for something terrible.

On the other hand, maybe something had happened that was so terrible he couldn’t call.

No. He had to let Doug explore his freedom. He had to let Doug explore his freedom. He had to let Doug explore his freedom.

He chewed on his lip. Stared at his phone. Turned the TV on, then turned it off again.

Texted Nate, who texted back, Can’t talk now but hang in there.

As day turned to night, he grew too worried to sleep, so he wrapped himself in a blanket and sat vigil on the couch. If he passed out from exhaustion now, at least he wouldn’t be too uncomfortable.

Doug came in at around three in the morning. Fell in, to be specific.

He could barely walk. He reeked of booze and . . . other things. His shirt was torn. His hair mussed. No mistaking the stain on the front of his vest, even in the low light. The crusty smudge on his cheek, the stiff tufts of hair, the bite marks and bruises blooming on his exposed skin.

Oh God.

Mat launched up from the couch, caught himself halfway across the room and forced himself to go slow, be gentle. His baby brother had been attacked. Again. On Mat’s watch. Rushing him now would only make things worse.

“M’off duty,” Dougie slurred, nudging Mat’s questing hands away when they landed on his shoulders, ran down his arms, looking for injury.

“Who did this to you?” Mat asked, keeping his voice soft. He couldn’t panic. He needed to stay calm. For Dougie. “Dougie, Dougie look at me. Who did this?”

Dougie’s eyes dragged up from his feet to Mat’s face. Widened, briefly, then settled back down. “Mat?” he asked.

Mat nearly choked on the alcohol fumes streaming from his brother’s mouth. Grasped his shoulders again, gentle, gentle. Couldn’t bear the thought of hurting him. “Yeah, Dougie. Yeah, I’m here.”

“Jus’some guys at the club.” Dougie listed out of his grip. “Calm down. S’not like I didn’t aks for it. Just havin’ some fun.”

He pinballed toward the hallway to their rooms.

Mat chased after him, couldn’t decide if he wanted to hug Dougie or hit him.

It’s not just fun, not for you or me. It can’t be just fun. Even if you asked for it, they should have known better than to say yes. You don’t have to do this if you need approval or love or whatever; I’m right here.

But he found he couldn’t say any of it. Was horrified, in fact, by what did come out of his mouth: “You’re smashed, Dougie.”

“S’Doug,” he said, whirling around like a wobbly top and poking a finger into Mat’s chest.

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