Page 26 of Pistols and Plush Toys

The bear sat in Nikolai's office for the rest of the day. No one ever came into his office except for Meredith, who wasn’t coming to his house right now because of Brooks anyway.

Nikolai pretended not to see the box as it sat there for the next morning and through the afternoon.

He kept his head down and worked, coming up only to have meals with Brooks.

They worked their way through Brooks's recommendations, all of which were winners except for one of the Asian restaurants that made everything just a touch too spicy for Nikolai’s palate.

Still, he respected the flavor. Respected Brooks's taste in food.

The neatly wrapped box caught his eye again just as he was closing his laptop to get ready for dinner. He’d already put in an order for tacos, and it was to be delivered any minute.

He stared at the box trying to decide what to do. He couldn’t just leave it there forever. He needed to—to give it to Brooks. Otherwise, why did he even buy it?

When his phone pinged with the notification that the delivery food had arrived, Nikolai made a decision. He grabbed the box as he left the room.

Setting the gift box on the kitchen counter as he walked by, Nikolai headed toward the front door.

He had to wait a few minutes for the delivery to change hands at the gate, and then for one of his employees to walk it to his door.

It was Horace again, since Alex was back at the site of the old store, probably with Pyotr.

Nikolai thanked him and took the big bag of food back to the kitchen.

He’d discovered Brooks was more comfortable eating at the kitchen table, over in the dining room, and anything that helped him eat, Nikolai was willing to do.

He went and retrieved Brooks from his room.

“Smells good,” Brooks said, his smile hesitant as usual, but at least it was a smile.

He’d become calmer, and Nikolai liked seeing it.

He liked it even better when Brooks lit up when Nikolai asked him a question about tacos, launching into an explanation of their history.

Brooks was a wealth of knowledge when it came to food, and although Nikolai had never had much interest in the subject other than whether or not it tasted good, to Brooks it was an art form.

Brooks’s passion made even learning about spices interesting.

They ate and Brooks finished his history of tacos and then surprised Nikolai by asking, “How was your day?”

Nikolai blinked at him, and Brooks hurried to say, “I mean, um. Only if you, um, want to tell me.”

“You’re wanting to know?” Nikolai asked him.

Brooks nodded. “Yeah. Yes. I mean, I-I wanted to ask… how things were going with the store.”

So Nikolai told him they’d made progress getting bulldozers out to the ruined building site, and how his insurance agent was confident that he’d be getting a payout on the building once the police investigation cleared him.

Brooks seemed to care a lot about the store situation. This was the second time he’d asked for an update.

“Are you going to rebuild it, after?” Brooks asked now.

Nikolai shook his head. “I’m wanting to relocate that shop for a while. I will sell the space. Buy somewhere else.”

“Oh,” Brooks said quietly. He lowered his gaze to the table. He’d almost finished all of his tacos, which Nikolai was grateful for, but now instead of taking another bite, he started picking at the edge of one of the tortillas.

“Is not your fault,” Nikolai said. It wasn’t the first time he’d said so.

Brooks looked up at him. “But if I wasn’t here–”

“Yes,” Nikolai said, rolling his eyes. “So you kidnap yourself?”

Brooks actually narrowed his eyes at that. Nikolai felt a little proud of himself to get a look with some heat behind it.

“That’s not what I mean,” Brooks said.

Nikolai shrugged. “That is truth, yes? How can it be your fault, when I am kidnapper, and your boyfriend is arsonist? You control others?”

“Mr. Tkachenko—” Brooks started, almost glaring now. Then he seemed to catch himself, that he was glaring, and he fumbled. “I—I mean…” he ducked his head. “Sorry.”

But Nikolai didn’t want to see Brooks timid again. Didn’t want to see the man making himself meek. “Nikolai.”

Brooks glanced back up, clearly startled. “What?”

“Is my name,” Nikolai said. “Nikolai. You can say that, not Mr. Tkachenko, okay?” He tried offering Brooks a smile. “Is maybe easier to say when you’re annoyed with me, instead of Mr. Tkachenko.” He tapped his chin. “Maybe actually you say Mr. Tkachenko when annoyed. Like calling me my father.”

“No!” Brooks said, louder than he’d been. Then, quieter, “I mean, no, um—Nikolai. If Mr. Tkachenko is your dad then… I’ll call you Nikolai.”

“Even if annoyed with me?” Nikolai asked, teasing.

It worked. Brooks let out a sound that could have almost been a giggle, if a nervous one. “Okay.” Then he bit his lip. “But, um…?”

“No biting,” Nikolai said, keeping his tone gentle. Brooks reacted world’s better to softness, and he didn’t need Nikolai to keep snapping at him for something he clearly did as second-nature. “What it is you’re wanting to ask?”

Brooks released his lip, fidgeting with his napkin. “Oh, just um. If I’m calling you Nikolai, could you call me Elliot? Instead of Mr. Brooks?”

The instinct to deny him was strong. That was letting him in too close. Brooks wasn’t a friend. He was a captive. And he would be leaving soon, Nikolai was sure of it. Going back to Vitale.

The thought was sour.

Brooks bit his lip for a reason. He was so meek for a reason.

What did it matter, in the end, to let Brooks— Elliot —be called what he wished to be called? He would be leaving. Once Nikolai reached an agreement with the Vitale family, he would need to give Elliot back to them. To show Nikolai would uphold his end of a bargain.

Nikolai couldn’t keep him, even if Elliot wanted to stay.

“Elliot,” he said, because what else could he do? “Okay.”

Elliot beamed at him. Over such a simple thing. “Thank you, Nikolai.”

It was like seeing the sun.

Nikolai glanced to the gift box still sitting innocuously on the other side of the table. Maybe he could keep seeing that smile.

“You are done eating?”

Elliot nodded, and they worked together packing up the leftovers and tossing the empty containers. Elliot was getting very familiar with the kitchen, and went to put the food in the refrigerator for them. Nikolai made sure the table was clean and then went to grab the box.

He held it out without fanfare. “Is for you.”

“For… for me?” Elliot asked, sounding uncertain.

“Yes,” Nikolai said. Then more words tripped out of him. “Think maybe… you would like.”

“Oh, um, thank you.” Elliot took the box in his arms and tentatively reached for the ribbon bow.

For some reason, Nikolai's heart started beating faster. He’d told himself that it had made sense to buy the bear.

That it would be good to give Elliot something he’d like while he was here, just a small thing to offer comfort in an environment that scared him, stressed him out.

People needed good things in their lives to get through hard times, Nikolai knew that very well.

It had seemed cruel, in some ways, not to get Elliot something… soft.

But now, watching Elliot unwrap the gift, it felt strangely revealing. Like something Nikolai couldn’t afford to be showing to anyone, let alone the romantic partner of his current problem .

It was too late to take it back now.

Elliot undid the bow and then lifted the top of the box.

The bear was covered in a layer of tissue paper, but the moment the lid was removed, it was easy to see what was inside.

He watched Elliot make that realization, his eyes going wide as his hands reached to lift the stuffed animal out of the box.

“This… is for me?” His voice was a wisp of a thing, but for once it wasn’t from fear. It was wonder.

It made an uncomfortable emotion swoop in the bottom of Nikolai's stomach, but he couldn’t make himself look away from Elliot as he set the box on the table and then lifted the bear out of the tissue paper. “Yes.”

He watched Elliot’s fingers rub over the bear, tracing over the ears and down to its face. Nikolai knew just how soft that fur was, but he couldn’t help wondering if it was up to standard. He’d only touched the giraffe once, but now he could no longer recall what it felt like.

Elliot stared at the bear for a long time, his face going through several emotions. His lip wobbled and he snagged it between his teeth again. When he looked up at Nikolai again, his eyes were glassy. “Why…?”

Nikolai swallowed hard, feeling a frisson of discomfort move through him. He shrugged, and finally forced his gaze away. “I’m thinking maybe you can use another friend here, I don’t know,” he said, too gruff. “Is not big deal.”

Elliot’s fingers tightened around the body of the bear, and he made an aborted motion to bring it closer to his body, as if he was going to wrap it in his arms but then thought better of it.

“Thank you,” Elliot whispered, gazing back down at the bear.

“Is good you like it,” Nikolai said, shoving his hands in his pockets to feel out the little lock picks he was never without. A nervous habit.

Elliot nodded, making a tiny little whimper of a sound that had heat licking up Nikolai’s spine.

He hurriedly took a step back—when had he gotten so close?—and cleared his throat. “I’m take you back to your room now. Then shower time for you later, if you’re wanting it. Okay?”

“Okay,” Elliot said. “Thank you.”

Nikolai gestured for Elliot to start walking in front of him, as usual, and together they made their way back to Elliot’s bedro—the room Nikolai was keeping him in.

Elliot went to sit on the bed, still looking down at the bear in wonder, and Nikolai made himself turn away to shut and lock the door.

When he went back to his office, intending to get more work done, he found himself sitting at his desk, replaying Elliot opening the box and discovering what was inside. The moment a soft and vulnerable emotion had crossed his face.

The way he’d touched the bear, gentle but covetous. Like it was precious.

The way that just before Nikolai had closed the door, he’d caught sight of Elliot pulling the bear to his chest, and wrapping his arms around it in a tight hug.

***

“So this is the guy?” Nikolai asked Gerard in Russian.

An older, Italian man was cuffed and badly beaten on the cement floor. Nikolai was almost surprised he had no knife wounds, but Gerard’s knuckles were freshly bandaged.

Gerard nudged the man with the toe of his boot. “Yeah.”

“Went hands-on I see,” Nikolai said.

Gerard shrugged. “Felt a little personal.”

“Wasn’t there a second one?”

“Yeah,” Gerard, pulling his pen knife out of his pocket to flip it. “But he was found in the bay two days ago.”

Nikolai hummed. “Thought it would be a bigger operation.”

“Me too. But if there were more, I could only get two names. The fall guys.”

“You going to finish him or me?” Nikolai asked, switching to English. Just to be menacing, since the man on the floor could still likely hear them.

They weren’t going to kill him. He’d get to go limping home where the Vitale family would probably see to his end.

“Doesn’t matter to me,” Gerard replied. “But before that, we should talk. You have Alex with you?”

Nikolai did, and before he could even answer, Alex was stepping into the room. He’d been waiting just outside.

“Perfect.” Gerard nodded to Alex. “Watch him, will you?”

Alex gave a nod of his own, and then Nikolai and Gerard walked out, leaving the blubbering man behind.

They were out at one of the more rural properties that Nikolai owned. One similar to where he’d taken Elliot for filming. Just a location that Nikolai kept at the ready for just-in-case purposes.

They walked a ways from the building, stopping beneath a tall tree casting shade.

“I didn’t want to say this over the phone,” Gerard started, still flipping his knife. “But word is that Vitale’s family isn’t happy with him.”

Nikolai's brows went up. “How true we think that is?”

“Very,” Gerard said. “I’d heard rumors, but the rat confirmed. The family’s been buying off his muscle, offering immunity to those willing to pass on information.”

That was interesting. Very interesting. Nikolai had been wondering what was going on there since they hadn’t heard from any Vitale aside from Mattia.

“They are going to do something?” He asked.

“That’s the problem,” Gerard said. “There’s apparently some sort of rift between Mattia's parents and the rest of the family. Otherwise they already would have. Our plan would’ve worked, ‘cept Mattia's parents have too much sway and they’re backing their baby boy.”

Nikolai frowned. “I see.”

“Yeah. I’m going to keep asking around. See if we can’t get in contact with some of the family. If they also have a problem with Mattia…” Gerard flipped his knife closed. “Well the enemy of my enemy, etcetera.”

Nikolai nodded. “Be careful. I don’t trust them.”

Gerard snorted. “Me either, mate.”

“Vitale won’t bend, I’m not thinking,” Nikolai said with a sigh. “Even for his boyfriend.”

“What was your first clue,” Gerard grumbled. “Our shop getting blown sky high?”

“I am sorry—”

Gerard held his free hand up to stop Nikolai’s apology. “Don’t. We both had our doubts about this plan, but we agreed it was our best shot at something peaceful. I was on board with you, and now we both know that something else needs to be done. I’ll ask around.”

“Thank you,” Nikolai said. “For this and everything. You have run all everything lately.”

“Sure,” Gerard said easily. “But keeping a hostage is kind of a twenty-four-seven job. How’s it been? You haven’t really said.”

Wasn’t that a loaded question. “Is fine. Elliot is easy. Passive. No trouble.”

Gerard squinted at him. “Elliot? You’re on a first name basis with the kid now?”

Nikolai crossed his arms, breaking eye contact. “He’s ask me, I say yes. Is nothing.”

“That doesn’t sound like nothing,” Gerard said, taking a step forward. “That sounds like you’re being a bleeding heart about this.”

Nikolai didn’t roll his eyes, but he wanted to. “Is fine. Normal kidnapping.”

He said it because he knew Gerard would laugh, and he did. “‘Normal kidnapping,’ he says. Fucking hell. Should I ask about the late night drinking?”

Nikolai sniffed. “I have not been. Too busy.”

Gerard squinted again. “No shit?”

“No shit.”

“Well thank fuck for that,” Gerard said, rocking back on his heels. “Maybe you should kidnap people more often.”