Page 28 of Pistols and Plush Toys

He couldn’t help the glance back at Nikolai after, flinching a little, but Nikolai didn’t comment. His expression was… intense though, like he was looking right through Elliot, seeing all his soft spots.

Abruptly, Elliot realized that Nikolai was wearing short sleeves. Nikolai had only ever worn long sleeves in the time Elliot had been here, but now his scarred, muscular arms were on display.

Elliot couldn’t help looking at all the perfectly round, puckered burn marks that decorated Nikolai’s arms, his fury rising up as he thought about what he now knew of Nikolai’s father.

Nikolai had said he’d left his father’s house when he’d turned eighteen. So unless those burn marks were somehow from something else, and something in Elliot strongly doubted they were, Nikolai had been a child when—

Nikolai was still watching him, expression unreadable.

“Breakfast!” Elliot said too loudly and shrank down, before peeking back up at Nikolai. “Am—am I still allowed to make it?”

“If you’re still wanting to cook,” Nikolai said as he held the door open and gestured Elliot through.

“Yes, please.” His heart was still thumping in his ears, but as he headed toward the kitchen a lightness started spreading through him.

He’d told Nikolai the names of his stuffed animals and it had been fine. He’d even seemed interested? Or at least not upset about it.

“Very good,” Nikolai said. He was pleased? Maybe Elliot was just projecting though.

In the kitchen, all the ingredients were set out and ready. Elliot beamed and went to pull out mixing bowls and a pan, that familiar joy spreading through him as he got to work cooking for someone who wanted him to.

Nikolai took a seat at the counter bar with a coffee and watched, blue eyes intent and—interested?

“Do you, um, want to hear about crêpe making?” Elliot asked, maybe too hopefully. “Or—or I don’t have to talk, if you’d rather drink your coffee in peace.” He bit his lip and looked away. “I know I can be… too loud sometimes.”

Nikolai’s brow furrowed. But all he said was, “No biting. Should tell me about cooking instead.”

Elliot couldn’t help his bright smile. “Okay,” he said, and then he did.

***

“Before I take you back to room, I’m wanting to say about something.” Nikolai said, just as they were finishing up dinner that evening.

It had been a really good day. They’d had crêpes for breakfast, chicken caesar salad for lunch, and grilled salmon for dinner, all prepared by Elliot.

Nikolai had been complimentary over each meal, and Elliot thought he might burst from the warm feelings that had spread through him at the praise.

Even being in his room in between the meals hadn’t felt as hard.

He’d hugged Max and told him and Apricot about the food he’d made and what Nikolai had said he’d liked and had only felt somewhat childish about doing so.

He’d also planned out future meals with them, different things he thought Nikolai would maybe like to try, though that had dimmed his happiness some, since he knew his time to make food for Nikolai would probably be ending soon.

At least he’d had his puzzle books to further distract himself. Another kindness from Nikolai.

Now he sat up at attention. It was getting easier and easier to meet Nikolai’s eyes. “Okay.”

“Is about Vitale.” Nikolai's suddenly serious tone made Elliot’s heart skip.

“O-oh,” Elliot said. Maybe… maybe this was it. Nikolai was telling Elliot he would be going back.

His stomach roiled unhappily, and he had to swallow hard, trying to get it to settle.

“We heard rumors his family is not very much happy with him,” Nikolai continued.

“Since he still is not want to be smart, we contacted them to see if they would make deal with me instead. I have meeting with a cousin late tonight. So I’m wanting to tell you I will not be here, and if maybe there’s trouble tonight, someone else will bring you breakfast tomorrow, but do not be scared. ”

“Oh,” Elliot said again. Nikolai saying there might be trouble tonight with the meeting didn’t sound good at all.

Would Nikolai be in danger? What if he got hurt?

“Which cousin?” Elliot asked, a little desperately.

He’d met most of the big players in the family, even if he'd been too stupid at the time to realize what it was they actually did.

“Vicki Vitale,” Nikolai said.

Vicki? Elliot had met her a handful of times, though they’d barely said more than five words to each other.

She’d been like Nikolai actually, a shrewd gaze that seemed to see a lot more than she let on.

The first time they’d met, she’d looked Elliot up and down and obviously discarded him as unimportant.

She hadn’t made a snide comment to Mattia though, like some other members of the family had.

But he’d noticed at the family events that Vicki was a kind of epicenter. When people arrived, she was one of the first people who was greeted, was often the one everyone wanted to talk to.

He’d also noticed Mattia’s jealousy over it. Had heard his boyfriend mutter awful, offensive things about her regarding the way she’d “slept her way to the top.”

Elliot hadn’t liked the comments, even if he didn’t know Vicki. He’d just kept this mouth shut so Mattia’s anger wouldn’t manifest in his direction.

But he had no reason not to share all of that with Nikolai. So he did.

Nikolai nodded when he finished. “She’s very important for the Vitale family. Her and Mattia’s parents. I am hoping Vicki is smarter than Mattia’s parents. Maybe she’s will come to understanding with me.”

Elliot didn’t know what an understanding meant, and was afraid to ask.

Vicki had never seemed violent though. Elliot didn’t think he’d ever seen her lose her temper, even when on one occasion Mattia had “spilled” red wine on her pink dress.

She had raised an eyebrow at Mattia and then smiled with absolutely no warmth and said, in a voice that had carried across the room, “That’s my clumsy little cousin. Never change, darling.”

Mattia had seethed the rest of the evening.

“I hope she listens to you,” Elliot said. “And that no one has to get hurt.” He really, really hoped Nikolai didn’t get hurt.

There was silence as Elliot fiddled with his fork. Then Nikolai sighed. “I’m will say something maybe you don’t want to hear.”

Elliot licked his lips. “Okay.”

“Mattia Vitale is… not good man,” Nikolai said after another minute. He sounded like he was choosing his words carefully. “And maybe with his family not so happy with him, not so happy with how he runs his business, how he is act with me, maybe he is needing… permanent solution.”

Permanent solution. That—that had to mean only one thing.

Elliot ducked his head, heart squeezing.

Mattia hadn’t… hadn’t been the kindest to him, Elliot knew that.

And Mattia had hurt other people. Killed other people.

But still, thinking of Mattia being given a…

a “permanent solution” made his stomach hurt.

Thinking of Nikolai being the one to do it made it hard to breathe.

Nikolai, who said he didn’t kill anymore. Who hadn’t killed anyone since he was seventeen, forced into it by his fucking father.

What did it say about Mattia that Nikolai was willing to do something so drastic? So—permanent.

What did it say about Elliot that he didn’t want Nikolai to do it?

He felt pulled in two opposite directions, and painfully, viscerally guilty for sitting across the table from a man who—

Who wanted Mattia dead.

Not to mention that up until this conversation, Elliot had been having one of the best days he’d had in years.

“Okay,” he whispered.

“Maybe will be nothing,” Nikolai said after another minute. “Maybe Vicki Vitale will make Mattia change mind about being stupid.”

Elliot swallowed down bile. He knew there was no way Mattia would listen to Vicki. Getting Vicki involved would probably just make him angrier. And an angry Mattia hurt people. He hurt Elliot. He blew up buildings.

If Nikolai wanted Mattia dead, probably Mattia wanted Nikolai dead even more.

He blinked hard, trying to will away the tears.

Maybe if he’d been a better boyfriend, Mattia would have cared about him more.

Maybe Mattia would have been willing to make the deal Nikolai wanted, to get Elliot back.

Instead Elliot was here, utterly useless, and Mattia was no doubt furious, and Nikolai was contemplating something that would put him right in the line of fire.

Elliot didn’t want anyone to get hurt. But—and maybe this was proof he was a terrible person—he wanted Nikolai to walk away alive more than he wanted the man he’d been with for years to.

“I’m want to tell you in case anything goes wrong with Vicki,” Nikolai said, once it was clear that Elliot wasn’t going to say anything else. “Alex and Pyotr is coming with me, but Horace will be here.”

“Okay,” Elliot managed, though the word cracked in the middle.

Nikolai opened his mouth again, then closed it and nodded, getting up from the table and beginning to gather their empty plates. Elliot stood to help. After the table had been cleaned, the dirty dishes taken care of, they walked back down the hall toward Elliot’s room.

Nikolai opened the door, and Elliot hesitated before going inside. He turned to Nikolai. “Will you… will you be careful?”

Nikolai regarded him with those blue, blue eyes. “With Vitale?”

Elliot had to look away, dropping his gaze to the floor. He shook his head, biting his lip.

Gentle fingers touched under his chin, lifting his head up, and Elliot’s breath caught at the expression on Nikolai’s face. “No biting,” Nikolai said softly. “I will be being careful. Promise.”

“Okay,” Elliot said. “Thank you.”

Nikolai tilted his head toward the room. “Max and Apricot, they will keep you company, okay? And I’m will be back tomorrow, even if maybe not for breakfast. So you should not be worried.”