Page 73 of Pistols and Plush Toys

The men who had surrounded them forced them forward, toward a plain black car, and Elliot’s throat closed up as he watched them shove Nikolai into the vehicle.

Visceral, acrid terror suffused his whole body. Because Elliot had no doubt these were Mattia’s men.

Mattia was going to kill Nikolai. And it was all Elliot’s fault.

Elliot was manhandled into the car after Nikolai, and a man with bushy mustache grabbed his hands and zip-tied his wrists tightly together. Another man grabbed the phone out of Elliot’s pocket.

He turned his eyes to Nikolai, only to find him sitting across from him, face set like stone, while a man with a goatee pressed a gun to his temple. Mustache turned to Nikolai next, pulling out a pair of metal cuffs and cuffed Nikolai’s hands behind his back.

All the while, Nikolai’s expression didn’t change.

Elliot bit his lip hard, trying to keep the sobs in. This was all Elliot’s fault. They wouldn’t have even been out to breakfast today if Nikolai hadn’t been feeling guilty about pulling Elliot into his life. If Elliot had just said something sooner, had been brave and told Nikolai how he felt…

Maybe they wouldn’t be here in this car surrounded by men with guns.

Maybe they wouldn’t be on their way to Mattia.

Elliot didn’t think that Mattia would kill him. He’d… he’d make things hurt, but he didn’t think Mattia wanted him dead. But Nikolai—

Mattia would take pleasure in hurting Nikolai before killing him. Elliot knew that down to his bones.

Two men slid into the front seats of the car and then the car slid away from the curb.

As they drove through the city, car silent, Elliot tried to pull his panicked thoughts together in a bid to keep from breaking down.

He didn’t want to give these men the satisfaction of seeing him cry.

He knew this type, purposefully cruel, because Mattia was cut from the same cloth.

He didn’t want to give them reason to hurt Nikolai before…

Before…

No. Think!

Usually they had security with them when they went out, but today Nikolai had driven himself. Was anyone aware they’d been kidnapped? Was anyone… coming to save them? Today’s outing had been unplanned, but had Nikolai told someone where they were going?

He remembered the phone call. Nikolai had told Gerard he would be coming to him. Gerard would have to get suspicious when Nikolai didn’t show up, right?

But would that be too late?

No. No—if Gerard would be coming for them, then… then Elliot would just need to buy some time. He’d need to keep the focus away from Nikolai long enough for a rescue.

Elliot swallowed. He could do that. He could throw himself at Mattia’s feet and beg, as long as it saved Nikolai in the end. Elliot knew what Mattia liked. There were… there were lots of ways he could distract Mattia, please him, and keep his attention away from Nikolai and wanting to hurt him.

If he hurt Elliot instead, then… that—that would be okay.

By the time the car pulled to a stop, Elliot’s hands were shaking. Through the dark glaze of the window he could see they were in the parking lot of some abandoned business. It was still early morning, the sun bright and shining.

He dared another glance at Nikolai, but Nikolai’s face was cold and blank. Emotionless. His gaze didn’t so much as flicker in Elliot’s direction.

Elliot went back to staring at his hands, eyes hot.

He knew that Nikolai had to be sinking into himself, bracing for pain.

Elliot had done the same thing himself dozens of times with Mattia.

But Elliot hated seeing Nikolai like this.

Hated that Mattia would be hurting someone else, someone who Elliot cared so much about.

The car parked and Mustache got out and opened the back door. Goatee forced Nikolai out of the car, gun pressed between his shoulder blades. Mustache shoved Elliot forward, and Elliot went without fuss, stumbling as he exited the car, unused to moving without his hands for balance.

Sick dread churned in his stomach as they were led in the side door of the building. The pounding of Elliot’s heart was so loud he was certain everyone could hear it.

He hadn’t seen Mattia since—since the apartment.

Focus. He couldn’t fall apart here. He needed to be able to… to look at Mattia and pretend. Pretend that Mattia was all Elliot wanted. Pretend that Mattia was all Elliot needed.

At least Mattia probably wouldn’t mind the fear on his face. Might even revel in it, as Elliot debased himself at Mattia’s feet.

They were marched through a long hallway, through the factory floor, and then to some back offices. The entire building had the feeling of abandonment, with broken equipment and dust everywhere.

More of Mattia’s men were back here, all rough looking Italians with guns. Elliot didn’t recognize any of them though.

Then, out of one of the offices, stepped Mattia.

Elliot swallowed hard. That cruel smirk was all too familiar.

“Hey there baby, miss me?” Mattia sauntered forward, twirling a knife between his fingers. “I sure missed you.”

Elliot bit his lip on the horrible sound that wanted to spring free. The knife was right out of his nightmares, and he couldn’t look away from it.

Mattia approached slowly, looking him up and down in a way that made Elliot’s skin crawl.

Some of the men around them shuffled uncomfortably at that, but said nothing.

“I missed you so much, El, but now that I think about it, I’ve seen some photos that say you haven’t missed me.

That you forgot what I told you last time.

About what I’d do if this man ever touched you again.

” Mattia gestured to the room behind him with his knife.

“Guess I’d better make good on my word. Take him back so we can get started. ”

Goatee jabbed at Nikolai’s back with his gun, forcing him forward. No, no, no.

Distract him. Buy more time.

“Can I—” Elliot forced himself to say the words, to look right at Mattia. To walk toward him, pleading. “C-can I be there, Matty?”

“Be there?” Mattia asked, brows going up before his eyes narrowed again. “What’s that mean, El?”

“I-I want to watch,” Elliot stammered, almost unable to hear himself over the pounding in his ears. “P-please Matty? He–he kidnapped me. And… and hurt me. S-so can I watch? Please?”

Mattia grinned, wide and deranged, and turned to one of the men beside him. “Didn’t I tell you? This fucking stronzo made him do it. My baby is loyal.”

Out of his peripherals Elliot could see a few of the men doubted that just by their body language, but he kept his focus on Mattia. It didn’t matter what the rest of them thought.

He only needed to convince Mattia.

“Boss?” Someone asked, stilted, like they wanted to say more but weren't sure if it would be welcome.

“H-he stole me from you,” Elliot said, softer, like a confession. He blinked hard to force the welled tears to fall. Mattia always liked it when he cried. “He hurt me and I-I didn’t have a choice. I tried Matty, I tried s-so hard to get away. But he… he…”

Elliot let out the wounded sound that had been trying to escape since they’d been surrounded at the restaurant. He’d never been a liar or strong actor, but Mattia was nodding, like he believed every word.

“Don’t worry El,” he said, with a wide, crazed grin. “He’ll pay for it. And then you’ll be all mine. Won’t you, baby?”

In his right mind, Mattia shouldn’t have been buying this. He wasn’t stupid. What had happened since the last time Elliot had seen him? Why was he so willing to believe Elliot’s sob story?

Whatever the reason, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that he was buying Elliot’s story.

Which meant that… that Elliot might be able to keep buying time.

“I’m yours, Matty,” he said, tears dripping down his cheeks.

“So… so please? I-I want to be there. When you take care of him. I need to know that h-he’ll never hurt me again. ”

Mattia grabbed Elliot’s wrist and held up the knife. It took everything inside Elliot not to flinch away, even as his heart tumbled in fear.

“You still my baby?” Mattia asked. There was a wild look in his eyes that Elliot didn’t think he’d ever seen before.

He nodded, desperate to be convincing. More tears streamed down his cheeks. “A-always,” he said, breathy and terrified and trying to play it off as adoration. “I love you.” The words were like bile, acidic and all wrong, but he did his best to say them with sweetness. The way he’d once meant them.

The knife was brought down and Mattia cut his wrist ties apart, the plastic dropping to the dirty office floor. A second later one of Mattia’s big hands grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking him forward.

Elliot pushed down every part of him that wanted to revolt and pull away. Instead, he leaned in. Nikolai was going to die here if he didn’t sell this before they were rescued.

He hoped the catch of a sob that escaped just before their lips met sounded like a moan.

He kissed Mattia. Kissed him and poured all his desperation and fear into the kiss. There were small murmurs around him from Mattia’s men, some of them obviously wanting to call bullshit on Elliot’s performance.

Elliot needed to sell this so that no matter what they said next, Mattia wouldn’t listen.

He had to fight down the shudder of revulsion as Mattia opened his mouth and slipped his tongue in, but Elliot didn’t fight or pull away despite how his instincts were screaming at him to do so.

Instead, he pulled on their years of history, on the muscle memory of kissing this man, and let Mattia take whatever he wanted.

After what seemed like an eternity, Mattia finally pulled away and released his hair.

Elliot looked up at him and sucked in a trembling breath. Tried not to crumble.

“Alright El,” Mattia said, smugly pleased. “If you want to see me take care of business for you, you can.”

“Boss, I don’t think–” One of the men started.

“I don’t pay you to think,” Mattia snapped.

He had his arm around Elliot now, and was starting to guide him toward the room.

Elliot pulled in tiny sips of air and leaned into the embrace.

“I pay you to shoot,” Mattia continued. “Isn’t that right?

” He looked back over his shoulder at whoever had spoken, menace in every syllable.

The other man said nothing.

“Good,” Mattia snarled. “So keep watch and take care of anybody that shows up. I want to enjoy this.”

Elliot saw the men sharing glances, and he reached down and took Mattia’s hand. “Thank you, Matty,” he made himself say, covering the mutters in their wake.

Then they had reached the room Nikolai had been taken to and they were stepping through the door.

Elliot took it all in at a glance. The room had once been a boardroom maybe, and it still had a long table on one side and the space for presentations at the other end.

Everything was dated and sagging now, half the chairs broken, and a number of ceiling tiles had smashed on the floor.

One of the intact chairs had been pulled to the front of the table.

That was where Nikolai was now sitting, handcuffed and waiting.

Mattia shut the door behind them, and Elliot took another look around the room. The door they’d just come through was the only way in and out.

Mattia gestured at the board room table. “Have a seat baby,” he said as he let Elliot go and gave him a gentle shove.

Elliot shuffled toward the table, but took the first chair closest to Nikolai, mind racing.

He’d stalled Mattia a little while they were out in the main room, but Nikolai was so vulnerable to him like this.

Elliot needed to buy more time. He needed—he needed to occupy Mattia’s attention another way.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, what could he do?

“So here we are at last Tkachenko.” Mattia said as he turned to walk up to Nikolai. “Thought you could run me out of my home, my family? You and that bitch Vicki. I’ve got something for her next.” Mattia flipped the knife meaningfully in his hand.

Nikolai was stone faced, eyes on Mattia. He didn’t even look at the knife.

“You think you’re so fucking smart,” Mattia clipped. “Such an upstanding guy, huh? Love to pretend you’re above all of this, but how’s your daddy’s business doing? Not so upstanding there, are you?”

Nikolai said nothing.

“I suppose he’ll have to find someone new after this,” Mattia said, drawing the blade right up under Nikolai's throat, touching the sharp end to his pulse point. Elliot’s heart rate shot up.

No. He needed to do something before he watched Nikolai get killed in front of him.

“You’re talking so much,” Nikolai said, sounding bored. “Maybe is why your family thinks Vicki is better for business.”

Elliot shrank back in his seat on instinct, expecting the blow-up before it even happened.

“You shut the fuck up!” Mattia roared, and swung on him, punching Nikolai in the face with his free hand. Nikolai’s head snapped to the side with the force of it, but his expression stayed the same; flat and cold and empty.

“Think you’re so smart,” Mattia sneered, fisting his hand in Nikolai’s hair and yanking his head back. Elliot bit down the high, wounded sound as the knife was pressed to Nikolai’s throat. “But who’s laughing now, Tkachenko? Who’s the pig sitting in a chair about to get carved up for dinner?”

Elliot saw the nightmare behind his eyes, felt the helpless swell of fear, the clog in his throat.

No, no, no! He couldn’t — couldn’t let this happen!

“M-Matty,” Elliot burst out, shoving to his feet. A desperate thought had come to him. “Matty, I…” Elliot paused, trying to conjure a teasing, playful tone. There was one thing that Mattia always wanted him for, one last thing he could try. “Could he just… sit tight a minute?”

Mattia’s attention had turned to him, but now he was frowning. Suspicious.

“Sit tight? For fucking what?” He snarled.

Elliot pushed forward, stepping closer to Mattia, making his eyes big, his expression as soft and pleading as he could.

Mattia had always found him pretty, and he hoped that was still true.

“I-I just mean that I missed you, Matty. It’s…

it’s been so long. He kept me from you, even when I tried to get away. ”

Elliot swallowed down bile, on the dizzying wave of nausea spreading through him at the thought of what came next. He could do this. He could do this. If it meant saving Nikolai, he could do this.

Close enough now, he dropped to his knees, looking up at Mattia through his eyelashes. Mattia had always said they were pretty, always liked seeing him on his knees. He licked his lips, hoping the shaking in his hands wasn’t too visible.

“Can I show you how much I missed you, Matty?”