Page 15 of Pistols and Plush Toys

Was this Nikolai's… actualhome?

It couldn’t be. Why would he have brought Elliot here?

Then suddenly, they were at the front door. Nikolai paused only a second at the threshold and then opened the door, stepping out to hold it for Elliot. It was a bright, clear sky morning, and seeing it threw him. He had just enough time to look beyond Nikolai at the vast landscaping before the man was down the steps.

There was a sleek, black car waiting in front, at the top of the long driveway.

Nikolai opened the back door of the car and then looked up at Elliot expectantly. A shiver went up his spine, but he started toward the car anyway like a dead man going to the gallows. The rocks lining the paved drive bit into his socked feet, and he had a brief, insane thought that he could make a run for it. He was outside, and maybe if he was quick enough—

But no. Elliot had no idea what protected this estate, or how many of Nikolai's men were out there. He wasn’t even wearing shoes. If he ran, it was almost a guarantee he’d be caught, and then what? Nikolai had been extremely clear with him that there would be repercussions if he were difficult.

And Elliot was a coward. He didn’t want to be hurt, didn’t want to make it worse for himself. Nikolai could be taking him for torture right now, but on the offchance that he was telling the truth about Elliot’s cooperation…

He got in the car.

It was a strange replay of the day before to be scooting in across the plush, leather seats. The car even smelled the same, that rich leather scent beneath the faint trace of some deep,cognac cologne that Nikolai wore. Elliot hadn’t recognized it before, but some part of his brain had clocked the scent and paired it to the man when he’d been closely menacing yesterday. It was such a stupid thing for his brain to pick out when it could have been focused onliterally anything else to help him get out of this situation.

Then Nikolai was sliding into the car after him and pulling the door shut with a soft click. There was no running now, Elliot had made his choice. It was him and Nikolai and whoever was driving, obscured behind the privacy glass.

“Ah. Almost forget,” Nikolai said. Before Elliot could turn or wonder what the comment was about, everything went dark.

He made a pathetic shriek of alarm as he realized a black bag had been put back over his head. Automatically Elliot went to reach to take it off. Nikolai caught his hands.

“Leave it,” Nikolai barked. “Or I’m will zip tie you again.”

His hands were huge, easily engulfing Elliot’s, holding him still as if it cost nothing. His heart fluttered like a trapped hummingbird, overwrought with terror. His whole body was frozen, afraid that any movement might further anger the man.

Then Nikolai squeezed at his wrists and slowly eased away. It was a warning, an unspoken,be good.

There was nothing Elliot wanted more. He’d do anything to get through this unscathed. He wasn’t defiant or brave. He wasn’t one who would endure torture or pain with a straight face. He’d never been hard like that. He’d be good, if only because that was all he’d ever strived to be, for all that he was terrible at it.

He hated fucking up, hated upsetting people, and apparently that went for his kidnapper too.

There was a sharp rap on the glass, and Elliot jumped. The car started to pull away from the curb.

Where were they going? He was being taken to another location, which couldn’t be good. Useless tears welled in his eyes again, and he was almost grateful to have the privacy of the bag to hide them. He bit his lip hard to keep the sobs in. Quiet. He needed to stayquiet.

Sometimes that made things hurt less.

Elliot felt the car slow at the front gates as it had on the way in. He heard a distant sound of metal sliding open. Some words in what he assumed were Russian were exchanged.

This was exactly why there was no point in running. If Nikolai was anywhere as competent as Mattia, there’d be no simple escape. Men like Mattia left nothing to chance when it came to something they wanted.

He had no idea how long they drove for, making turns that meant nothing to Elliot. He had no idea where Nikolai's house was, so had no idea where they were going in relation to it. He just tried to pay attention to the movement of the car, because staying focused on it was the only thing keeping him from spiraling worse than he already was.

But then the car finally stopped, engine turning off. The fear tripped over itself as he heard the car door open. Something grabbed him, a hand reaching to take his own and help him out of the car, but Elliot still jolted in surprise, a humiliating whimper escaping him.

Nikolai sighed, as if Elliot was annoying him. “I’m telling you, cooperate and you will be fine. Calm down.”

That was an impossible task. Still, when Nikolai urged him out of the car, Elliot went, managing to follow blindly and swallow down further cries. As he got to his feet, his other hand was taken as well, forcing Elliot to be steady in his strong grip. He wasn’t going to trip with Nikolai holding him up, but it didn’t do anything for the way Elliot’s heart was threatening to jump out of his chest in fear.

Where were they? What was about to happen?

Nikolai guided him forward across pavement that was hard and cold under his feet, his socks as the only barrier against the cement, and it made him feel worse. Like he’d been stripped in a way he hadn’t been yesterday. Bared in a way that made tears run faster down his cheeks.

Nikolai stopped and there was a rush of air, a door opening. Then the man guided Elliot forward again. Their steps across the floor sounded hollow, as though whatever building they were in was empty. The air was still and cold, smelling of moisture and green decomposition.

Elliot’s mind jumped to every crime story he’d ever seen online. To the kinds of run down, secondary locations where bodies were disposed of. Oh god, oh god, was that what this was? Had Nikolai brought him here to die?

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