Page 166 of Pistols and Plush Toys

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 thatbitchVicki. 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?”

---