Page 35 of Pistols and Plush Toys

“Really?” Elliot asked hopefully.

“So long as you still cooperate,” Nikolai said. “I’m can make it so you are less bored.”

“I don’t think I really have it in me to try anything to escape,” Elliot said quietly. Nikolai wouldn’t believe him, but he said it anyway.

“I think I’m agree,” Nikolai said. It sounded almost like a compliment.

The timer went off to flip the fries, so Elliot did. He reset the timer, and then Nikolai gestured them around to the kitchen island to where there were bar stool seats.

“So,” Nikolai said after they’d sat. “Puzzles? What kind?”

That gave Elliot pause. The last people he’d ever talked puzzles with had been his old group of friends. Mattia knew that he was constantly going through puzzle books, but Elliot tried not to draw attention to it if he could help it. They were things that filled his alone hours when Mattia was out, and he wasn’t eager to chance Mattia choosing to take them away.

“Sort of anything,” Elliot made himself say. Nikolai had asked, after all. And while the man could very well take away the battered, half-filled-out puzzle book that Elliot currently had in his possession, that didn’t seem to be his intention behind asking. “I like crossword and sudoku best, but I also play stuff like Words with Friends and Wordle and Letter Boxed on my phone. Really anything. I just like puzzling things out.”

“Not the…” Nikolai paused, thinking. “The puzzles with the little pieces that make picture?”

Elliot grinned. “No, not that kind of puzzle. The thinking kind.”

“Do you do New York Times crossword?”

“On my phone, yeah,” Elliot said. “I was on a streak with it, but…” He trailed off awkwardly. That—that definitely was over. He hadn’t had access to his phone since he’d been kidnapped, so all of his streaks were over.

It was the least important thing about his situation, but he still felt sad thinking about it now. He didn’t have a lot of his own things living with Mattia, but his puzzles and games had been something.

Nikolai frowned. “I cannot give you your phone.”

“No!” Elliot rushed to say. “No, I-I understand. I wasn’t–sorry.” He bit his lip. Immediately let it go.

But Nikolai was still looking at him, expression troubled. Then he pulled out his phone and began typing.

“It is Sunday today. I can get you paper.”

“Oh, I mean—” Elliot swallowed. “That’s okay.”

Nikolai shrugged. “Is fine to give you the paper. I’m not knowing how much longer you will have to stay.”

Elliot sat with that statement, trying to decide whether or not he should ask. Finally, he decided that if Nikolai didn’t want to answer the question, he could just ignore it. “Are… negotiations not going well?”

Nikolai shoved his phone back in his pocket. “Vitale, he is… being difficult.”

Elliot didn’t know how to feel about that. He hadn’t really expected Mattia to jump to his rescue, but he had stupidly assumed there would be some sort of urgency. Mattia had been protective of him in a way that had led Elliot to think he’d at least dosomethingto get him back.

But maybe his affections really had waned that much. Maybe Elliot wasn’t worth enough to give up whatever Nikolai was asking for.

That… didn’t feel great. His stomach dropped, and a burn started behind his eyes. Fuck, he was not going to cry here, not now.

Nikolai cleared his throat and purposefully wasn’t looking at him. “For now, I can be giving you more things to do. You can have pen for your puzzle book. And if you’re wanting more to cook, give me lists and I’m will order ingredients for you.”

“Okay,” Elliot said thickly. He shoved away the thought of Mattia, trying to focus on what Nikolai was offering. There were worse ways to spend captivity than doing puzzles and cooking.

There were certainly worse captors to have than Nikolai, as it turned out.

Before the timer went off, Alex strode into the kitchen. His sudden appearance made Elliot jump, but Alex didn’t even look at him—just thrust a newspaper at Nikolai. Nikolai thanked him, and he quickly went back out.

It was the New York Times, the Sunday edition.

Elliot turned away from it as the timer went off, glad to have something to do to distract himself from the way his throat tightened and his lip trembled.

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