Page 56 of Pistols and Plush Toys

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.”

New emotion threatened Elliot with more tears, at Nikolai acknowledging the stuffed toys. Atacceptingthem, saying they could keep Elliot company without a speck of derision.

“Okay,” Elliot said again, around a clogged throat, stepping backwards into the bedroom. “Thank you.”

“Sleep well, Elliot,” Nikolai said. And he closed the door.

***

Elliot was jolted awake by the sound of his door flying open with force, banging into the wall. It took a heart pounding few seconds to shake sleep, but just as he was blinking at the figure silhouetted from the hallway, the overhead light flashed on and Elliot had to shield his face, his eyes burning.

Heavy footsteps crashed toward him and someone tore the blanket away.

“Get up!” a voice barked.

It wasn’t Nikolai. His heartbeat tripled, everything going woozy as his body tried to catch up. It wasn’t Nikolai, because Nikolai was gone. Out. He’d left someone to take care of Elliot in his place. He said it was–

“Horace?” Elliot said, tongue clumsy from both sleep and new fear. “Did—did something happen—”

“It’sHoratio,” the man said with angry emphasis. He muttered something in another language. Not—not Russian. “Get up, we don’t have a lot of time.”

A big hand wrapped around Elliot’s arm even as he reared back, instinctively grabbing at the blankets. Horatio yanked him out of the bed, the blanket and pillows spilling out behind Elliot onto the floor.

Elliot almost fell in his disorientation. “What—what’s going on?” He tried, stumbling after Horatio as he was dragged forward, toward the door. “Is Nikolai okay?”

“I work for Mattia,” Horatio sneered. “I’m here to take you home.”

“W-what?” Dread dropped straight through him. Out of instinct, Elliot tried to pull away, but Horatio’s grip was iron.

“What’re you, stupid? We have to go,” the man snapped, yanking him forward.

Fear wrapped its claws around Elliot’s throat and instead of going quietly, he flailed backward.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Horatio snarled, catching his other arm and shaking him hard. “We have to go!”

Elliot didn’t want to go back to Mattia. Hedidn’t want to go back to Mattia.

Desperation made him struggle in the hold. “No,” he gasped.“No!”

Horatio backhanded him. “Shut the fuck up! We don’t have time for this.”

The sudden violence stunned him, and stark terror flooded through him because Elliot—he wasn’t strong enough. He was alone with Horatio and hewasn’t strong enough,and if Mattia had tasked Horatio to bring Elliot back to him, Horatio was going to drag Elliot back no matter what. There was nowhere for Elliot to go to be safe from him, and fighting more, struggling more, would just make Horatio angrier.

He was willing to hit Elliot, which meant that Mattia hadn’t told him not to.

What else was Horatio willing and allowed to do?

What else did Mattia think Elliot deserved?

The fight drained out of him, leaving him cold in its wake. Numb.

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