Page 66 of Pistols and Plush Toys

He was grateful to sit. His knees felt wobbly, and his balance was still off.

“You…” Elliot licked his lips. His voice was hoarse. “You didn’t have to come get me.”

“I could not leave you with him,” Nikolai said. He sounded angry, and Elliot shrank down. Then Nikolai said, much gentler, “I know you weren’t wanting to go back to him.”

Elliot squeezed the giraffe in his lap. “Is everything… okay?” He was afraid to ask, afraid to know, but it was all his fault so hehadto know.

“Is okay,” Nikolai said, kneeling down next to the bed. “Vitale…” his expression darkened. “He will not hurt you again.”

Elliot looked down to where his fingers were digging into the soft fur. It was easier than looking at Nikolai. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I’m so much trouble.”

“You’re not trouble,” Nikolai said firmly. And then, quieter, “I’m wanting you to be safe.”

Elliot swallowed and clutched at Apricot. He hadn’t felt safe in a long, long time.

There had been a few brief, bright moments in the previous week, when he’d been able to cook for Nikolai. But even then, Mattia had hung over Elliot’s head.

“Is… is Mattia…?”

“I’m dealing with him,” Nikolai said. “I—”

He tilted his head as if listening to something in his earpiece, then quickly pushed to his feet. Elliot watched him rise with wide, wet eyes.

“I’m wanting you to be safe,” Nikolai said again, gently touching Elliot’s shoulder. “I’m having to deal with this now, but I will be back.”

He turned and walked toward the door, glancing back over his shoulder. “Don’t—don’t leave the property. Please.”

And then he was striding from the room.

He didn’t shut or lock the door behind him.

***

Nikolai had left the door open when he’d left, but after several long minutes of just sitting there, staring at nothing, Elliot had to get up and close the door. The open doorway made him nervous.

A closed door wouldn’t do much to keep someone out, if Mattia sent another man to drag Elliot away, but it… it was something.

There was nothing to do in the room, but he did have access to the en suite bathroom, so he spent some time washing his face and feet in the sink with the hand soap. He didn’t have his toothbrush or shower supplies, and while he—he knew hecould probably gogetthem, Elliot couldn’t bring himself to leave the bedroom.

In the end, he curled up in bed with Apricot and fell into an exhausted, fitful sleep.

Sometime later, a soft knock on the door woke him. He startled awake, fear jammed in his throat.

It took precious seconds to remember where he was.

“Come in,” Elliot croaked, once everything came crashing back to him. He wasn’t at Mattia’s anymore. Nikolai—

Nikolai had spirited him away.

“Sorry,” Nikolai said as he eased the door open, as if unsure of his welcome. “You were sleeping? I wanted to—you should be having dinner.”

“‘S okay,” Elliot mumbled, sitting up and wiping the sleep from his eyes. His one eye still hurt to touch, and he winced. Despite the sleep, he was exhausted.

Then he remembered what had been happening before he’d been left alone.

“Is everything… okay?” Elliot asked. He couldn’t voice the question he really wanted to ask.

Is Mattia dead?

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