Page 71 of Pistols and Plush Toys

Meredith:Done. Let me know if you need anything else.

Nikolai didn’t bother responding to that. Instead, he pushed away from his desk and went to get cleaned up.

In the hour it took to get the delivery, Nikolai showered, shaved, and got dressed. His body was creaky as he padded to the front of the house. It had been a minute since he’d made time to use his gym, and he could feel it in his back.

It had been a minute since he’d made it to the shooting range too. He didn’t think he was rusty, but then again, he also considered himself in good physical shape.

Hm.

Pyotr met him at the front door with food and two additional bags.

“Thank you,”Nikolai said as he took the bags off of Pyotr.

“That is what you pay me for, Boss.”

“You okay? Need anything?”Nikolai asked, looking over the large bandage on Pyotr’s forehead.

Pyotr shook his head.“I’m good. Just a couple of stitches.”

Nikolai nodded.“When this whole thing with Vitale is fucking finished, I’m taking us on a vacation.”

Pyotr snorted, but he looked pleased.“Somewhere warm?”

“Somewhere warm,”Nikolai confirmed, before giving Pyotr another nod and stepping back inside the house. Pyotr turned and headed back toward the front gate where he was stationed today.

Yeah, Nikolai thought as he took the bags to the kitchen, after all of this was done, he needed a vacation. Somewhere sunny and warm with drinks so sweet Meredith would frown at him. Did Elliot like the beach?

He’d have to ask.

***

Nikolai left their breakfast on the kitchen table and took the other two bags to Elliot’s room. It was after eight, and he knew that Elliot was usually up by now.

He knocked gently on the door and got permission to enter.

Elliot was still in bed, still in his pajamas, hair mussed from sleep. Apricot was beside him, tucked into the blankets. He looked soft, cozy.

The only thing that threw off the picture was the lurid purple around his eye and the terrible bruising that formed a ring around his throat.

Nikolai bit down the rage at seeing it, and the desire to wringVitale’sfucking neck. To make Vitale intimately understand how being choked felt.

“Good morning,” Nikolai said, trying to sound mild as he walked over to the dresser. He put both bags down there. “I’m bring you new phone. Breakfast is waiting too, but first—” he took a breath. “First I’m want to know how you’re hurt.”

Then he had to watch Elliot shrink into himself, hands clutching at his covers.

“You don’t have to show me,” Nikolai rushed to say. “But I’m would like my doctor to see you.”

“Now?” Elliot asked, voice wavering.

“Later,” Nikolai said. “After breakfast?”

Elliot looked away, ruddy color blooming across his cheeks. “I–I don’t know.”

Nikolai shifted his weight from one foot to the other. It was a difficult subject, and one Elliot shouldn’t have to talk to Nikolai—a near stranger—about, but Nikolai was the oneherenow.

Nikolai was the one in charge of taking care of him.

“Vitale hurt you.” Statement, not question. “And I’m just thinking, maybe doctor—”

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