Page 17 of The Bratva's Christmas Bump
“For you to get ready?”
“Huh?” She spins on the spot. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
“This has to be believable and the outfit you’re wearing doesn’t scream pre-planned wedding, does it?”
“What are you, a wedding expert?” Her eyes narrow and she mutters something under her breath, then crosses her arms over her chest. “Fine. What is it?”
“This!” Xena pops up at my elbow, making me jump, and she holds one of the dancer costumes aloft. It’s a string of fabric barely constituting a dress, and I bite back my own surprise.
“You’re kidding.” Hollie’s face turns pale.
“It’s the most respectable thing we had,” Xena exclaims. “What, are you too good for it or something?”
“There’s no way inhellI’m wearing something like that!”
7
MAXIM
The struggle is evident on Hollie’s face but she has no choice. If I want my father to buy that she was my fiancée long before tonight, then this needs to look like a pre-planned ceremony, and part of that includes a different dress. If what Xena has brought can be classed as a dress. I can’t work out the shape from the fabric dangling from her fingers. She looks at me with a question in her eyes, so my lips twitch and I turn back to Hollie.
“Put the dress on.”
“No,” Hollie replies sullenly. “I’m not some toy for you to dress up.”
Snatching the fabric from Xena’s hand, I throw it in Hollie’s face and she catches it on reflex. “If you care about your family’s Thanksgiving not ending in a bloodbath, then you’ll put the damn dress on. Xena? Help her.”
With that, I storm out of the small room, leaving Stu guarding the door, and I don’t stop until I make it outside the chapel.
The cold air swirls around me like fog, icicles forming in my lungs as I breathe deeply, the chill creating an ache in my chest. Hands on my hips, I groan and briefly close my eyes.
“Maxim.” Rex’s voice appears beside me along with the familiar tang of cigarette smoke in the air. “You wanna explain to me what the hell you’re doing?”
Opening my eyes, I fix him with a glare. “I don’t have to explain anything.”
“Hey, I’m on your side!” He raises one hand in mock surrender, then with his cigarette balanced between two fingers, he taps my chest with his thumb. “But you’re spinning one hell of a lie here, and for what?”
The urge to lash out dies quickly, replaced by a numbness that weighs me down and slumps my stature. “I’m making it up as I go along.”
“Why do you want to save her so badly?”
“Do you really think I could continue to do what I do if I let my dad kill her? How can I preach that I do things differently if I let an innocent woman end up on the six o’clock news? All the women in our clubs would lose trust in me like that.” I snap my fingers in the brisk air. “And it’s already hanging by a thread after…” I can’t say their names. I should, but something about it makes my throat close up, so I look away toward the few stars fighting to be seen through the city’s light pollution.
“I get that.” Soft embers from his cigarette drift up into the air as he draws on it, followed by a cloud of smoke. “But marriage? That’s one hell of a way to save a life.”
“It was spur of the moment. I had only just got talking to her and he waltzed in with all these threats, and you know those two fucks he travels with?” I glance sidelong at Rex. “All I saw was that they now knew her face and no matter where we sent her, there’d be a chance that they found her. This way, she’s protected not just by us, but by our traditions. No one can hurt her.”
“And she can’t hurt you either.” He inhales deeply, ending his cigarette in a flare of gold. It slips from his fingers, and I watch it drift down onto the icy sidewalk.
“Exactly. Spousal privilege.”
“Listen.” Rex’s hand lands heavily on my shoulder. “We’re on your side, you know that. Even Stu, for all his idiotic actions. But you gotta keep us on the same page because your father will dig.”
“I know. I know. I’m sorry.”
“The world will weep tomorrow waking up to learn a Mafia prince got married at…” He checks his watch. “Five in the morning.”
“Romantic, right?”
