Page 55 of The Bratva's Christmas Bump
“A favor? You’re kidding me, right? He commits God knows how many crimes, the abduction of me, for one, and you think he’s done me a favor?”
“If it’s so bad, why are you still here?” she challenges sharply. “The door’s right there, chick.”
“Don’t act like you don’t know,” I sneer. “A man like that threatening my family? What am I supposed to do?”
Xena stares at me with wide eyes for a moment, then she bursts into loud laughter so suddenly that I jump. I don’t understand. What was it I said that was so funny?”
“Oh, chick, now I know you ain’t got your head screwed on right.” Xena giggles.
This can’t be happening. Am I the only one who sees Maxim for what he really is? Does he have all his employees so completely disillusioned about what kind of man he really is?
“What would you know,” I mutter dejectedly as a chill sweeps down my arms. “You’re just a?—”
“A what?” Xena interrupts sharply. “A bartender? A dancer? Astripper? Is that what your issue is, chick? Are you too prim and proper that a woman taking her clothes off is the worst thing she can do?”
“For money? It’s not exactly admirable.”
“Says who, the Puritans controlling the media making you think anything sexy is bad and just for men?” Xena scoffs as if she’s trying to remove something from her throat. “That’s fucking bullshit. Look around, Hollie. What do you see?”
Glancing over my shoulder, I take in the heaving crowd, the sparkling stages, the gleaming poles, and the beautiful women in various states of undress and dancing and grinding like they’re fucking someone invisible that I can’t see.
“I see a strip club,” I murmur. “I’m not judging, this just isn’t my scene.”
“Your scene,” Xena scoffs. “You really are something. Never saw Maxim settling down with someone so stuck up.”
“Maybe he shouldn’t have murdered someone right in front of me, then, should he?” My heart pounds and my skin grows hot. Why do I feel like I’m the one on trial here? Like Maxim is some good person and I’m the evil one for witnessing what I did.
Xena sighs and leans her elbow onto the bar. “You see the girl in blue with the black hair?” She points, and I follow her finger. “She has three kids at home. Two years ago, she was on the streets caring more about heroin than her kids. Maxim found her and brought her here, worked with her to get her clean. Now she works her own hours, takes home thousands of dollars a night, owns her own apartment, and got her kids back from the state. That girl in gold? She worked street corners to pay for the hospital bills drowning her sickly father. Maxim stepped in and paid for everything when he found her. Now her father’s got a new lease on life and she’s back in college training to be a nurse.”
“So, what, Maxim is some kind of savior? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?” It’s difficult keeping the snark out of my tone.
“The girl in red? She was fresh out of school and spent her first night in a whorehouse. One of Maxim’s guys found her and brought her here. Maxim put her back in education and paid for it all. When she graduated, she wanted to work here.”
“To pay him back?”
“No, chick. Because she loves to dance and feel sexy. She has her own makeup line and never has to worry about bills ever again.”
I turn back on my stool and stare at Xena. “Doing good deeds doesn’t justify murder,” I say. “And are these women even free?”
“Girl!” Xena laughs loudly. “We work the hours we want, we rake in the cash. I’m a shareholder in this club. What, just because this place isn’t accommodatingnunsdoesn’t make me any less of a businesswoman. You’re judging me and them for taking our clothes off without asking if that’s what we want to do. You have no idea how empowering it is to be on that stage, dancing your heart out knowing you’re gonna make enough that you never have to put yourself down to afford a bill ever again.”
My cheeks flame. She makes a good point, but no matter what Maxim does to help the people in his employ, what I saw doesn’t change. And what he did to me doesn’t change either.
“Nancy!” Xena stands on her tiptoes all of a sudden and waves over a woman dressed in a silky shawl. “Nancy, come here a sec.”
Nancy joins us at the bar, languidly stretching over it and yawning. “What?”
“This is Hollie. Maxim’s wife.”
“Wow,” Nancy drawls softly. “Lucky.”
“She doesn’t think so,” Xena replies.
Nancy frowns at me. “What?”
“I saw him kill someone, murder him in cold blood, and then he kidnapped me and forced me to marry him to keep me quiet. Your so-calledsaviorMaxim is a monster.”
Nancy stares at me and then slowly smirks. “Now it makes sense.”
