Page 62 of The Bratva's Christmas Bump
“Things are moving fast there, aren’t they?”
There it is. The real reason he’s here. I knew he didn’t just drop by to talk about decorations. Not that I can blame him. Swiveling to face him, I lean my elbows on the counter across from him and hug my mug with both hands. “When you know, you know.”
“In all my years on the force, a fast marriage like that is rarely a good sign.”
“You worry too much, Dad.”
“Your Mom worries too. She says she saw what she thought was a bruise under your eye when you were with us for decorating.”
I freeze. I’d used all the makeup I had available to cover myself up for going outside after Stu hit me and Maxim’s father tried to kill me. I had no idea she noticed.
“I’m fine, Dad.”
“Are you?” He squints at me. “I’ve been on the force for a long time, Hollie. I’ve seen a lot of things.”
“I know you have.”
“Just say the word and you’ll never see him again.”
His offer is as warm as his words, and my heart swells at the concern flooding his eyes. For every day my mother has volunteered or signed me up for something against my knowledge, my father has been there to help me through it and sneak me something to keep my spirits up.
He looks out for me.
But it’s my turn to look out for him.
Maxim’s father won’t forget what I saw, and I don’t doubt his reach. My marriage to Maxim extends protection to my parents, and it’s the only way to keep them safe.
“I love you, Dad. And I love that you look out for me. The bruise Mom saw was from work. An unruly guest was mad at what he had to pay for drinks and I was in the firing line.”
His eyes narrow. “And you didn’t call the cops?”
“It was Thanksgiving. I was more concerned about having a bruise on my eye in my wedding pictures than anything else. It happens a lot, you know. New York isn’t that safe.”
“How often?”
“Not to me!” I assure him with a laugh, taking his hand. “I just mean in general.”
He doesn’t look entirely convinced, but it’s enough for him to agreeably change topics. We talk about Christmas and Mom, her plans for Christmas dinner, and her not-so-subtle way of asking me to play at New Year’s for her friends. She just wants to show me off. I suspect she’s just trying to find ways to persuade me to stay, like she’s done ever since I mentioned leaving the States.
That dream isn’t dead, it’s just on pause. I’m not sure where my future can lead with a Mafia prince shackled to me.
By the time Dad leaves, night has fallen. I’ll need to explain all of this to Maxim and find a polite way to tell my parents where I live now. It feels like too big a bombshell to drop after the wedding.
“How is your father?” Toto asks as I approach the car.
“He’s fine. Concerned.”
“Why?”
“Stu gave me a black eye, remember?”
Toto winces. “That’s why he avoids you.”
“Is he scared of me?”
Toto shrugs. “More upset by what he did. He’ll apologize when he’s made peace with himself.”
“Good for him.” As I’m climbing into the car, my phone buzzes to life once more. This time, it’s Tiffany.
