Page 85 of The Bratva's Christmas Bump
A lie would be easiest here. I could spin the tale that we met and fell in love so quickly, echoing the lie she told her parents back when we first met but that lie is only enough to satisfy her mother. Martin isn’t going to let this go, and I get the impression he’s more understanding.
“Our marriage saved her life,” I say carefully. “She’s not in trouble anymore.”
Martin’s eyes narrow. “Why would you do that? I know how marriage works for you lot. It’s human trafficking and you can’t tell me otherwise. Marrying people for business deals… how did this happen?” His mouth twists to the side. “She’s a musician. She’s floaty and reckless, but how did she end up on your radar?”
“She saw something that put her in danger and I saved her.”
Martin leans away from the table. “Why?”
The complicated truth swirls in my chest like a fog, but before I can answer, Susan bustles into the kitchen.
“Martin! Stop hiding in here and go and greet our guests! The Robinsons are here, and I am not equipped to listen to Terry’s debate about the ethical consumption of fish. That’s your job.” She pauses between us, glancing at each of us in turn. “Is everything alright?”
I meet Martin’s gaze, remaining silent and waiting for him to make the choice here. Does he continue the lie or does he tell her the truth?
There’s a long few seconds of silence, then Martin grunts. “It’s fine. I was telling him to hurry it along or they won’t be roasted in time.” Clearing his throat, he vanishes from the kitchen while Susan pats my arm.
“Ignore him.” She chuckles. “Honestly, we’ve cooked so much today that we’re well over the potato quota!” She chuckles to herself, takes a bottle of wine from the fridge, and vanishes back to the party.
By the time I finish with the potatoes, Rex and Toto have finished the maze in time for a gaggle of children to head outside, and then Hollie arrives. I’m coming out of the bathroom when we bump into each other in the hallway, and I’m unable to keep the smile from my face.
She’s scraped her red hair back into a ponytail and changed from her gorgeous dress into jeans and her Christmas sweater, but as our eyes meet, something cold grips my heart.
Something’s wrong.
The excited light she had in her eyes when she left me in the car has truly been extinguished. She presses her lips together and struggles to meet my eye, her cheeks are flushed, and she’s pulled the sleeves of her sweater over her hands, gripping them tightly.
“Hollie?”
“Maxim…” There’s a note of relief in her tone, but when I reach for her, she pulls her arm away.
Something happened. “Hollie, what’s wrong?”
“I thought I–I was going to be late. Too late. I can’t, uhm…” She shakes her head and finally meets my eyes. They hold such sorrow that it takes all my restraint not to drag her back into the bathroom with me. Just as well because as I reach for her again, Susan comes through the hallway and squeals.
“Hollie! You came!” She throws her arms around her daughter and pulls her into a tight hug. Past her, I catch Stu’s eyes and he jerks his head slightly to the side, then melts into the crowd forming in the hallway to greet Hollie.
She’s swept away to greet family and friends in the lounge, surrounded by happy people and the occasional request for her to play something for everyone. Her smile, while bright, is clearly forced and uncertainty ticks through my heart.
Was her gig really that bad?
I linger for a few minutes until I can slip away, meeting Stu outside in the back garden where he stands with Toto and Rex who watch over the screaming, laughing children while theyhunt the makeshift snow maze for the chocolate hidden under the snow.
I don’t even need to speak. As soon as our eyes meet, Stu launches into a hurried explanation.
“She didn’t tell me everything, but she was cornered after the party by the host.”
“Why weren’t you with her?” I cut in, unable to help myself.
“We got separated. She acted like it was normal, and I thought it was a regular party, but it wasn’t. I was kept in the foyer and she told me to listen to her playing, so I did. But after it stopped, she never came back so I went looking. I found her in the hallway, and she begged me to take her home. She was flushed, crying, and worked up into a panic. She’d lost her violin. I knew we were outnumbered no matter what happened, so I got her out of there.”
“Fuck.” Whoever he is, wherever he is, I’ll make him pay. I don’t care if he just insulted her music. He won’t get away with this.
“That’s not all,” Stu says, and he steps closer. “I did some digging while she was changing. Mr. Havershire doesn’t exist.”
My heart stalls in my chest. “What?”
“I dug through the sale history of that house and Mr. Havershire wasn’t on the list. In fact, the building is unlisted and hasn’t had an owner in over ten years.”
