Page 45 of The Bratva's Christmas Bump
That’s nice to hear after the hours we spent arguing when she and Dad first found out. For a brief moment, I consider telling her the truth. How fast would Dad get here with his cop buddies? Would they be able to take us all into protection before Maxim can make good on his threat? Or would my very action to protect them be the thing that gets them killed?
I briefly close my eyes and a flash of the dead body enters my mind, churning my gut. That’s how my parents will end up if I say anything, and I’m already taking enough risks today.
My eyes flutter open when Mom’s hand lands on top of mine. “Are you sure you’re okay, Hollie? You don’t seem like yourself.”
“You’re just saying that because I’ve never done something like this before, but aren’t you always telling me to get out there and experience the world? Make mistakes and have fun?”
“Yes,” she replies softly. “But I’d been talking about thinking properly about your future, getting a real job, and settling into a career that will take care of you.”
“Maxim will take care of me.”
“Men aren’t a career, Hollie.”
I snort softly, amused. “They can be.”
“Hollie!”
“I’m just saying! Listen, you’ll see for yourself that Maxim is a good man and that I’m happy, then everything can go back to normal, alright?” My heart flutters slightly in my chest. No part of my imprisonment with Maxim states he has to make good with my family, but he also doesn’t strike me as the kind of man who will make things difficult for himself. For a man built like a truck, covered in tattoos, and rather terrifying at a glance… he’s been kind so far.
If my mind wanders, I’m drawn to how tenderly he took care of my ankle rather than ordering someone else to do it. He’s cooked for me. Ensured I get a good night's sleep. As far as kidnappings go, this isn’t like the ones I read about on the news.
Maybe Maxim is actually terrible at what he does.
His father, on the other hand? Swallowing my tea still makes my throat throb at the memory of that hand clamping down on my neck.
My mother settles for telling me about the local community bake sale and the renovations they plan to do to the house next summer. She rambles like she usually does, and I appease her with appropriate comments and questions about design ideas, cost, and more. All the while, I keep an eye on the clock high up on the wall near the door. I need to wrap things up soon if I’m going to sneak away to the real reason I wanted some freedom today.
Mom lights up talking about fresh paint and when the conversation turns back to Christmas, there’s a childlike excitement in her eyes.
“And this weekend,” she continues. “I want the house to look perfect. You and Maxim are still coming, correct?” She says his name with a touch of uncertainty, like it’s a word she doesn’t fully understand.
“Yes,” I assure her with one last glance at the clock. “Actually, speaking of. I need to slip away and meet him before I head to work. Is it alright if we wrap this up?”
Mom looks slightly disappointed as she nods and hurriedly takes a handful of dollars out of her purse, scolding me with a look when I try to pay my share. “Let it be my treat.” She clutches my hand afterward and smiles strongly. “You’re really okay, Hollie, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Mom,” I lie smoothly and lean forward, kissing her powdery cheek. “I’m fine, I promise.”
After she leaves, sneaking out of the back of the cafe via the door near the toilets is terrifying. Each step down the alley echoes like a gunshot and I keep expecting Stu or Toto to jump out from behind a dumpster ready to catch me fleeing.
But there’s no one. Maxim really meant it when he said there’d be no security. Of course, judging by how he operates, that likely isn’t strictly true, but I’m able to give whoever is watching the cafe the slip and bolt down the street. I don’t stop running until I’m a few blocks away. Once I’m certain I’m safely away, I hug a wall and breathlessly pant, willing my heart rate to decrease while my trembling fingers skim through the map on my phone seeking out the doctor I’m booked in to see.
She’s a five-minute walk from here, which gives me enough time to catch my breath.
By the time I’m sitting in the office, my heart rate is almost back to normal, but the doctor still gives me a concerned glance while she checks my blood pressure.
“I ran here,” I say as she looks me up and down. Sweat continues to bead at my hairline and I brush it away as the doctor sighs softly and removes the pump from my arm.
“Hollie, I can’t stress enough how important these checkups are for the health of you and your baby. There are a lot of complications and problems that can be caught early, but youneedto come and see me, do you understand?”
I nod. “I’m sorry. It’s the time of year. I’m super busy all the time, and I can’t afford to miss out on work. I don’t make an hourly rate, y'know.”
“I understand that,” she says, pulling off her gloves and sitting in front of me, “but you need to make time for this if you wantto ensure the health of your child. Have you had any success in tracking down the father?”
I hesitate as Maxim floods my thoughts. Nothing about him screams father, but how long can I realistically hide this from him? I already see a bump in the mirror, and I’m not sure if it’s my imagination or not. A few more months and it’ll be painfully obvious that I’m pregnant.
“Sort of,” I lie. “But he’s not going to be in the picture.”
“Are you sure?” She stops scribbling on her notes and looks up at me. “Any medical information from the father can be important. If there’s anything serious that runs in his side of the family that we should be on the lookout for, or any complications. Can you ask him?”
