Chapter 5 Hollie
HOLLIE
“You can’t kill her because I’m going to marry her.”
I gape at Maxim’s back in utter shock. There’s no way I just heard that correctly, right? Marriage? To a man I barely know? A murderer who just casually stood in front of me and threatened the lives of my family and everyone I’ve ever known just to force me into silence?
“What?” Maxim’s father sounds just as shocked as I feel, but before the conversation continues, he suddenly grabs Maxim by the arm and drags him down the corridor toward the office.
After the door slams with both of them inside, their voices immediately rise, but they’re muffled enough that I can’t decipher any of the words.
My heart pounds. What little comfort I earned from the rather tasty curry melts away in the presence of the two new stony-faced guards who eye me with curious disbelief.
“Marriage,” says the one with the blue silk tie as he lowers his gun.
“A wedding,” says the other with the red silk tie.
I can’t speak. This night has been a whirlwind. Did I crash my car? Maybe I actually died and this is some alarming purgatory where my morals and values are being tested in the face of some really terrible decisions.
I’m supposed to be home. This late, I should be filled with turkey and my Mom’s amazing creamy, cheesy mashed potatoes. I should be relaxing on the couch watching Dad trying to help Mom to bed after one too many sherries.
Instead I’m here, trapped in this nightmare.
“What did you say to him?” Blue tie moves closer to me, rolling his shoulders as he approaches and fiddling with the cufflinks on his suit.
“Are you some rich heiress or something?” Red tie asks, approaching slowly from the other side of me.
“Nah,” blue tie scoffs. “I know all the rich bitches this side of the river and there ain’t any that look this good.”
Red tie snorts and his beady gaze starts wandering down over my body. A sickly, cold chill creeps across his skin as if led by his gaze until his eyes lock onto my thighs and I’m suddenly highly conscious of the skirt I chose.
“Gotta be that sweet slit between your legs, right? I always knew it would take a special pussy to make Maxim settle down,” red tie remarks. “Gotta be one dazzling cunt.”
“You’re disgusting,” I snap hotly, shifting on the stool and keeping my legs pressed closed together.
“She doesn’t deny it.” Blue tie smirks as he gets closer. “What did you do? Suck him off in the car? Spread your legs while he was cooking? A meal after sex always tastes better, don’t you think?”
My cheeks flare hot while my heart pounds harder and harder. I feel like a gazelle cornered by hyenas while the lions are busy elsewhere. With nothing to defend myself, I try to act as confidently as I can while looking them both in the eye.
“Why don’t you go ask Maxim? I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to give you an answer.”
“Maxim,” red tie scoffs. “He’s a puppy dog. Dude doesn’t kiss and tell. But his bitches, on the other hand?” Whatever he was going to say next dies as a subtle voice buzzes in his ear. He lifts one hand and presses on his in-ear speaker, then he grimaces. “Shit. Boss!”
In a flash, they’re both heading down the hall and I sag on the stool like my puppet threads have been cut.
This is awful. How is it I feel safer with the murderer than I do with those two disgusting men?
Tugging the hem of my skirt down as far as it will go, I glance toward the opening leading toward the elevator.
Biometrically coded, he said. No escape.
One wrong move and it’s my family that will suffer.
What the fuck am I supposed to do?
The guard’s rapid knocking on the door is quickly answered and a short, sharp conversation occurs. Then Maxim reappears with his gaze fixed down on his phone, but he looks up the moment he’s close to me.
“You good?”
I nod, speechless. What use would it be to tell him what happened when those same guards were seconds away from shooting me? Whoever they are and whatever criminal shit they’re involved in is beyond me, but I know one thing for sure.
I don’t want to die.
I just want to go home.
“I have to go,” Maxim states, though it’s unclear who he’s talking to.
“This isn’t over.” His father appears behind him, flanked by his two smirking guards. “Did you listen to anything I just said?”
Maxim locks his phone and slides it into his pocket, then he moves to a built-in closet in the wall and removes a T-shirt.
It’s black with red fall leaves drifting in a light pattern across the back and down the sleeves.
Despite how large it looks in his hands, it fits like a glove and looks seconds away from ripping by the time he slides it over his bulky torso.
“I heard you, but I made myself clear. Hollie and I are engaged. We were engaged before tonight and the whole reason she was there was because I told her the wrong time. She saw nothing, do you understand? Nothing.”
The lie spins from him like silk and my mouth runs dry. He’s painting out a life story for me and I have no idea what it is.
“But I have to go,” Maxim continues. “There’s trouble at one of the clubs.”
“Let me keep an eye on your fiancée then, until you make it back to finish our conversation," his father says abruptly, his tone as icy as the wind outside.
My heart punches painfully up into my throat. Staying with him sounds terrifying, and with how his guards ogle me like I’m a piece of meat, I think I’d rather die.
“No,” Maxim says, much to my immense relief. “She’s coming with me. Right?”
I blink, and Maxim’s intense blue eyes are locked onto mine, but his expression is unreadable. It’s almost like he’s giving me a choice, and while a choice between two awful things is hardly a choice at all, I choose him.
“Yes,” I say, unable to stop my voice from trembling.
Suddenly, my hand is engulfed in Maxim’s fist. He pulls me from the stool and strides down toward the elevator at such a pace, I have to jog slightly to keep up.
His grip, despite being firm and almost dwarfing my entire hand, is warm and oddly gentle, like the touch of a friend rather than that of a captor.
Once the doors hiss closed, I jerk my hand away and he releases me without complaint.
“The men you surround yourself with are disgusting,” I snap, huddling away from him against the side of the elevator.
“We can’t choose our parents,” he replies without looking at me.
“But you choose your guards, right?”
That catches his attention and one dark brow arches as he looks at me. “What happened?”
Telling him the truth might be the smartest option, but this hellish night leaves me entirely unwilling to engage any longer than I have to, so I look away and focus on the gleaming floor numbers on the elevator. “Nothing.”
Whether he believes me or not is unclear, but he doesn’t press the issue and I don’t offer any more information. Outside, one of the men from the pizzeria greets us but it’s not Toto.
“Stu.” Maxim’s fist suddenly flies out and collides with Stu’s face, sending him sprawling flat onto the ground like he was made of air. The powerful sound of skin slapping skin rings in my ears as I stare down in shock.
“I deserved that,” Stu groans from his heap on the sidewalk. “You know why I did it, though, right?”
“Yeah. Your loyalty is mis-fucking-placed. And you owe her an apology.” He’s pointing at me, and I’m more confused than ever.
Stu doesn’t appear surprised and he climbs to his feet while massaging his jaw. Then he looks at me, and I weakly brace for the next disgusting onslaught from one of these men.
It doesn’t come. Instead, Stu grimaces and indicates briefly to my face. “Sorry about that.”
“What?” My brain short-circuits and after blinking rapidly, the situation isn’t any clearer. “I don’t… understand.”
Maxim turns to face me as he opens the rear door. “My father speaks in violence between those close to him,” he explains. “I hate that approach. Stu never should have laid a hand on you.”
“Does that really matter when you’re holding me hostage?” I challenge, glaring at him. “Will you hit me if I run right now?”
“No,” Maxim replies easily. “I bet I’d reach your parents faster than you.”
There it is again. That same threat, although it’s much clearer this time. Narrowing my eyes, I glance back at Stu, who is still massaging his jaw. “For a man who doesn’t speak through violence, you sure could’ve fooled me.” With that, I slide into the car and huddle in the back seat.
Thankfully, I’m not handcuffed this time and I focus on the passing buildings while we weave like silk through the streets of New York. I’ve never been out in the city this late. It’s like another world. Feels like my entire life has crashed into another world, at this rate.
“I punched Stu because he didn’t trust me, to an extent.” Maxim’s voice is soft despite the gravel undertones. “He didn’t think I could take care of myself.”
“You’re built like a brick house,” I scoff. “Why would anyone think that?”
Maxim doesn’t reply.
Sighing, I glance over at him and bite into the offered conversation. “How does punching him build that trust?”
“My father thinks Stu is still a mole for him so occasionally, Stu has to give him tidbits of information. Sometimes, that info has to be juicy enough to keep my father satisfied. Other times, he genuinely thinks he’s helping.”
A mole? He speaks less like they’re street criminals and more like they run some kind of organization.
“I knew he would use you as a juicy piece of information and I was fine with it. What I wasn’t fine with was his not warning me that my father was on his way to visit me.”
“So you punched him.” Sounds like ego aggression to me.
“Yes. My father would be suspicious if I didn’t react to Stu’s betrayal in some way. Better my fist in his face than my father’s blade in his spine.”
Oh. “You hurt him to save him?”
“Yes.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“I’m hoping you will understand.”
“Understand what?”
“Everything.”
Rolling my eyes, I look back out the window.
I’m too tired and stressed to play around with riddles right now.
Maxim doesn’t press the conversation so we settle into silence for the rest of the drive.
Not once does he move closer or try to reach out and touch me, and once again, the vehicle moves as if red stop lights don’t exist. Either we’re super lucky and it’s green all the way, or no one in the group gives a shit about road safety.
We pull up outside a nightclub called Plumme. The name blinks at me in gold and neon pink letters that throb in time to the low thump of music drifting from inside.
“Can I stay in the car?” I ask as Maxim opens the door. I could tell him I’m exhausted, that being on edge for so long is draining me, but ultimately, I’m tired of being herded from place to place like a sack.
“No.”
“But—”
“I said no. Come.”
“I’m not a fucking dog,” I snap while dragging myself from the car before he can do it for me. Maxim looks at me like he wants to say something, but he thinks better of it and heads inside the club. I follow with Stu by my side.
We’re immediately swallowed by thin smoke that creates a haze over the entire club. A black corridor with sparkles adorning the walls resembling stars leads us to a single red door, where a thick, tall bouncer stands guard. He grimaces slightly and immediately waves us through.
Inside, the club is filled with shining black stages scattered around the floor below the small entrance balcony we walk onto.
I count six at first glance. Each one has a shining silver pole and is highlighted by a personal spotlight shining down with soft, golden light.
Beyond the mini stages, a long, large stage hugs the back wall, adorned with thick red curtains held in place above the stage by silver cords.
Silver confetti drifts about the smoky haze covering the room, and those who aren’t in the middle of getting a lap dance or a drink at the bar to the far left are huddled around some commotion in the center of the room.
Maxim takes the curved stairs to my left and makes a beeline for the huddle.
The crowd parts around him like the sea and as the scuffling men break apart due to a punch, Maxim immediately tackles one of the men to the ground.
I wince as they hit the floor and someone screams in alarm.
The two other men groggily climb to their feet.
One is dressed in the same red suit as the bouncer we passed at the door and he heads toward the third man who wobbles back and forth, waving what appears to be a rhinestone-covered cane.
It matches the outfit of a nearby woman.
Her rhinestone-encased bikini glitters in the light, and a miniature top hat is affixed to her curls on top of her head.
The crowd ducks and sways as the man swings the cane, then he brings it down hard on Maxim’s back.
My stomach flips and the man is quickly tackled back to the ground by the second bouncer.
“He’s fine,” comes Stu’s voice. He’s watching, and something about my face must have enticed him to give me that reassurance, so I quickly frown.
“Sure,” I mutter. “I don’t care.”
Remaining on the balcony, I watch as Maxim and the bouncer subdue the two drunken, angry men and drag them through the crowd toward a sleek black door next to the large stage.
They vanish through it and the crowd below slowly dissipates.
Dancers return to their poles and patrons resume drinking and flashing money at the stages.
“So he owns a strip club?” I look over at Stu, and he winces.
“Harsh way to look at it. Is that what you think this place is?”
“What else would it be?”
Gazing back over the railing, I see that Maxim reappears with the bouncer.
The two drunken culprits are nowhere to be seen.
Maxim claps the bouncer on the shoulder and for the first time since I saw him in that restaurant, he smiles.
In an instant, the intimidating face with the sharp jaw and harsh, narrow eyes melts into something soft and unrecognizable.
He’s more like the man I met at the bar all those months ago.
The man I spent so long looking for.
As he passes a stage, the rhinestone-clad woman darts down effortlessly in her six-inch heels and throws her arms around Maxim’s neck, planting a bright red kiss on his cheek. “Thank you! Thank you!”
Something cold and sharp rises in my stomach.
Am I… jealous?
No… I can’t be. Can I?