Chapter 12 Hollie
HOLLIE
Telling my parents someone had died likely would have gotten a better reaction than the word married.
Standing in their lounge next to a roaring fireplace that washes my legs with waves of warmth, my father paces back and forth in front of the door leading to the kitchen, while my mother repeatedly switches between sitting and standing.
“Married?” she yelps upon standing once more. “You ran away and got married? Are you insane? How could you do this? How could you do this without telling us?”
“You’re not in any position to be married,” Dad retorts sharply. “That isn’t something you do at the drop of a hat. How long have you even known each other?”
“A few months,” Maxim replies from where he stands next to me, but whatever else he might say is silenced by a furious glare from my father. It’s like his entire presence offends them and I understand it.
But I can’t back out. Not now. Not if I want to keep them alive.
Thankfully, Maxim has enough sense to remain quiet. “We met a few months ago and hit it off,” I explain, the lie flowing easier now. “When you know, you know, right? I mean you and Mom got married really quickly.”
“Things were different back then,” Mom gasps, sitting on the couch.
“Things were more personal than they are now. Now it’s all phones and electronics and secrets.
How could you do this to me? You know how much I wanted to see you get married, how much your father deserved to walk you down the aisle. How could you take this away from us?”
I have no answers. Witnessing them being this upset pains me more than I can put into words because everything they’re saying is correct. In an ideal world, things would have been very different and my parents would have been involved every step of the way. But this isn’t a dream.
It’s life and death.
“Mrs. Taggert’s son did this,” Mom weeps softly. “Her son eloped without a word and came back three years later with two kids and a divorce. God, it was shameful, and now this will happen to us. Hollie, I raised you better! What on earth were you thinking?”
My hands flex uselessly as I search for words. “It was… it was a romantic whirlwind, what can I say? We were in love and the timing felt right, the night was beautiful, and it was just… I can’t explain it.”
“Who was your witness, hmm? How did you even pay for something like that so quickly?”
“Well, Maxim’s friends were there and he paid—”
“So you’re the money bags?” Dad glares at Maxim but thankfully, Maxim remains silent like a shadow just out of sight. “Hollie, did you even sign a prenup or anything like that? Did you think about what this will do to your taxes? To your life? Do you understand your credit or anything?”
He’s throwing blow after verbal blow at me and I scarcely keep up. But I do answer honestly. “No, I didn’t and thought about none of that.”
“Hollie!” Mom whines, and she’s on her feet again. “How old are you, anyway?”
All eyes land on Maxim, and he clears his throat. “Thirty-six.”
“What the hell are you doing sniffing around a twenty-five-year-old?” Dad nearly bursts a blood vessel.
“Don’t start,” I snap before Maxim has a chance to respond. “You both have a twelve-year age gap, so don’t even think of pretending to be astonished at that.”
“It was different back then,” Mom whines.
I roll my eyes despite the way my heart breaks at their distress. “Hardly. If it’s wrong now, then it was wrong back then, and you two need to reevaluate.”
“Don’t speak to your mother that way!” Dad halts his pacing.
“What way? She’s the one who told me not to come home for Thanksgiving.
She’s the one who signed me up for things I didn’t agree to.
So I listened and didn’t come home, and now that I’m here trying to share this with you, you’re both acting like I’ve done something truly unforgivable!
You can’t have it both ways. You can’t treat me like I’m an inconvenience or a place mat and then get mad when I decide to do my own thing! ”
“You’re our daughter,” Dad remarks sharply. “We will treat you how we see fit!”
“And I don’t need to stand for it! You can accept this and let things go back to normal or we can keep going in circles until you realize the real reason you both weren’t included is because of how you treat me!”
They don’t accept it. The argument continues and delves into the various ways this is disrespectful, the shame I’ve brought to them and the family, even the ruined food from Thanksgiving that was saved for me. Not once do they offer congratulations or even ask about Maxim as a person.
And I don’t blame them.
Every raised voice, every hurtful word, and every tear that slips from Mom or me is the price I pay to keep them safe.
If Maxim’s threat against them wasn’t enough, then the old stories overheard from my father as a child are.
Tales of informants cut down because they talked too much, families slaughtered to send a message, and people disappeared, never to be found again. That’s all from regular criminals.
Maxim is in the Mafia. I don’t want to know the extent of organized crime and the harm they can bring to the ones I love.
So I face it all while feeling like the worst daughter to ever exist. My mother cries over the wedding I denied her, my father’s fury rages at my reckless decisions and the strange man I’ve brought into their lives, and Maxim remains silent by my side.
All of it is worth it so they walk away from this without a single drop of pain.
By the time the world grows dark, things calm. My parents run out of things to say and we settle into a disappointed silence while the fire reduces to embers and tears finally stop.
“I think we need some time,” Mom says from her corner on the couch. “You’ve really hurt me, Hollie, but if you promise to really focus on us at Christmas, then we can work on it.”
“I’m sorry, Mom,” I say earnestly. “But please try and be happy for me. This is my decision and my life. And I promise, everything and anything you need for Christmas, I am here. I promise.”
“Him too?” She points at Maxim, who now leans against the wall near the window.
“Yes.”
“I’ll think about it, then,” Mom says.
“Leave,” Dad says stiffly, then he turns and moves into the kitchen and I never see him again. Staying will only increase the pressure, so I stand and try to meet Mom’s eye, but she keeps looking away from me.
“Bye, Mom. I love you.” Despite our troubles, it’s true. She doesn’t say it back.
Outside, the first touch of snow drifts through the air and soft, fat flakes float past my face and catch in my hair.
The air is bitterly cold but pleasant against my faintly throbbing cheek.
I bury my hands in my pockets and groan softly as the door closes behind us and Maxim and I stand in a growing winter wonderland.
It’s been snowing for a few hours, judging by the white blanket that covers the garden and the car where Stu is huddled inside his coat.
The first snow of the year usually calls for a celebration.
Mom and I would make hot chocolate and watch it fall, then come out here and make snow angels. Been doing that ever since I was a kid.
How different this year is going to be.
As I start to walk, Maxim stops me.
“Hollie.”
“What?” I spin to face him. “Are you happy? Was my performance enough for you?” Anger flares inside me and I fight to keep it at bay. One wrong word, one wrong move, and it won’t matter what I told them. He could decide at any moment to kill all of us.
“Your passcode is one, two, three, four.”
I gape at him. “Are you fucking serious?”
“I’m surprised you didn’t try it, actually.”
Dragging my phone from my pocket, I unlock it with the simple code and let out a soft groan. “I can’t believe it.”
“Since you’ve lied to the cops and to your parents, I think you’ll hold up your end of this. I’m happy for you to return to your normal life—under our protection, of course. As long as you maintain the marriage around anyone who asks, of course.”
“So this is a reward for breaking my mom’s heart?” Tapping the screen, I quickly set a new passcode and slide my phone back into my pocket. “Am I supposed to be grateful?"
“You’re alive,” Maxim replies curtly. “So are they. I would think you would be happy.”
“You don’t get it, do you?” Before I can stop myself, I prod his wide, solid chest. “You might have a fucked up relationship with your dad, but mine trusted me. Sure, they aggravated me and signed me up for things I hated and there might be a lack of respect about my work, but they raised me and they cared for me. And I just sat there and lied to their faces while denying them any detail of a wedding they both dreamed about for their only daughter. Do you even understand what kind of pain that gives me?”
“A pain that isn’t comparable to what you would feel if you lost them,” Maxim replies as if we’re having a casual conversation.
“If you killed them, you mean,” I snap, prodding him again and growing more irritated when he appears unbothered. “I hate this and I hate you! I get it, it’s the cost of survival or whatever, but I’m allowed to be angry that it’s shitty!”
Fighting to keep my voice low, I turn and stomp toward the car. Stu catches sight of us and straightens up. As we reach the vehicle, I turn back to Maxim and glare at him. “Ride in the front. I want to be alone.”
His brows twitch but he nods quickly. “Alright.”
“And one more thing,” I snap as I open the door. “The next time you want to murder someone in cold blood, make sure I’m not there to witness it!”