Chapter 6
MAXIM
Xena presses up against me in a cloud of sweet perfume and glitter and places a brief kiss on my cheek. “I knew you’d come!”
“Didn’t I say I would?” With one arm around her waist to support her after she threw herself at me, I gently lower her to the ground while she pats my cheek.
“It’s Thanksgiving night. No one thought you’d escape dinner with your father to come and sort our problems.”
“Dinner was a bust.”
“Oh, no!” She pouts. “Wanna vent about it? I get off in twenty.”
“Nah, I’m good.”
“Okay, honey. Let’s get you some ice for your knuckles, though.” Xena winces as she takes my hand and turns my palm face down to study the rapid swelling and bruising across my knuckles. “Did you teach him a lesson?”
“He won’t be back. Tell me what happened?”
“Sure!” She pops her gum between her teeth and leads me toward the bar, teetering on eye-wateringly high heels.
“Nancy was giving that first guy a dance, the usual. He wanted a private session so after forking out the cash, she took him through the back, but the other guy, the one with the squint?” She motions to her own thickly lined eyes as she hops over the bar.
“He left Candy’s room and followed them into Nancy’s.
Started going at her and they tried to double team, which is when Leo threw himself into the mix.
I think that’s about when I called ya. The fight spilled out here, and we did everything we could to stop them from leaving until you or the cops turned up. ”
“You called the cops?” Perching on a barstool, I flex my knuckles with a wince while Xena scoops a handful of ice into a towel and wraps it up.
“Nah, but I was worried one of the guests would, y’know? Luckily, I think we’re fine. Here, honey. Put that on your knuckles.”
“Thanks.”
“Course. Leo alright?”
“Mhm. I’m sending him home.”
“And the customers?”
“After what you described, I’ll take care of them properly.” It only takes a few seconds to fish my phone out my pocket and text a few words to Toto. “They’ll be dealt with before sunup.”
“Thanks, honey.”
“I told you. You need me and I’m here.”
“You can’t spend all your days running after little old me and my girls. You do enough for us already.”
“I don’t care.” My eyes meet hers. “After what happened to—”
“Ah.” She raises one long, perfectly manicured hand. “Say no more. I understand. You gotta do what you gotta do.”
“Thanks, Xena.”
“Course, honey.”
“Speaking of, actually. I need a favor.”
She leans both hands on the bar and smiles. “Sure. Whatcha need?”
“Witnesses for a wedding.”
“Oh?” She tilts her head, yet somehow, the miniature top hat doesn’t move. “What for?”
“I’m getting married.”
“Married?” Her mouth falls open and she lunges for me, pinching my cheeks like I’m a child. “No way! Who is she? What’s the deal? When do I get to meet her?”
“Maybe in an hour, if you and some of the other girls can be my witnesses?”
She leans back with her hand on her cocked hip. “A shotgun wedding? Honey, I am all over that!”
“Help me!” A yell suddenly rises from the crowd, but her voice is so familiar that nothing other than dread fills my stomach. “Please, somebody help me!”
Concern floods Xena’s eyes and she darts past me with impressive speed in her heels, colliding with Hollie a few feet away.
“Chick! Calm down, I’m here. What do you need?”
“Please!” Hollie grips Xena’s bare arms and gasps. “He killed someone right in front of me and now he won’t let me leave! He’s keeping me prisoner, please, you’ve gotta help me!”
“Who, chick?” Xena’s eyes widen in alarm. “You’re safe here, honey. You’re safe. Ain’t no one gonna hurt ya, I promise.”
“Him!” Hollie points at me with one trembling hand. “It was him.”
Xena follows her hand to me and immediately, her demeanor changes. Instead of comforting Hollie, she pulls back, much to Hollie’s visible alarm.
“Xena, meet my fiancée,” I say as I stand. “She’s a little fragile.”
“Chick…” Xena sucks on her teeth and eyes Hollie as she stumbles away from me.
“Please! Why won’t you listen to me? I saw it! Call the cops or something, please! I just want to go home, but he threatened my family and kidnapped me. Please, you don’t understand. He’s a monster!”
“No, chick.” Xena scoffs softly. “Sounds to me like you don’t understand.”
“What?” Hollie gapes at her and suddenly becomes rooted to the spot as I approach. “Are you insane? He’s a murderer!”
Xena rolls her eyes and stomps past me, pausing to place her hand on my arm. “I’ll rally some of the girls for you. How many do you need?”
“Three. Can you meet me at the chapel in an hour?”
“Sure thing, honey.”
“What the fuck?” Hollie gasps hoarsely.
Disappointment swells as she darts away from me.
Rather than chase her, I return to the bar and order a beer while Stu watches from the balcony above.
To her credit, Hollie tries her best. She tries to talk to every single dancer and even a few patrons, but most guests here are far too ashamed to be caught here to actually bring the cops when there’s no longer any serious danger.
Every girl gives her much the same reaction—concern that melts into understanding or irritation when she points out me as the demon in her life.
I am the demon. Deep down, I know that this is hard for her.
But my father was abundantly clear. Hollie is a liability—which she is painfully demonstrating right now—and she needs to be silenced for good.
He offered to kill her or sell her so far away that nothing she says will ever matter, but I refused.
Spinning the lie that we became engaged before tonight will be hard to sell if she reacts like this in every public setting.
But it’s the only way to save her life and in turn, protect me if she runs her mouth to the wrong person. She reminds me of a cat caught in the grasp of a vet.
My beer is drained by the time Hollie, exhausted, makes it back to my side with fury burning in her defeated eyes.
“What kind of man are you that not one single person here cares that you’re a murderer and a kidnapper?”
I spin in my stool, brushing the now-damp towel away from me. “You’re judging me on two small actions.”
“Two pretty horrific actions,” she spits, her voice trembling.
“Hollie. I wanted to make this as simple as I could for you, but you’re making it incredibly difficult.”
“Oh, I’m the problem?” she yells hoarsely. “Maybe you should have kidnapped a quieter girl then!”
“Did you forget what I said?”
She looks me right in the eye. “You’re doing everything you can to stop your precious daddy from killing me, so no, I don’t think you’d kill my parents either!”
Hollie’s on the right train but careening down the wrong track.
I stand and catch her arm, keeping my grip firm even as she violently tries to jerk away from me.
“I never said I would kill your parents to get my way,” I say, bringing my voice down low.
“Where’s the fun in that? Keeping them alive is much more beneficial. ”
Her eyes widen as she catches on to my threat, but where I expect more snapping fire and pushback, she suddenly relents and defeat floods her eyes and posture. Even her struggles cease, and she stands there, limp, as if she’ll fall over the second I release her.
She’s right. I am a monster. Being viewed this way due to my size, my bulk, or even how I present myself has never been an issue. So why is it suddenly one now? Why do I want to shake her until she opens her eyes and realizes I’m trying to help her?
“Hollie—”
“Whatever.” She cuts me off, her gaze down to the floor. “If it’s so fucking important, sure, let’s go get married.”
I tell myself it will be worth it as we drive a few blocks to the chapel.
It’s not far and this late at night, Stu called ahead to wake up someone capable of performing a brief ceremony.
Luckily, it’s someone on our payroll so if Hollie decides to act out again, it won’t cause any problems. Keeping her quiet won’t be much of an issue once that ring is on her finger and I’m protected by spousal privilege in the eyes of the law, but until that moment, every second is a risk.
Inside the chapel, Hollie follows me to a small room fitted with a single mirror and a small couch.
“What’s this?” She doesn’t look at me, but she walks to the middle of the room.
“For you to get ready?”
“Huh?” She spins on the spot. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
“This has to be believable and the outfit you’re wearing doesn’t scream pre-planned wedding, does it?”
“What are you, a wedding expert?” Her eyes narrow and she mutters something under her breath, then crosses her arms over her chest. “Fine. What is it?”
“This!” Xena pops up at my elbow, making me jump, and she holds one of the dancer costumes aloft. It’s a string of fabric barely constituting a dress, and I bite back my own surprise.
“You’re kidding.” Hollie’s face turns pale.
“It’s the most respectable thing we had,” Xena exclaims. “What, are you too good for it or something?”
“There’s no way in hell I’m wearing something like that!”