Mistake Under The Mistletoe

by Leah Holt

  MISTAKE

  UNDER THE

  MISTLETOE

  Leah Holt

  Copyright © 2018 Leah Holt

  All rights reserved. MISTAKE UNDER THE MISTLETOE is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  Mistake Under The Mistletoe

  Connect with Leah!

  Also from Leah Holt:

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Epilogue

  Also from Leah Holt:

  About Leah Holt

  Connect with Leah!

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  Also from Leah Holt:

  CHAINED: A Bad Boy Romance

  HIS PRICE: A Billionaire Romance

  MY SOLDIER: A Military Romance

  BARE SKIN: A Billionaire Romance

  BODY LOCK: A Bad Boy MMA Romance

  BAD BEHAVIOR: A Dark Mafia Romance

  DIRTY BEHAVIOR: A Dark Mafia Romance

  SWEET VIRGIN

  BEG ME ANGEL: A Dark Romance

  PUSHED: A Dark Romance

  KEEP ME: A Dark Romance

  REDD: A Dark Romance

  BEAUTIFUL LIE

  ALPHA ON TOP: A Bad Boy Romance

  ALMOST GLASS

  QUEEN OF PENTACLES (Cards Of Love)

  WHEN IT RAINS... HE POURS

  Prologue

  Where the hell is he?

  Looking out my window for the billionth time, I paced in the living room. Yuri was supposed to be there over an hour ago, we were going to have to leave without him if he didn't show up soon.

  Pulling out my cell phone, I sent him another text. I stared at that screen, I stared at it, wishing he would just send me a message back telling me where he was.

  That message never came.

  “It's time to go,” my father said as he stood in the doorway. “We can't wait any longer.”

  “But he said he'd be here.”

  “I know, and I'm sure he has a good reason for why he's not. But if you want to make it to your graduation, we need to go.”

  Grabbing my hat and gown, I followed my father to the car. Climbing in the front passenger seat, I pulled the seat belt across my chest as he started the engine. My eyes were full with water, making it hard to find the buckle clip, the clear view a fuzzy haze from the bubbles creeping over the surface.

  “Maybe he'll meet us there, and maybe he doesn't have any service to text you and tell you.” My father spoke softly as he watched the road.

  Turning to look at him, the tears started to fall. “He was supposed to be here at five, that was an hour ago. Where could he be?”

  My father didn't answer, simply giving me a look that said he had no clue, but he wasn't as worried as I was. “Things come up, Honey, but I'm sure he'll be there.”

  Yuri had always done what he said he would. He was where he said he would be, he finished everything he started, he did exactly what was expected.

  Except for today.

  This was a big day for me, it was my high school graduation. Yuri was two years older, deciding to skip college and go to work for his father at his moving company.

  He wasn't your average kid. He was responsible, he had determination, he had wanted to help his family by keeping the business going. It was what I loved the most about him.

  Resting my head on my hand, the car rolled to a stop at the red light. My eyes searched around, staring at everything and nothing at all.

  That's when I saw him.

  Throwing my body upright, I glared out the window. The car started to roll forward, so I threw my hand out towards my father and yelled. “Stop the car!”

  Slamming on the brakes, our bodies jerked hard, forcing the seat belt to lock in place. Pulling the car over to the side of the road, my father stared at me, his face pained with worry and confusion.

  “What? What is it?” he asked, his eyes huge.

  “Oh my God. . .” The words slipped weightlessly out of my mouth as I looked at the liquor store parking lot.

  Yuri was sprawled across the front of the hood of a cop car, his brother was in cuffs, sitting on the front step of the store. Red and blue lights flashed frantically as sirens still blared, approaching from the distance.

  The cop was holding Yuri's face down, his elbow locked in place as he sifted through his pockets.

  “What's going on, Gwen? What are you looking at?” My father tried to lean forward to look past me and out my window. “What's going on over there?”

  Hanging my head, I waved my hand. “Nothing, it looks like a couple kids getting into trouble. I thought it was someone I knew, but it's not.”

  His body rocked and twisted, trying to get a better look. “That's a lot of cops for a couple kids. They must have done something, move so I can see.”

  “Dad, we need to go, I don't want to be late to my own graduation.” Pouting my lip slightly, I arched my brows. “Mom's going to get worried if we don't show up soon.”

  I wasn't sure why I didn't just tell him the truth, that it was Yuri and his brother they were arresting, that all those cops were rushing into the parking lot to arrest my boyfriend.

  My heart cracked as the tires crunched against the pavement, spitting rocks up into the wheel wells. That wasn't who he was, that wasn't the person I had fallen in love with.

  But that's exactly what my eyes were absorbing as I watched the lights splash off the surrounding trees, and the store fade into the distance.

  He was suppose to come right to my house after getting off work. He was going to get cleaned up and changed so we could drive to my graduation together. Except he wasn't at work, he wasn't at home. . .

  Yuri was getting cold metal slapped around his wrists as a hoard of police swarmed around him.

  It didn't make sense to me, none of it fit into the mold of the man I knew.

  Maybe he's not the person you thought he was?

  I could never have imagined that his actions would force us apart forever.

  Chapter One

  Gwen

  “What? When?”

  The phone went silent and I could hear my mother sifting through papers. She was mumbling to herself, inaudible words I couldn't make out.

  “Mom,” I said, taking a moment to glance out the window. A guy in the building across the street, was outside on the small fire escape platform of his apartment, pinning up a string of lights. The firm tap of his hammer was hitting the wood around his window as he tacked his Christmas lights in place. “Mom, did you hear me?”

  “Yeah, I heard you, Honey.” Papers crinkled in the background as she sighed to herself. “It's in here somewhere.”

  “When did they send it?”

  “The other da—ah ha!” Her voice was loud and shrill, forcing me to tug the phone quickly away from my ear. “Here it is.”

  “What does
it say?”

  “It says that they put a lien on the house, Gwen. What does that mean?”

  “It means you didn't pay something, Mom.”

  Scoffing, I could almost hear her rolling her eyes through the speaker. “Well that's just ridiculous.”

  My father's voice grumbled in the background. “Those damn pricks don't know what the hell they're talking about.”

  “Shut up, Ron, I can't hear Gwen with you talking over her. What did you say, Honey?”

  “I didn't say anything.” My eyes scanned outside again, just in time to see the first snowflakes of the year fall.

  “Well, can you fix it? You're a lawyer, you can fix this right?”

  “I can take a look at it when I get there, but I can't make you any promises, Mom. I'm an IP attorney, this isn't my area of expertise.”

  “But you can fix it right?”

  Pinching the bridge of my nose, I closed my eyes. “I'll look at it, alright?”

  “When are you coming?” she asked impatiently. “I don't want them showing up out of nowhere and trying to force us out. I won't leave, Gwen, they'll have to drag my ass out of here kicking and screaming.”

  “It won't come to that, Mom, it doesn't work that way. My flight leaves at seven tomorrow morning, so I should be home about twelveish, give or take.”

  “Do you need Dad to come get you?”

  “No, I'll just grab a cab, don't worry about sending Dad.”

  “Does she need me?” my father asked over my mother's shoulder, his voice raspy as he coughed loudly into the phone.

  “No, she's grabbing a cab. Will you back up, you're making me nervous.”

  “Nervous, you're too old to be nervous.”

  “Shoo,” she said, and with her tone, I could picture her waving her hand in his face to get him to back up. “Okay, Honey, I'm going to let you go, I'll see you tomorrow.”

  Hanging up the phone, I stood in my window, watching the sky flicker with bright white speckles. The snow wasn't much of a change from where I grew up, but I never really left Colorado to get away from the snow.

  Their was only one thing that forced me to leave and it had nothing to do with the weather.

  Checking over my bag, I made sure I had everything I needed. It had been three years since I'd been back home. I left right out of college, taking the fist offer I got from a firm out of New York City.

  It was perfect timing.

  I was able to bypass the last few Christmas celebrations by claiming work was too busy to get away from. But this year, I couldn't say no.

  My father had some medical issues pop up this past summer, and now with this crap with their house, it felt like I just needed to be there.

  Climbing into bed, I made sure my alarm was set. Even as I turned the dial, I could feel my nerves starting to grow, making my heart beat faster. Sweat was already turning my skin clammy and warm, and my mind was running wild.

  What if I see. . .

  Don't do this, you'll never get on that plane if you think about him.

  Resting my head on the pillow, I rolled onto my side, staring at the clock until I finally blacked out.

  I only had to make it five days, five days and then I could fly back to my life.

  Away from everything I wanted to forget.

  Chapter Two

  Gwen

  The tires squealed on the runway as the plane skidded across the pavement, coming to a long stop. Taxiing over to the gate, I stared at the mountains covered in a thick layer of snow.

  The plane was an hour later than expected, due to an icy runway they had to soak in de-icing fluid until it was safe to land.

  The captain popped on the speaker, thanking all of the passengers for flying on board. Waiting for the seat-belt light to turn off, I gathered my purse and computer, and held them in my lap.

  As soon as the light dimmed, everyone around me began to stand, pulling out their carry-on bags. But I still sat there, my gaze fixed out the small oval window, watching the clouds as they swirled over the mountain top.

  “Miss, are you all set? Do you need anything?”

  Pulling me out of my daze, I looked up to see a stewardess at my side, her hand resting on the top of my seat.

  “No, thank you,” I said, giving her a small smile and getting up. Pulling my bag out of the overhead compartment, I tugged it up my shoulder and walked off the plane.

  The terminal was full of people hugging and laughing, their smiles making me even more nauseous. Everyone around me looked happy to be there, excited to be home for the holiday.

  And all I could think about was walking to the ticket counter and exchanging my ticket for the next flight back to New York.

  Five days. . . You can make five days.

  Zipping up my jacket, I made my way outside and found my taxi waiting. Climbing in, I gave the driver directions, slinking down as much as I could into the back seat.

  I had this urge to stay hidden, to keep myself as small as possible. It was silly, I knew that, but I refused to let more than my nose and forehead show above the bottom of the window.

  Familiar buildings rushed past the window. The library I spent every night in while studying for the bar exam, the coffee shop I spent countless hours in writing papers. The familiarity should have been warm and welcoming, but all I felt was unsettled and nervous all at the same time.

  Comfort was a strange thing. Most people went home because of that feeling, because the nostalgia gave way to memories they enjoyed. They could think back as they drove past that coffee shop and laugh or smile because of a single memory they had.

  Not me.

  That coffee shop, that library, the small hardware store on the corner of Dunkin drive—the liquor store—it all brought back too much for me. I felt pain, not joy or happiness.

  Closing my eyes for the rest of the drive, I didn't open them again until the taxi came to a stop and the driver told me we were there.

  “Twenty-five,” he said, holding his hand between the front and back seats. “Do you need any help with your bags?”

  “No, I got it, thank you.” Handing him the cash, I picked up my stuff and climbed out.

  Staring up at my parents house, I adjusted the collar on my jacket to block the sharp wind, and took in a deep breath of frosty air.

  Here we go.

  Standing at the front door, I knocked gently and opened it up, poking my head inside. “Hello!” I called out into the quiet house. “Mom, Dad, I'm home.” Stepping inside, I closed the door behind me and dropped my bags to the floor.

  “Gwenie,” my mom said loudly, a broad smile on her face as she came around the corner with her arms out, embracing me instantly. “I'm so glad you're home, Gwenie.”

  “Please don't call me that, I'm not ten anymore.” Hugging her back, she chuckled as she snuggled me tighter.

  “Oh stop, you might be all grown up now, but you're still my baby.”

  Patting her back, I pulled away. “I know, I know. Is Tyler here yet?” I asked, taking off my coat and hanging it on the rack by the door.

  “No, he'll be here tomorrow with Jill and the kids.” Waving her hand for me to follow her, she walked towards the kitchen. “How was your flight?”

  “Not bad, a little rough because of the weather, but I made it.”

  “Are you hungry? I know that airplane food is horrible, how about some leftovers?” Opening the fridge, she bent inside and took out a glass dish. “I made lasagna last night, and we both know your father doesn't need the rest of this.”

  “What's that? Don't you dare feed the rest of that to her, I claimed it first.” My father walked in, latching his big hands around the top of my shoulders and giving me a squeeze.

  “Hey, Dad,” I said, turning to give him a hug.

  “Hey, kiddo, how's life treating ya?”

  “It's good, busy, but good.”

  “Well—” Kissing me on the top of my head, he gave me a warm smile. “I'm glad you finally made time for us little
people.” Winking, he walked to the silverware drawer and pulled out a fork. “And don't think you're going to eat all that alone, half of it's mine.”

  Giggling, my mother plated us both some of her famous lasagna. “You two are going to be the death of me, you know that.”

  “Us,” I said, my mouth half full of food. “I thought Tyler already killed you years ago?”

  “Oh don't even get me started with him. If it wasn't for Jill, I don't know where the hell he'd be right now.”

  “Probably prison,” my father chimed in while swallowing a big bite of food.

  “Ron!” my mother snapped, giving him the stink eye. “Don't say things like that.”

  Laughing, I started to feel a little more at ease, and a bit silly for being so resistant on coming back.

  It actually felt really good to be home.

  Maybe I've just been worrying about nothing. . .

  I could handle five days of this, no problem at all. So long as I didn't have to leave the house.

  I spent most of the afternoon just catching up with my parents. My father was supposed to be on a diet, my mother was supposed to be the one keeping him in line.

  It wasn't going well.

  I watched him eat a whole bowl of lasagna, a piece of banana bread, a pudding cup, and then actual dinner. His gallbladder was probably screaming bloody murder.

  “Do you have those papers for me to look at?”

  “I do, but not right now. You just got here, you don't need to go worrying yourself with it just yet.”

  “Okay, so what's the plans for the weekend?”

  “Well, it's been hard to keep it a surprise, but we are having a Christmas party.” My mother's eyes lit with excitement. “It's going to be just like when you were little, I invited everyone—Mr. Glynn, Barbara Dean, your Aunt Mary and Uncle Jeff. . .” Pausing, she closed her eyes and tipped her head up as she thought. “Your cousin Tina and her kids, Mrs. Cardigen is coming, and a bunch more people.”

  Is she serious right now?

  “You're joking right? Please tell me you're joking.”