Page 1 of Taken By the Mobster

Chapter 1

Olivia

Olivia checked the clock on the wall for the fifth time; fifteen minutes until the bank closed its doors for the day. Whenever the door opened, the sounds of the outside world invaded the bank, and the crisp, clean, cold air from outside swirled through the room. She pushed her dark brown hair behind her ear with one finger and looked around the dimly lit bank. There were only a few customers left. Most of them were the usual closing time customers; it wouldn’t take long to help them with their transactions.

Her boss, Mr. Ingalls, walked by with a slight frown, tapped the face of his watch, and twirled his finger at Olivia in a move-it-along gesture. He was eager to close the bank. Ever since his wife became ill, the day couldn’t end soon enough for him; she was his priority.

Olivia would have preferred to stay, if only to avoid another night alone in her shitty motel room, mourning the loss of her life and the family she loved. Not that the motel was home. Home was Massachusetts, and she couldn’t go back there right now or ever.

The tiny bell over the door chimed, signaling the arrival of another customer. The owner of the gas station across the street, one of her regulars, came in to make his daily deposit. A rush of cold fall air followed him inside, making her shiver. She saw the shadows from nearby buildings stretching out into the street, growing noticeably longer as night encroached. Olivia straightened her shoulders and put on her best smile for her customer.

“Good evening, Mr. Sewell.” Her own voice sounded falsely bright to her ears. Mr. Sewell didn’t seem to notice.

“Billy, please, Mrs. Miller,” he scolded. “Please call me Billy.”

Olivia nodded and smiled. She made quick work of his daily deposit; he would be eager to get home. It was one transaction she didn’t take her time doing. Mr. Sewell smiled and winked at her before scurrying out the door with purposeful intent, perhaps hurrying home to his wife and young daughter. Olivia felt a pang of jealousy that he got to see his family.

The click of the key turning in the lock on the bank doors made her heart ache with loneliness. She refrained from sighing and focused on counting her cash drawer before securing it in the safe. She walked with her boss to the back door where Olivia put on her jacket and blue scarf while listening to Mr. Ingalls, nodding in all the appropriate places while already dreading her lonely evening.

“You’re sure you’ll be all right with closing next week?” Mr. Ingalls inquired, as he held the back exit door open for her. “I understand it’s a lot to ask—.”

“I’ll be fine, Mr. Ingalls.” Olivia slipped on her gloves before stepping outside. “It’s the least I can do. Margaret will be happy to have you home early. Please don’t worry. I’m happy to help.”

Mr. Ingalls squeezed her arm. “What would I do without you, Olivia? Thank you for everything.”

They said their goodbyes for the evening. Olivia turned to walk the short distance to the motel, only a few blocks from the bank. Despite the cold, she took her time; she was in no hurry to lock herself in her depressing room. Unfortunately, she could only walk so slowly, so it wasn’t long before she reached the fast-food restaurant on the corner across the street from the motel. She stopped to get herself some chicken nuggets and a salad, then she headed to the room she’d rented in the far corner of the motel, situated well away from the street.

Olivia slipped inside, locked the door, and, for good measure, propped the only chair in the room under the knob. Only then did she relax. As she took off her jacket, her fingers got tangled in the scarf her sister, Caitlin, had given her for Christmas almost four years ago.

“Open it.” Caitlin giggled as she handed the gift to her sister, the smile on her face almost shy.

“I told you not to buy me anything,” Olivia scolded.

“I didn’t buy you anything,” Caitlin said. “Now, open it.”

Olivia tucked her feet beneath her and put the present on her lap. She smiled at the makeshift wrapping, almost as if a child had done it, even though Caitlin was seventeen. Caitlin wasn’t good at wrapping gifts; she loved that about her sister. While Olivia and her mother fussed over every corner, every piece of tape and ribbon, Caitlin wrapped like she lived—without a care in the world.

Olivia unwrapped the gift, the brightly colored paper falling to the floor. She gasped as she pulled the thick, luxurious material free and spread it across her lap.

“It’s beautiful.” Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. It really was beautiful, soft and a lovely shade of royal blue that would bring out the blue in her eyes. She ran her hand back and forth over the decadent fabric, reveling in its beauty.

Caitlin picked it up and wrapped it around her sister’s neck. “I made it, Liv.”

Olivia laughed and swiped at the tears on her cheeks. “You did not.”

“I did!” Caitlin insisted. “I crocheted it. It took me six months to get it right.”

“It’s gorgeous. You did an amazing job. I love it.” Olivia hugged her. “And I love you too.” She kissed Caitlin’s cheek.

Caitlin smiled at her and blushed. “Love you too, sis.”

A sharp knock jolted Olivia back to the present. “Ms. Miller?”

Olivia stepped close to the door and put her hand on the gun she kept on a nearby table. She rested her other hand on the motel door and took a deep breath to steady herself.

“Mr. Washburn? Is that you?” she called.

“It is,” the man replied. “I was just checking on you.”

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