Page 39 of Taken By the Mobster

“We’re gonna get you some help, okay?” He clutched her hand and leaned over her. “Ezra, where’s Olivia? Is she still here?”

“I … I don’t know,” Ezra mumbled.

“Hold on, doll,” Declan said. He scooped Ezra up and put her on the same couch where an injured Drew had been. Drew took a blanket from the basket on the floor and threw it over her.

Conor crouched next to Ezra. “Walsh did this?” he said. “That dirty bastard. I’m going to kill him.”

“Not if I get to him first,” Declan growled. “I think he’s got Liv.”

“It’s been less than an hour, Deck,” Drew said. “They don’t have much of a head start.”

“Conor, grab one of those rags from the bar over there and put some water on it. We need to clean Ezra up,” Declan ordered. “I think she’s got a head wound, not too serious, but I need to get a look under the blood.”

Conor did as he was told, then he helped Declan clean Ezra’s face and head. Declan was examining her wound when they heard the knock on the door.

It was loud, so loud it echoed through the entire house. Declan gestured to Drew to stay put as he and Conor drew their guns. They stepped into the hall and crept toward the front door. Declan stepped to one side of the door and pulled the curtain on the window open an inch with the tip of his finger. He snarled, yanked open the door, and stuck his gun in the man’s face standing in front of him.

“Now, Declan, is that any way to say hello?” Clyde said calmly.

“Where is she, Clyde?” Declan demanded. “Where the fuck is she?” He prayed the mob boss wouldn’t see how his hand shook as he held the gun inches from his face.

“We should talk,” Clyde said. He used two fingers to push the gun aside. “We’ve got a few things we need to discuss.” He stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

“We don’t have anything to discuss,” Declan snapped. “I’m done talking to you about anything. Where the fuck is Olivia?”

Clyde laughed. “My wayward fiancée? She’s fine. A little banged-up, but she’ll live.”

“She better,” Declan said. He cocked his gun. “Get out your phone, and call whoever the hell has her and tell them to let her go.”

“No, I don’t think so. I’m going to hold on to her for a while. I think she could prove useful.” Clyde crossed his arms across his chest and leaned against the banister.

“What do you mean, useful?” Declan asked.

“Leverage, my dear boy. Ms. O’Reilly is useful to me because she is leverage.” Clyde brushed imaginary dust from the lapel of his jacket.

Declan’s stomach twisted. He held back the rage threatening to explode out of him. “Leverage?” It came out as a whisper.

“I have a job for you.”

Declan snarled. “I am done working for you.”

“One job, Declan. You do this for me, and I will release you from any further obligation. You, your brother, and Ms. O’Reilly can walk away and not look back.”

“I told you I am done working for you,” Declan muttered.

Clyde shrugged. “If you want to see Liv alive again, you have no choice.”

Declan clenched his fists. “What did you say?”

“I will let Olivia O’Reilly live if you do this job for me,” Clyde explained. “If you choose not to do as I ask, she is dead.”

“Wait a minute,” Conor interrupted. “You would kill your fiancée to prove a point? You would kill her to get Declan to do what you want? How fucked up is that?”

Clyde grimaced. “That bitch doesn’t mean anything to me. Donovan ordered me to marry her. Uncle Donovan insisted; it was supposed to unite the families.” Clyde rolled his eyes. “After what she did to me, I couldn’t care less about her. She betrayed me, stole from me. No one crosses the Muldoons and lives. No one crosses me and lives through it. But I will let Olivia live if you do this job. Your choice, Declan.”

“You bastard.” Declan dropped his gun on a small table by the door and lunged at Clyde. He knocked him to the floor, put his hands around Clyde’s throat, and pressed his thumbs to his windpipe. There was no way he would let Clyde kill another woman that he loved. No fucking way.

“Declan!” Conor yelled. He jumped on his friend’s back and struggled to pull him off the smaller man. “Let him go!”

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