Page 47 of Taken By the Mobster

Olivia sighed, clutched the lapels of his jacket, and buried her face against his chest. She needed to touch him, to feel his breath on her face, and his lips on hers. “Declan, you’re here.”

“Yeah, baby, in the flesh,” he whispered. He ducked his head and caught her lips in his, kissing her breathless.

He was here, he was alive, and she was never letting him go again.

Ruth cleared her throat.

Declan glanced at Ruth over his shoulder, then he checked his watch. “We better go. Now. Ruthie?”

Ruth nodded. “Yes, sir.” She gestured for them to follow her as she hurried down the hallway.

Declan brushed another kiss across Olivia’s lips, then he took her hand as they followed Ruth through the winding maze of corridors in the house. She led them to a set of stairs, narrow and rarely used from the looks of the dust mites gathered in the corners of each step.

Ruth pointed at the narrow staircase. “There,” she said. “Go down the stairs and out the door at the bottom. You’ll come out the side entrance on the north side of the house.” She looked behind her. “You need to hurry.”

Conor squeezed Ruth’s hand. “What are you doing, Ruth? You’re coming with us.”

Ruth took a step back. “Not this time, Conor. I need to stay here.”

“Ruthie,” Conor grumbled.

“It’s alright, Conor,” she insisted. “As long as Donovan and Clyde think I’m on their side, I’m safe.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Conor said. “You know what’s about to happen.”

“I’ll be fine,” Ruth said. She rested her hands on his chest, stood on her toes, and pressed a lingering kiss to Conor’s lips. “I promise. Go. Now.”

“I’m coming back for you,” Conor said.

“I know.” Ruth pointed a finger at Declan. “You take care of Olivia. I mean it.” She turned and ran back the way they’d come.

Men stampeding through the house, doors slamming, yelling, and cursing echoed through the house. Conor turned and darted down the stairs, Declan and Olivia right behind him. Declan kept Olivia between him and Conor in their headlong rush down the stairs.

They burst through the door and stumbled down a short set of stairs. “Where’s the car?” Declan asked.

Conor took a minute to get his bearing, then he pointed at the east side of the house. “That way.”

“How much longer do we have?” Declan inquired.

Conor checked his watch. “It should be any minute now. We need to hurry.”

They took off in a dead run. The men behind them shouted as they rounded the corner and the car came into view. Declan hustled Olivia across the lawn to the car parked beneath the trees, while Conor hung back, gun drawn and raised. When they reached the car, Declan yanked open the door and shoved Olivia inside.

“Stay down,” he ordered.

“Declan—,” she protested.

“I mean it, Liv.” His tone left no room for argument. “Stay down.” The door slammed shut.

Olivia ducked behind the front seat as the sound of gunfire filled the night air. She screamed, terror flooding her like an overflowing dam. Her first instinct was to throw open the door and run to Declan. She saw his muscled back and broad shoulders through the window above her head and heard him shouting orders at Conor.

She slapped her hands over her ears and cringed when another burst of gunfire erupted near the car. Declan and Conor dropped to the ground as gunfire came from every direction and bullets hit the car. Olivia ducked her head and tried to make herself as small as possible.

A sudden explosion rocked the car, breaking all the windows and showering her in glass. Olivia pushed herself to her knees as another blast shook the car. She peered out the cracked back window. The night sky was lit up like the sun had risen and heat rolled across the dew- sprinkled lawn. The sounds of fear, anger, and pain echoed through the night air.

Declan opened the back door and fell inside. He grabbed Olivia and shoved her beneath him, using his body to shield her.

“Go, Conor!” he shouted.

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