Page 31 of Taken By the Mobster

Chapter 15

Olivia

I won’t stop until Clyde Braniff is dead.

Declan’s words played on repeat in Olivia’s head. Eighteen hours later, she was still thinking about them. He planned to kill Clyde.

Olivia didn’t know if it was even possible. Could Declan kill Clyde? She knew if, given the opportunity, he would attempt it; the real question was whether Declan could get to Clyde and kill him before Clyde’s men intervened. They protected the man better than the president. Maybe better.

If Declan could somehow get to Clyde, she wanted to be there to witness his death. She needed to see it. She hoped to hear Clyde scream and beg for his life. Ultimately, she prayed she would see him bleed. Witnessing his demise would help heal her broken soul.

Olivia vowed to stay alive long enough to see it happen. She would do anything to help destroy Clyde. Anything.

After eating dinner with her, Declan informed her of his plan to send Walsh and Murphy to Ohio. Once they were on the road, he and Conor planned to disappear. Declan wanted her to go with them. When she questioned him about his plans to eliminate Clyde, he wouldn’t expand on them, only assured her it would happen.

“I am determined to make it happen,” he muttered.

Declan kissed the corner of her mouth when he left her, and he didn’t lock the door. She could go to the bathroom and clean up, and she even went downstairs to check on Drew. She passed Conor in the hall on the way but didn’t say anything; he merely smiled and nodded before stepping into one of the other rooms.

Drew was asleep when she entered his room. She didn’t want to wake him up, so she gave him a quick once-over to make sure his bandages were in place and no infections were visible. Then she returned to her room. She intended to stay as far away from Walsh as possible, less chance of him figuring out who she was. If she slipped and he discovered she was Clyde’s runaway bride, she knew Walsh would serve her up on a silver platter to the mob boss. Staying away from him was the safest strategy.

Olivia reflected on the last week as she lay on the bed. But the one thing her mind kept returning to was Declan.

The memory of the kiss they’d shared the night before lingered like the scent of roses in a flower shop. She couldn’t stop thinking about how warm and solid Declan was, how he tasted like warm whiskey and smelled like leather and gunpowder. His touch was gentle, his caresses gentle. Olivia had forgotten what it was like to be in his arms and now that she had experienced it again, she didn’t want it to end. She was falling back in love with Declan Quinn: bank robber, mobster, and kidnapper. Her kidnapper.

After growing up with a mobster for a father, Olivia vowed she would never get involved with a man in the same business. She was done with that life: the terror, the pain, the agony of living life in the Mafia. Getting out of that life was her only goal. Growing up, she’d lived in fear something would happen to her family because of the life her father led. Her father took away her chance to get out when he forced her into an engagement to satisfy family obligations.

She wanted Declan, and she hated herself for it.

Olivia drifted in and out of sleep, the thoughts in her head mingling with the dreams her subconscious created. The sound of the door opening and closing pulled her back to reality. She scrambled out of the bed and squinted into the darkness.

“Hello?” she whispered.

Someone reached for her in the dark, their hand closing around her upper arm and yanking her close. Instinct took over, and she lashed out, her hand landing a blow on the person’s chest and her foot connecting with their shin. She let out a startled squeak as she scrambled to get away.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, Liv. It’s me, Declan.”

His deep, raspy voice was unmistakable. Olivia let out a shaky breath and tried to relax, despite her pounding heart.

“You scared me,” she muttered.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you,” Declan said. He released her and took a step back.

“I just … for a second, it brought back—,” she whispered. “Clyde, uh, he did … things to me.” She squeezed her hands together in front of her and prayed they would stop shaking.

Declan rubbed her upper arm. “What did he do to you?” he asked.

Olivia shook her head. “I-I can’t.” She hadn’t told anyone what Clyde had done to her. Her breath caught in her throat, and she had to swallow an unexpected sob rising from her chest. She turned her back on Declan and put her hand over her mouth. Shame washed over her.

Declan came up behind her, and his huge, warm hands settled on her hips and light stubble scratched her neck as he pressed his mouth to her ear. “I am so sorry he hurt you. I swear to God, I will make him pay for it.” He rested his cheek against the side of her head.

“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me, Declan,” she whispered.

“I know,” he replied. “But I want to do it. For both of us.” He kissed her temple. “I hate that you’re afraid.”

Olivia stated confidently, “I’m not afraid of you.”

“Liv, I promise I won’t hurt you.”

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