“Olivia,” Finn repeats my name. This time, he grabs me by the shoulder, and I hit the ground like my life depends on it. The moment his firm hand grabbed my flesh I was taken back again, and now my stomach rolls in agony. Nausea cripples me and I close my eyes, inhaling deeply through my nose. “Olivia, are you alright?” Finn’s voice drops a few keys, and he seems visibly worried as his voice shakes.
I clear my throat and stammer my words. “Y-yeah.”
“I’m so sorry. It wasn’t my intention to scare you. I was just trying to, erm, I was . . . I suppose it doesn’t matter now.” Through his words I wonder if he’s analyzing the situation, trying to see where he went wrong. The fact of the matter is he probably didn’t. This is all me. Every bit of this is my fear.
Rémy comes walking in wearing a wife beater and a pair of jeans. His new tattoo shows proudly on his left shoulder, still wrapped. “Liv?”
“I’m good,” I tell him, and the way his dramatic eyebrows raise practically strikes me dead.
“Girl, you are the worst liar on the planet. What’s the matter with you? Do you want some chamomile tea or something? I know you like that shit when you get in a fuss or whatever,” Rémy comments.
Immediately, I nod. “Yes, some tea would be great.”
Rémy offers me his hand. I take it, pull myself up, and look back at Finn. “I’m sorry, just give me a little bit if that’s okay? You can meet me upstairs if you want . . .” I say the last bit very lowly so my brother doesn’t hear what I’ve said. I’m not sure what’ll happen whenever I get upstairs tonight, but I just want to get to know Finn more. I want to see if he means what he says. If he’s as gentle as he seems, and most of all . . . I want to know if he’s the type of man I can see myself pulling my walls down for.
At the end of the day, we’ll be married, but it’s my decision if I want to care about the man whose last name I’ll eventually take.
Rémy pulls me away before I get a response from Finn, and the next thing I know, we’re in the kitchen. Rémy’s grabbing the porcelain container I keep my teabags in and hands it over to me, and I take a seat at the kitchen island.
“Now, I know you know better than to lie to one of us, so what the fuck is running through that mind of yours?” Rémy questions.
I inhale deeply through my mouth and shrug. “I don’t know, Rémy, I’m so . . . so . . . God, I don’t know!”
“Conflicted, confused, constipated. You gotta give me something here, sis.” Rémy’s words immediately make me start laughing, and then tears come crashing out. Tears I didn’t even realize were on the verge of coming down anyway.
“I’m s-scared, Rémy. I’m scared of opening m-myself up to h-him.” My feelings come rushing out as quickly as my tears do, and my brother comes around the island and looks right at me.
“I’m gonna hug you, so know it’s coming,” he tells me, and I appreciate what he’s doing. Any sudden movements that involve me being touched freak me out so bad. It’s been horrible since that night, and I know it’s only natural given what I experienced . . . but still. It doesn’t mean I like it.
Rémy wraps his arms around me and moves his hand along my back in a soothing manner. “You’ve been through hell, Liv. Fuck, you’ve survived shit most women would’ve offed themselves over. You’re the strongest, most fearless woman I know. But, when I tell you that you don’t have anything to be afraid of when it comes to Finn, know I mean it. There is nothing to be scared of. He’s one of the only good guys I know.” Rémy kisses me on the temple and pulls away from me.
“Good guy?” I ask, cocking a brow. I might be scared but I’m not an idiot. There aren’t any good guys in the mafia.
“He’s as good as they come, alright? Fuck, he’s one of those bastards from the romance books you read. The one who burns down the world to be with the chick he loves.”
“They’re called anti-heroes, Rémy,” I speak lowly, and I do love a good anti-hero romance.
“Whatever. The point is I know you’ve endured some heavy shit, Liv, but you’ve survived the impossible. I get being afraid, but that man in there, he is one of the good ones, and I mean it. You know my biggest flaw is being brutally honest, so, I mean, I must be telling the truth.”
I scoff and laugh at the same time, and Rémy smiles. “It’s good to hear you laugh. Now, are you okay?”
I nod once. “Yeah, sorry for having a dark moment, and I’m sorry for needing you to come to the rescue.”
“Stop it. I didn’t do shit.” Rémy waves his hand in dismissal. “But, Liv . . . I think you can be happy with him and if anyone deserves it, it’s you.” Rémy smiles and walks out of the kitchen, and as he disappears from my view, I realize I need to listen to him. He’s right, and I do deserve happiness. I just don’t know if Finn is the happiness I seek, but I do know one thing—I’m going to find out.
Chapter Seven
Finn
Last night, I passed out from sheer exhaustion when I got upstairs to Olivia’s room. I’ve been in the DeLancy house enough times to know which room is hers, so it’s not like I had to ask or anything.
I guess I was far more tired than I thought. I’d taken my shirt off along with my socks and shoes when I stretched out on her bed last night.
With the sun shining in through the blinds, I know the second I see floral wallpaper that this wasn’t a dream. For a moment, I thought it was. My arm is wrapped around Olivia’s waist while she sleeps with her head pressed to my chest. I’ve been with a lot of women, but I can say there haven’t been any that I’ve held in my arms while we slept. No one has ever been this important to me, and the only thing I wanted from others was to get off. I always returned the favor, but as soon as I was done with my partner, their ass was hitting the door. No one would ever sleep in my bed, especially after I set my eyes on this gem of a woman.
Laying with Olivia in my arms is a new experience for me, and it’s one I know I want to do for the rest of my life. I didn’t mean to make her fall to the ground last night when I was trying to get her to talk to me. She freaked out and I know something happened to her. In fact, I know exactly what’s happened to her and it makes me see red.
Olivia should never have to know the type of fear I saw in her eyes last night. If anything, it signifies the importance of our relationship. I’ll wait for her to tell me when she’s ready for something more. I won’t rush her. In fact, I refuse to. Even if I have to wait months or a year, we won’t do anything that’s not at her pace.
Opening my eyes, I blink against the brightness of the room and tilt my head to look at the woman who’s meant to be mine. Olivia looks peaceful in her sleep. Her hair is fanned out behind her head. I lift the hand that isn’t holding her to me and brush my fingers through the softness of her deep brunette locks. I could definitely get used to this. She’s absolutely beautiful like this, without a speck of makeup on her face. In fact, when she’s asleep, she looks so damn peaceful.
Olivia stirs slightly, attempting to roll over, but as she does, she whacks me in the face with her elbow. “Fuck!” I didn’t see that coming, quite literally.
Olivia jolts awake and turns to face me. Her eyes are wide but I can see she’s still half-awake. Granted, I can’t even wake up without coffee. She takes a moment to adjust to the light and become more focused. “What happened?” she whispers her question in a half-groggy tone.
“You whacked me in the face with your elbow, but it doesn’t matter. Good morning, beautiful,” I murmur gruffly, raking my fingers in the long, luscious hair I love so much.
“Shit, I’m sorry.” Olivia pauses for a moment like she’s waiting for me to say something, but I don’t, so she continues. “You fell asleep before I could get up here.”
“Yeah, I guess you can say I haven’t slept well the last few days. Stuff back home hasn’t been easy to deal with,” I tell her, being truthful about it but not telling her the reasons.
Olivia nods in understanding. I don’t miss the way her eyes drop to
my mouth. I keep my fingers in her hair, playing with the thick strands.
Eyes come back to meet mine, and she lifts herself onto her elbows.
“I want to kiss you,” I tell her, keeping my tone as soft as possible. The last thing I want to do right now is scare her, or move too fast.
“So, kiss me,” she utters quietly, and I don’t hesitate. I’ve wanted to kiss her for years. Lifting my head, I brush my lips to hers softly, using the hand that’s still wrapped in her hair to cup the back of her head.
I swipe my tongue along the seam of her lips, encouraging her to open for me. When she does, I slip inside and deepen the kiss. Olivia moans into my mouth, and I take it as a good sign that I’m not doing something she doesn’t want or like.
Adjusting us, I lay her on her back and cage her in with my bigger body. I won’t keep this going for much longer, but just long enough for me to get my fill for the time being. Now that I’ve had a taste of her, I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of it.
When I pull away, breaking the connection of our mouths, I meet her gaze as she opens her eyes, her breathing labored.
“How about I take you for breakfast and coffee this morning, then we spend the day together?” I suggest, hoping she agrees since I do have some plans I need her to tend to with me.
“I would like to do that,” she murmurs, still catching her breath. I give her a grin and slowly kiss her once more.
“Good,” I rasp against her lips and lift my head. “Go ahead and get ready. I’ll use the shower in the guest bathroom and change. I’ve got clothes in the trunk of the car.”
“You do?” she asks, furrowing her brow in confusion.
“Yeah, I keep a bag in there for when I’m at my house in Port Sulphur. It’s just easier for me that way.” What I don’t tell her is that the bag is filled with clothes for if I get dirty, and by dirty, I mean bloody. I learned a long time ago to keep a spare set just as a precaution. You never know when someone might cross you and you have to put them in their place or in the ground.
Nodding, she accepts my answer, and I move away so she can get up. I move to her door, giving her one last look. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”
“Okay, I’ll be ready,” she says and climbs out of bed.
I leave the room, go out to my car, get my bag, glare at her asshole of a bodyguard, and go back inside. I shower quickly and get ready for the day. It’s a big day and I don’t intend to waste a minute of it not being with Olivia.
Thirty minutes later, Olivia is coming down the stairs and smiles at me.
“Ready?” I ask, holding my arm out for her to take.
“Yes,” she says, placing her hand in the crook of mine.
I guide her out of the house and out to my car, ignoring her bodyguard even as she tells him he doesn’t have to worry she’s with me. I don’t miss the way he tenses up and goes on the offensive every time he sees me.
We get to the little café I like to come to when I’m in town. Putting our order in, we go take a seat at a table on the patio.
Before the waitress can bring our coffee to us, a man in his twenties comes up to our table and hands a napkin to Olivia. “Hey, gorgeous, I haven’t seen you in here before.” He chuckles.
Pissed, I take the napkin to find it has the guy’s number on it. “Hey, fuckface, you see I’m trying to enjoy the morning with my fiancée?” I quip. It’s not like I wasn’t already sitting across from Olivia, holding her hand. This asshole must have a set of balls on him.
“Fiancée? I don’t see a ring on her finger. Means she’s a free agent,” he snickers.
“I don’t think so, asshole. Her ring is at the jeweler’s, and I’m sitting right fuckin’ here, now back the hell off before I put a bullet between your eyes,” I snarl, standing from my seat. Olivia doesn’t say anything as she stands with me and faces the guy.
“I’m flattered, but I think it’s best you run off and hand this to someone else.” Olivia hands the napkin back to the stranger. “And if I were you, I’d skedaddle as soon as you can. He hasn’t had his coffee and he’s not a morning person.”
Shit, I can’t wait until tomorrow. It’s when Gianina told me the ring options would be ready, and then Olivia can have something sparkly so everyone knows she can’t be approached. I’m sure some will try, but seeing how she handled this, I know she’ll deal with whoever steps foot near her.
Chapter Eight
Olivia
“Did you not hear me?” Finn questions with a strained voice.
“Sorry, what?” I glance up from my book. I’ve been tucked away in the sunroom for the last couple hours, trying to finish this thriller novel. I might have forty pages left and I want to get to the end so badly.
“We need to get going. We have an appointment.” Finn raises his hardened brows, showing me the seriousness of the situation. Hell, I didn’t even know he was here. When did he get here? He’s slipped in the sunroom so many times without me knowing, which I know should be terrifying. No one can get on the premises unless they have a keycode to open the gates, and I’m certain our security team assesses every potential threat. Finn isn’t a threat in the least bit. While I probably didn’t know it when we started all this, I’m peeling back the layers and understanding how gentle of a man he truly is.
He says we have an appointment, though I don’t recall him telling me about anything. Now my curiosity is eating away at me. “We do? Where?”
Finn rolls his eyes and shakes his head. He even wipes a hand over his face and stifles a laugh. “Remind me to never talk to you while your nose is in that damn book.” Finn points to the book I’m reading. The same one my brother ripped from my hands about a week ago. “The jewelry store. I told you I made an appointment so we could go look at rings together.”
I swallow hard at Finn’s words. He made an appointment so both of us could go? My word. I almost think I’m not hearing him right for a moment. “You’re not just getting one and sliding it on my finger?” Is he screwing with me right now? He could be. Finn and I are getting married to make sure his evil brother doesn’t gain control over the Southwest . . . he doesn’t have to take me out and do all this.
“It’s something I hope you’ll be wearing for twenty, thirty, maybe even forty years down the line. I want you to love it, and I’m not exactly seasoned when it comes to knowing what type of jewelry women like.”
Here he goes again, completely amazing me. Finn isn’t being required to do any of this. He’s been kind, showed me the deepest, most special parts of his heart. I’ve known women in arranged marriages who are never treated this well, or even acknowledged most of the time. The only time they are is for furthering their line.
I know Finn isn’t like that, though, so why am I even thinking this way? Beats me. He’s proven to me time and time again he’s not like the others. Hell, he’s continuing to do so. I’m slowly starting to realize being with him might not be the worst thing in the world. He’s kind, even though he can be brazen. He’s handsome, even though there are ugly parts of him I accept, and I’m not talking about looks. His ugliness is in his actions, but my brothers have the same sort of ugliness too. It all comes hand-in-hand with being part of the mafia.
I softly smile. “Thank you for making this experience so . . . sweet.”
Finn scoffs and takes a few steps toward me, and then extends a hand. “It’s my pleasure. This is more than an arrangement to me, Olivia, and I see it’s becoming different for you too, and I hope we can continue on this track.”
I take his hand and close my book with my alternate one. He helps me up and the two of us walk alongside each other through the sunroom, into the backyard, and then head to his car. As always, he walks around me and begins to open the door.
“Do you need company, Miss Olivia?” Mason, my personal bodyguard, asks from the gate leading into the backyard.
Immediately, Finn tenses and clenches his jaw. He isn’t happy at all. “No, I’m fine, but thank you.”
&
nbsp; “Alright. If you need me, call,” Mason states, and I smile back politely. He stands at the gate, and Finn helps me get into the passenger side. He shuts my door and walks around the other side. Meanwhile, I toss the skirt of my deep sea-green dress over my legs and try to not focus on Mason. The way he’s being is making me a little nervous. He’s never been so protective of me before, and since Finn’s been around his need to serve and protect, I guess, well, it’s growing more intense.
Finn gets behind the wheel, and before I know it, he’s taking off. “I really don’t like that guy,” Finn grumbles, and I know exactly who he’s talking about.
“He’s harmless. Mason only wants to make sure I’m okay.” Immediately I come to Mason’s defense, but deep down, I feel a sense of uneasiness too.
Finn glances over at me for a second. “Come on, you’re a smart woman. The man’s in fuckin’ love with you. He needs to know his damn place, Olivia. You’re marrying me, not him.”
I’m completely caught off guard by Finn’s words. “A bit overprotective, but he’s not in love with me, Finn. That’s crazy.”
Finn cackles beside me. “Is it, though? You’re beautiful, smart, have a great sense of humor, and the most fun I’ve ever seen you have is either at a family dinner, or when your nose is stuck in a book. You’re every man’s dream, sociable but not overly so.”
While Finn drives, he asks me questions about what I envision our wedding looks like. I tell him what every girl wants, the white dress, lots of beautiful flowers, friends and family gathered close by, and the best food. One thing I’ve figured out rather quickly is how much we’re both foodies. The other day he took me to this place down in New Orleans. We walked down an alley and it made me nervous as can be, but we came out to this area with five or six food trucks. Every truck was a different style of cuisine and we both tried so many new things. It was a fun date, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have a great time.
Deprave (DeLancy Crime Family Book 2) Page 4