35. Holden
Chapter 35
Holden
Day 1269 without you: If I close my eyes, I can almost imagine you’re singing just for me. Almost.
A rcher scratches his neck and widens his eyes in a way I’m pretty sure is supposed to mean, “Your girl. Your turn to answer. Good luck.”
Asshat.
But I also get it. This is a question Archer and I have discussed in depth more than once. We checked out everyone in Olivia’s life who could have a reason to want to harm her but also have access to her. Although the more aggressive incidents were hired out, meaning anyone could be responsible for them, we also have had situations like the new song or the guy who waited in her condo, where we know someone must have had access to her somehow. With the email, there is always a chance it could have been hacked from the outside, but explaining away the access card to the condo is more complex than that.
All in all, we have no fucking clue.
Olivia’s eyes are on me, her gaze trusting but also scared.
I take her hand and hold it, interlacing our fingers. Relishing the contact I’ve craved for so many years.
“Complete truth?”
She frowns but immediately nods. “Always. Please. I don’t need you to hold back with me.” She regards Archer. “Neither one of you needs to. I think we’ve had enough secrets for several lifetimes. So I vote full transparency.”
She raises her hand as if we’re in school, and I can’t help but smile.
“You’re too cute, but yes, full transparency.” I glance at Archer for confirmation, and he’s already nodding.
“Same here. The second we know something for sure, we’ll share it.”
His wording makes me pause, but Olivia must not have noticed the “for sure” since she lets out a relieved sigh. Does that mean he wants to keep his speculations to himself until they’re confirmed?
“Okay, good. Thank you.” Olivia taps her fingers on mine. “I guess that means no club this weekend either, huh? I’m a bit disappointed about that. I was looking forward to it, especially after you guys made it sound all mysterious and whatnot.”
Archer coughs a laugh. “Ah, right. I forgot Damien mentioned it. You could still go, you know? We might need to be more diligent with the disguise and make sure you’re not on the open floor. No playing with others for you.”
I can’t decide whether to smack Archer or high-five him. I’m not going to lie. I was excited to go too. For Olivia to get the whole experience, realizing how much double meaning Archer’s comments have.
She blinks at me with nothing but hope in her beautiful hazel eyes, and I get lost in them.
“Can we go? I could use some fun.”
Her voice is almost as pleading as her gaze, and I feel my resolve crumble. I’m unsure I can say no to this woman, even if I wanted to. And she’s right. She does deserve some fun after all this shit happening lately. As long as we make her unrecognizable and use the side entrance, we shouldn’t run into any issues. Hopefully.
A spark enters her eyes that I miss seeing more of. “I promise I’ll be good.”
My dick stirs at her words. Fucking hell.
Either she has no idea what she just did to me, or she’s pretending she doesn’t.
I raise my eyebrows. “Only if you listen to everything I say. We need rules to ensure we’re safe.”
She leans in and presses her lips to mine in a quick kiss. “You got it, thank you. I’m excited.”
Archer chuckles while Olivia gathers items from the table.
I hold my hand up. “Leave it. I’ll take care of it.”
“Are you sure? I want to help.”
“Yeah, we’ve got it.”
She smiles and pushes her chair back. “Well, thank you. I will take Stormy out back for a walk, and then I’ll lock myself in the studio for the next few hours.”
I get up and pull her into my arms. “Let me know if you need anything.”
“Will do.”
I push my fingers into her hair and brush it back, memorizing every inch of her beautiful face—every tiny freckle across the bridge of her nose, every small birthmark, every scar or line—before I lean in to capture her perfect, full lips. I get lost in the leftover taste of the strawberry jam she ate and the softness of everything her . Somehow, my hands find their way down her curves, diminishing any distance between us so I can feel her flush against me. Olivia’s arms snake around my neck, her nails digging into my scalp. She appears to lose herself just as much as I am.
A loud clank pulls me out of the bubble, and I glare at Archer as he picks up the knife he must have dropped. He mouths, “Oops,” and I flip him off behind Olivia’s back.
Olivia avoids Archer’s gaze, her cheeks a dark pink. “Well, I’ll see you guys later. Come on, Stormy. Let’s go outside.”
Stormy is happy to comply, and the two of them practically race toward the patio doors.
Archer adjusts his pants, shrugging when I raise my brow. “Don’t give me that look. You’re the ones who keep making out in front of me. Not my fault.”
His shrill ringtone sounds, and my retort dies on my tongue.
Archer frowns at the screen before he swipes it and lifts it to his ear. “You got something?”
I grab the dishes from the table and pile them together, taking several trips to the kitchen to put all the food away. Archer dished up an entire feast for us. While my hands are busy, my ears tune in to Archer’s side of the conversation. Sadly, it’s primarily hums and expletives, not giving me much to go on. Is this about some other job for our security company, or does this have something to do with Olivia? My frustration grows the longer I listen until Archer laughs.
“What did the dishwasher ever do to you?”
I didn’t realize he’d ended his call. “Huh?”
He points in my direction. “You just banged the plates into the dishwasher like they offended you personally.”
I grunt and ignore his comment. “Any news?”
He dips his head in a single nod. “Actually, yes.”
“And?”
He leans against the kitchen island and crosses his tattooed arms over his chest. “Do you remember Zeno?”
“The Italian guy from fighting?”
“Yeah. You fought him more than I did since he was just as massive as you were.”
I do remember getting the crap beaten out of me by him several times until I got more skilled, but I keep that to myself. “What about him?”
“Well, it turns out the guy who seems responsible for the car chase is somehow connected to Zeno.”
My brain is trying to put the puzzle pieces together, but no matter which way I try, they don’t fit. “Explain.”
“My contact just told me this guy, Marco Bianchi, has been growing in the underworld over the last year, making a name for himself for doing shady stuff. One of those things seems to have been the hit-and-run on Olivia and you, which we obviously know he failed at.”
“And how does Zeno fit into this?”
“Remember that the Italian Mafia cleaned out their ranks nationwide a while ago?”
I nod. It was the talk of the town, so to speak. Nothing seems scarier among criminals than getting picked off the streets at random.
“The team behind that cleanup was Matteo Santarossa’s.”
Ah. “The Mafia guy Zeno works with.”
“Yup,” Archer says. “And get this . . . Marco Bianchi was one of the guys they kicked out. Seems like he decided to do his own thing, building a large team of thugs right under everyone’s noses.”
I stare at him, processing the news. “And he’s responsible for the hit on us?”
Archer shakes his head. “As far as I know, he got hired for it, but of course, he had his lackeys do it. I can’t imagine he’s happy with the outcome, so we have to be extra cautious in case he tries again.”
I stare past him out the window, where Olivia’s playing catch with Stormy. A sudden longing to offer her a regular life hits me right in the chest. But then, our lives were never normal to begin with. Not individually or together.
Sometimes, it’s the everyday moments that matter most—like sitting with her at the dining table for breakfast, watching her play with the dog, or waking up with her in my arms—tangled hair and tired eyes included. Despite our chaotic lives, I want to have all those typical memories with her—every last one of them.
My feet have a mind of their own, carrying me over to the row of windows to have an even better view of my girl. My wife.
She doesn’t know it yet, but now that I’ve had her, she’ll never get rid of me. She’ll be mine forever. For good this time.
Quiet footsteps alert me to Archer’s presence next to me.
“What do you want to do?”
If it was that easy. “Do we know where to find Marco?”
He presses his lips into a flat line. “No one seems to know where he is. That asshole is hiding somewhere, letting others do his dirty work for him.”
“Awesome.” Irritation and frustration shoot through me, my mind running over the same information repeatedly, chasing answers that aren’t there. “Another person we have to find before something else happens.”
“I might have an idea.”