BLYSS (Blyss Trilogy #1) (32 page)

This feels like something out of a Shakespearean comedy. There’s always a fool, and they become tricked into believing in something that’s not there. Once the misunderstandings begin, a chain of events takes place, and those situations are hilarious. And then it ends.

Watching the fool go through all the motions is like watching a set of dominoes fall as the misunderstandings spread through the cast. The same is happening here, only it’s not funny. It’s not funny at all. This is not a comedy; it’s my life, and it’s screwed up twenty ways ’til Sunday. My conscience has been defiled. It’s a scene that could’ve taken place two thousand years ago, and yet it’s a scene repeated every day, and I’m not immune.

I’m on my third day in solitary confinement, and I’m miserable. I’ve tried doing a little bit of reading, movie-watching, and exercising…
 

I’m not complaining. I know it can be much worse.
 

Aw, hell. Yes, I am complaining! Who am I kidding?

I’ve been captive here for two weeks now, and have yet to see daylight. I’m going crazy, and I’m about to start methodically and rhythmically bang my head against the wall. The only thing stopping me from looking like I belong in an insane asylum is the smallest sliver of hope. I’m still clinging to a tiny bit of faith, praying I’ll be rescued. The second I’m free, I swear I will handcuff myself to Adam and never let him out of my sight. My heart aches at the thought of seeing Adam again. I want my family back. I think about all the men in my life—my father, Adam, and Jake. I can’t imagine what they all must be going through right now, especially Jake. My poor Jake—I can only hope he’s doing okay. I don’t know if he was shot or not; it was too dark to tell. Waking up here the following morning, any traces of blood I would have had from either Jake or my catfight were nowhere to be found. I assume it was Travis who’d cleaned me up that first night.

Having three days to stew and digest what happened between Travis and me has left me utterly-deflated. I’d like to think he would take me back under his wing again and protect me from Nick, just long enough until I’m rescued. Of course, I’d be setting myself up for the same humiliating and self-induced misery. Fool me once, shame on you…and all that jazz.
 
I turn my head toward the door, half-expecting to see Travis come through it at any moment, telling me my punishment is over. Maybe when I see him next, he’ll tell me he was just angry, and now that he’s had time to cool off, he would tell me he’s sorry and give me back my medallion. God, I really want my mother’s piece of jewelry back; I feel so bare without it.
 

Nick never did show his face after I toppled over the custom-made birthday cake. I’m glad. I wouldn’t have been able to take any more punishment of any kind. I would’ve begged for death if that were the case. After Travis took my medallion, he ripped my heart and soul out. The bastard left me hanging on that cross for three hours before someone finally came along and took me down, and it was someone I hadn’t seen before. They must have thought I would either be suicidal or homicidal, because they drugged me again. At the time, I was leaning more toward the latter myself.

I find myself chewing on my thumbnail, still studying the door. My gosh, I can’t imagine what I’d be feeling right now if I was still taking those drugs. I’d be climbing the walls, sexually frustrated, and out of my mind—literally and figuratively. Blyss really had my reasoning skills twisted in a pretzel knot. Hell, I’d been fantasizing about Travis twenty-four-seven. That’s pretty messed-up.
 

Even days after quitting the aphrodisiac, I found myself still struggling to think straight. That concoction, just let me tell you, is some seriously powerful shit. I could feel myself going through a withdrawal phase, going back and forth in seconds between wanting to have wild, passionate sex with Travis and simultaneously wanting to murder him, and I had even contemplated taking just one pill to help me get over the hump, but I refused. I would wake up in the middle of the night sweating profusely, and at times during the day, I would find myself shaking uncontrollably.

Figuring out a way to dispose of that shit was one of the best ingenuities I’ve ever come up with in my entire life. Now, if I could just apply some of those brain cells to finding a way out of here.
 

I let out a sigh. It’s time to keep myself moving. Having an idle mind drives me nuts, but sitting around doing nothing is even worse. I bend down, scooting the coffee table out of the way, getting the area ready so I can do another workout. I turn on the TV and begin flipping through the channels on the remote control. I pause in my channel surfing when I hear my door opening. I turn toward the door, and my eyes alight with glee at the sight of a visitor.

It’s Travis, and
oh, God
, he’s a sight for sore eyes. He looks his usual handsome and edible self, and damn if I don’t hate myself a little bit more for being so starved for attention, especially his. Setting the remote down on the coffee table, I take a step toward him then stop in my tracks when I notice he still looks angry. I feel my heart falter; something isn’t right, and my brow furrows. My lips turn down into a questioning frown as he slowly approaches. Travis’ stance is rigid, and his demeanor holds a chilling aura all around him. My eyes flash over his; he’s making me nervous.
 

The look on his face tells me he’s all business, and he’s glaring at me. His eyes are stone-cold. I swallow the lump in my throat. There is no way he can still be this angry over what happened three days ago. Surely, we can get past this, can’t we?

I had planned to ask him about my medallion the next time he came to see me, but by the looks of him, I dare not utter a word. It appears that if things were messed-up before between us, they are lying in a heap of shambles now.
 

His eyes have no life to them; his emotions are totally shut down. “Have you learned anything…anything at all yet. Do you now understand there is no escape.” These are not actual questions, only cold, harsh statements. Memories from the wrath he released upon me three days ago begin washing over me anew. I want to fall to my knees and cry. “From now on, you do as you’re told; this was the last time any solitary confinement will ensue after an outburst. The next time we have to contend with your...” he pauses, waving his hand around in the air with a look of distaste in his mouth, “…behavior, you will have an entirely different set of punishments raining down on you.”

My eyes widen with shock, and my neck stretches forward.
Am I hearing this right?
 
Travis has plastered new brick and mortar over the cracks and crevices of his heart, leaving me on the outside in the cold. My gut twists, because gone is the consoling Travis I had from day one.
 

“Acknowledge me when I speak to you!” His loud voice thunders across the room, and my body automatically jolts, taking a step backwards. I swallow hard. I don’t know what the hell to say, other than, “Yes, sir.”
 

Apparently, that’s what he wanted, because he nods his head once in acceptance. He snaps his fingers with a sharp crack and points to the floor in front of him. “On your knees.” Suddenly, my legs feel weak.
Surely this isn’t...
”Now! Never hesitate, and if I say it again, you will spend more than just three hours tied to that cross,” his brows lift and his forehead crinkles, “and trust me—it will be far more unpleasant for you than it will be for me.”

I’m flabbergasted. This isn’t what I expected at all. I move quickly, my heart knocking against my ribcage. My body sinks down on shaky legs as I kneel down on the cold, hard tile in front of his towering frame. Peering through my eyelashes, looking up, I suppose I must look like a doe at the mercy of a hunter.

“Anytime someone walks through this door from now on, I expect you front and center in this position. I don’t care if you’re in bed or on the toilet; you make haste.”

“Yes, sir,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Nick is taking over now. This is where the shit gets real, Princess. No one is going to hold your hand anymore, especially me. If you disrespect Nick, even in the slightest, he will have your skin.” I shiver, knowing without a doubt Nick will rip my flesh clean off using one of those whips. I nod my head in acknowledgment.
 

He’s fast—so fast, I didn’t even see him move. I suddenly feel a hot prickling sensation, and throbbing ensues from the back of my head. I’m instantly eye-to-eye with an angry Travis. His one hand is mercilessly entwined in the hair on the back of my head in a death grip. “What did I teach you?!”
Oh, shit.
“You nod your head one more time, and I’ll knock it off your fucking shoulders!” I swallow hard, believing him as I watch the muscles clench in his jaw.
 

His familiar leather scent wafts under my nose as his lips hover over mine. Looking at him, I think back to our first kiss. My tongue can almost remember what he tastes like. Just another couple of inches and he could close the gap between us, and press his lips to mine, but his eyes tell me he’s so far away.
 

I miss the feel of his touch, and how his strength contradicts his tender ministrations. I crave that feeling when my stomach flutters each time he delicately brushes his soft, tender lips over mine. I just want to lean in, close the distance myself, and take us back where we belong.
Where is it I belong?
I’ve only hurt myself by fantasizing, and I let myself lose track of what’s real. He wound up taking a piece of my flesh in the process—my heart—and what did he do with it? He ripped it in two.

My God, look at what I’ve reduced myself to! Am I a Stockholm victim? Am I crazy? Was I the only one who felt something when we were together?
Of course, it’s hard for me to decipher whether or not either one of our feelings were valid, since they had me drugged the entire time.

The fleeting thought of closing the distance with a kiss evaporates when Travis’ grip tightens to the point I think he’s going to rip a clump of my hair out by its roots. My eyes bolt wide open from the pain as I cry out at the top of my lungs. I can barely manage to croak out, “Yes, sir,” because of the stinging pain.

He roughly lets go of my hair, and I feel my head sway. My eyes flutter closed as I feel each hair follicle scream out in agony, and I find myself looking back up at him with incredulous disbelief. He’s never manhandled me so terribly before. I can now see how people literally piss their pants in this situation. The brutality of this sudden and intense terror intimidates me, and I know I am no match for this man.

I shake my head. I don’t want this side of Travis. I would rather have the master manipulator back. I tilt my head further back, looking into his hard gaze with wary caution. Trying to make amends, I softly whisper, “I’m so sorry. I…I never wanted this.” Catching my breath between words, I feel a few silent tears cascade over my cheeks. I can’t help it. “I never asked for this…but you…you…made life a little more bearable here…on the inside.” My voice is croaky, and I fight desperately against having a total breakdown. “I’m sorry for ruining that. I want—“

He bends down, his hands propping on his knees, and I watch his knuckles turn white from his hard grip. I shift my eyes back up to his as he gets in my face like a drill sergeant. “What you want, Princess, is inconsequential. I didn’t come here to listen to you whine and snivel.” His voice is hard as steel as his words slap me in the face. I drop my gaze back to the floor, letting my blonde hair create a barrier between us. The man in front of me is not the Travis I came to know. No, this is the emotionless and ruthless killer Travis I caught glimpses of the first day I met him when he wanted to snap the necks of those men who had handled me so brutality.

He’s harsh and uncaring, and I don’t see him switching gears anytime soon either. He’s had three days to cool off, and if the way he’s acting today is any indication of him relenting from the cruel treatment I’m receiving, it will be a cold day in Hell before he changes his mind.
 

“Tears aren’t going to save you, sweetheart, not anymore,” he says detestably. “You can shed those on your own time, not on mine.” His words bite, and in order to avert my emotional pain to physical, I sink my teeth into my lower lip hard. It doesn’t matter what I say or how I try to say it; the new protocol he’s putting in place for me is ringing loud and clear.

“From now on, you are not to speak unless you’re asked to respond. Your eyes will remain on the floor at all times from this moment forward.”
 

You know when you were a kid and your parent said not to touch the hot stove burner, but you just had to find out for yourself? Yeah, well, that was me. As soon as Travis said eyes down, my eyes trailed in the opposite direction.
 

“Eyes down!” His eyes flared as he barks out viciously. I force my gaze to the ground, clasping my hands together on my lap, twisting them in a knot, and desperately trying to keep them from visibly shaking. Surely, he can’t still be this hot under the collar from what happened at the birthday luncheon? What did I do?
Oh, shit, maybe they found out about me cheating the biosensor toilet.
My eyes go wide with worry, and my heart pounds in my chest at the thought of being busted. I remain quiet, though; I’m not stupid. I’m not going to spill the beans unless I’m called out on it.

“This shit can’t get any more real than it already is, little one. You belong to Nick. Nick owns you. The fun and games are over. You’ve had enough time to adjust.” My heart thrums loudly in my chest at his words. Then I feel his hand sweep over the top of my head, and I shiver. I want that touch to mean something different, but I know he’s petting me like he’s the owner of a dog. My stomach lurches, and I’m about to vomit on his shoes.