Blyssfully Undone: The Blyss Trilogy - book 3 (33 page)

BOOK: Blyssfully Undone: The Blyss Trilogy - book 3
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I’m thankful once we’re on the ATV and she wraps her arms around me. I wasn’t sure if she was going to be listless deadweight or not; otherwise, I would be helping Stryker pitch that tent. We make it to the bunker with a little daylight to spare, and I cut the engine. I slip off the ATV, taking Jules by the hands, and she dismounts for me.

“Do you want me to carry you, or do you want to walk?” I ask softly. She stares at me blankly and takes a step toward the bunker on her own. I consider that an improvement. I unlock the bunker and take her by the hand, guiding her inside. She walks into the little living room and just stands there, staring at nothing.
Shit.

I decide at this point I’m not taking any chances. She’s not going to escape me this time. I reset the alarm to lock us in using a different code. If I get some sleep tonight, it will be a miracle. When I turn around, I’m met with a hateful glare. My brows rise.
What the hell did I do now?
This is certainly a different emotion than what I’ve been given all day.

I take a step forward in her direction and she snaps.

“Is it your turn again to take me hostage? Locking me behind a steel door now, Travis? What’s in it for you this time? Hmm?” Intense sarcasm drips from her voice, and then she gets animated. “What?” she questions. “You want a piece of this too?” she asks, pointing her finger inward at her body while making wide, continuous circles over her torso, referring to her person.

“Did you get your little toy taken from you? Aww…the poor baby. You want it back?” she mocks as if she’s talking down to a kid, and then she turns into Jekyll, unleashing her fury on me.

“You want to fuck this? Tell me, Travis. What are your
fetishes
?” she air quotes with her fingers. “You tried to train me for Nick, but I don’t believe you’ve trained me for your very own proclivities. Do you have some toys floating around here that you want to give a whirl? Tell me…how can I please
you
, Sir, Master…which do you prefer?”

Lunacy has gotten ahold of her. I really just want to bust out laughing at her absurdities. I bite my cheek with force, trying to keep my own sanity in check. It’s been a long fucking day. I have never seen a more pissed-off Jules, but anger is good; it means she’s letting it out. I’ll take anything over her being a zombie, withdrawing into the abyss of nothingness. This? This I can handle.

“You can hate me all you want. I’m not going to let you go,” I simply state. “We’ve got a lot of shit to work out, and in the end, if you still want to walk away, so be it.”

“I want to walk away now,” she snarls. “Open that Godforsaken door now, Travis.”

“No, I don’t think so.” Amazingly, I feel calm. “When I feel you’ve healed enough, then I’ll let you be, but not until then.”

“You are nothing but one big lie! Everything you say, you do the opposite.” Then she stands to her full height, and in the calmest manner she can muster, she requests again, “Open that door now, please.”

Jules

“I’m sorry,” he replies, politely mocking my tone, “but that’s just not going to happen. I have a chance to save you, and that’s what I’m going to do.”

My eyes turn wide, stricken with incredulous disbelief. “Is that what I am to you? A charity case?” My voice then screeches incrementally higher. “
A fucking charity case?!
I don’t need your fucking sympathy or your charity. You can shove that shit back up your ass.”

I make a break for the door, trying to punch in the numbers that I had memorized, but they don’t work. “Dammit!” I scream, pounding on the keypad. I’m so sick of being locked up. When I first stepped foot inside this bunker, I was starting to calm down. That was, until I heard the sound of Travis entering numbers into the keypad, locking us in.

“Open this damn door now!” I hiss through gritted teeth.

He grabs me by the shoulders and spins me around. I’m so furious I raise my hand to haul off and slap him, but he’s too quick. He catches my wrist just before my hand meets his face. I struggle against his strong grip, his fingers painfully digging into my skin. Before I can strike him with my other fist, he captures that one too. I can’t break free. I have so much rage radiating off me my upper lip twitches. He breathes in my face like a charging bull. Yeah, he’s pissed off something wicked, but his anger doesn’t faze me in the least.

“Let me go,” I hiss. He ignores me and pushes the weight of his body against mine, forcing my back to slam against the steel door, taking my breath away. He forcefully places my hands above my head, his eyes fierce with determination.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” he barks in my face. “You are anything
but
a charity case to me.” I struggle again, not wanting to hear anything he has to say.

We’re in a standoff, each of us challenging the other with a set of narrowed eyes. The tension is just as thick and solid as the steel door I’m pressed against.

“Did you mean it?” he growls with a sneer.

“Did I mean what?” I spit back.

“You said you loved him. Did you mean it?”

I stop struggling for a second, astounded by his stupidity. “Oh, my God! Is that what this is all about?!” I shout. “God forbid your ego be bruised. How fucking dare you? You have no idea what I’ve been through.” I struggle again with all my might, trying to break free. “You know what? This conversation is over. In fact…newsflash, Travis: we are over, so stop trying to rescue me.” I use my chest to push hard against his, willing the force of my adrenaline-fueled anger to push him away, but my attempts are futile. Frustrated, I shove at him again as I yell, “Fuck you, Travis Jackson!”

“Stop it!” His voice roars in my ears. “You’re going to listen to what I have to say. Right now, you don’t have the ability to discern what it is you need.”

I arch an eyebrow; incredibly pissed off doesn’t even cover the tip of the iceberg. The man is too audacious. “Oh, and you do? Maybe you need to dole out a little more Blyss, and then suddenly I’ll see the light, right? Isn’t that how this works, oh great purveyor of Blyss,” I spew in his face. “I’m surprised you didn’t take me back to the facility so you could start over from scratch.”

That might have been the wrong thing to say, because if smoke could come out of his ears, I have a feeling it would. Having to confront this man’s rage, I can see where anyone in their right mind would be shaking in their shoes, except I’m not in my right mind, and I’m no longer intimidated by him. I don’t even flinch when he lets go of me to pound his fists into the steel door, missing my head by inches.

My eyes narrow with venomous temper, daring him with my eyes to strike me. My voice turns low and deep, “You don’t scare me. You want to hit me, big man? Huh? Take your best shot, motherfucker.” I shove at his chest, egging him on. “You think you can force your bullshit on me, thinking you can mold my mind to your will. Well, if you think you can manipulate me by distorting my reality again with drugs and your useless charm, you’ve got another thing coming, you asshole.”

His breathing escalates to the point I think he’s going to blow, but I don’t care. “I’m not the same person anymore, Travis. If you could see into my soul, you’d run the other way. It’s ugly, very fucking ugly. The damage has been done, and there is no coming back from that.” The backs of my eyes begin to sting. I feel tears beginning to form, but I force them back down. “I had plans, damn you! I had plans of vengeance, and you stripped me of it.”

He leans in until we’re nose-to-nose as he speaks in a low, ominous tone, “You think you’re the only one in this life who’s suffered, or had bad shit happen to them? It’s the devil’s world, baby. Bad things happen to good people. Living for revenge will destroy your soul. Trust me; I know it firsthand. It will eat you alive, and then when you finally do get to deliver retribution, guess what? You’re still left feeling the same miserable emotions on the inside. You’re still consumed with immense hate, anger, and bitterness. It’s a downward spiral, and it makes you miserable for the rest of your life. You have to push that negative shit behind you and move on. You can age ungracefully, or you can fight, and the Jules I know isn’t a quitter.”

“I’m not your little soldier, you arrogant pig. You don’t have the right to talk to me about bad shit. When your world gets shattered to hell like mine, then maybe we can talk,” I spit back. “You don’t know shit.”

Immediately, I’m airborne and thrown over his shoulder. I scream out in both surprise and resentment. “Let me go!” I pound my fists into his back with all my might.

“My world has been shattered more times than I care to count. So looks like you owe me that talk.”

Upside-down, my heart pounds in my throat, wondering what he’s going to do with me. When we reach the bedroom, he unceremoniously tosses me onto the bed. Before my body has a chance to spring back from the mattress, his body weight lands on top of mine, pinning me down. He grabs my wrists again, and holds my arms out to the sides while he straddles my hips. I struggle in his hold, vexed that he’s so much stronger than me.

“I am so sick of you manhandling me, trapping me, drugging me, lying to me, and kidnapping me!” I yell, thrashing my body left and right. “Damn you!” I can’t break free, so I do the next best thing I know. I give up the fight and let my muscles go slack. I mentally shut myself down, allowing my eyes to glaze over, displaying a blank and empty Jules.

“Oh no you don’t, missy,” he barks out. “I know this game. You’re not going to shut down. You’re going to hear me out.”

Since I’m no longer fighting him, he lets go of my wrists and cradles my face in his hands, searing my soul with those stark eyes of his. “You can hate me, Julianna. I can accept that. Hell, I even deserve that, but what I can’t accept is you checking out on life.”

“I have no life, so there’s nothing to check out of,” I respond with an emotionless voice. “My heart and soul are already gone. It’s black.”

“The hell it is. Your life is just beginning.” His eyes flick over mine as he leans in close. “I’m not the enemy here, sweetheart, and you’re not my captive. If you want to leave, you can leave, but only after I know your head is on straight.”

“Good to know,” I deadpan.

He lets out an exasperated sigh. “Look, the guys and I are independent contractors. We work undercover for whatever job we’re needed for. We’ve worked in all realms and situations, but it’s always been my life mission to bring down as many slave trade markets as possible.”

I scoff, deriding him. “Some life mission. Having all those horny women to choose from… gee, I’m sure it was tough work.”

“Don’t even go there,” he warns, his voice turning to stone. “It fucking gutted me to go into work every day and see that shit going down. You are the only one I had ever let touch me the way you did,” he grits out between clenched teeth. “I would go to work every damn day reliving the nightmares of my own, and baby, let me tell you, I’ve had my fair share of them.”

“Do you even realize what you're saying, Travis? You were still a part of that game. You helped steal innocent women, drugged them, and did sadistic and vile things to them. You’re just as sick and twisted as the rest of them. You didn't prevent the horror of what those women had to go through; you enabled it.”

“What you fail to understand is that their days were numbered with or without me, just like yours were. They were going to be captured whether I was part of it or not, and if that was the case, the least I could do was try to bring the bastards down. My goal was to integrate myself into the business and do just that. Trust me, sweetheart; I think every one of those men should be castrated with an ax on a chopping block for abusing women like that.”

I’m temporarily stupefied. He’s got my full attention now, and he’s taking full advantage of it. “So, yes, Juliana, I was very much a part of that debauchery, and damn proud of it. Even though I couldn't help all of the women, I felt like the few I could help, I served justice.” His eyes drift off for a second, as if he’s reliving a some torment. “It's horrifying some of the shit I’ve seen over the years.” Then his eyes narrow on mine, his voice low and full of derision. “Compared to those women, you were living in the Taj fucking Mahal. What you had was a fairytale, Princess.”

“Yes, it was one big party, Travis, especially when you kept drugging me with Blyss after you took me from the facility,” I hiss. “Why was that? Did you need to ensure that you’d get some?”

“That’s a low blow, Jules,” he spews, grating out his words between clenched teeth. “I was nothing short of a gentleman, and you know it. Yes, I did drug you, and don't think for a second I wasn't at war with myself over it. Jared had told me you had quit taking Blyss, but I didn't know for how long. Shit, Jules, cut me a break.” His jaw muscles flex under the tension, and his voice turns cold. “The way I stormed into the facility to rescue you, I didn't really have the time to have a coffee and consult with Jared now, did I? Of course, you wouldn’t know I had Grant incrementally reduce your dosage so we could get you off that shit in the safest way possible.” He pauses to catch his breath, closing his eyes briefly, and then softens his tone, “I thought it was better to be safe than sorry. Whether it was right or wrong, I don't know. I only did what I thought was best for you.”

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