Blyssfully Undone: The Blyss Trilogy - book 3 (2 page)

I watch as the muscles in Travis’ jaw flex, and he grits out his reply between clenched teeth, “Understood.”

“Very good. I hope you’ve enjoyed your little fuck-fest, because your honeymoon is over,” the man says in a threatening tone, and then his voice changes from hostile to a deliberately mocking tone. “You’ve gotten sentimental in your old age, Jackson. Your love-speech just made me go all gooey inside.”

Travis’ green eyes morph before me, turning cold and hard as he narrows them in anger. I know he wishes he had an even playing field, because with the death glare Travis is emanating right now, I have no doubt the man wouldn’t last five seconds.

“Now, Travis, listen closely…as I wouldn’t want any unfortunate accidents to happen. I also don’t think the young lady would appreciate getting soiled from any of your splattered blood getting on her, all because you decided to make a wrong move thinking you can take me. You understand that?”

“I got it,” Travis gruffly states, and then he lightly squeezes my wrists, and I don’t think it means anything other than an
I care about you, and I hope we get through this alive
type of squeeze.

“Good, I want your hands up in the air. Then, I want you to slowly slink off the bed nice and easy. If you so much as move a micrometer in the wrong direction, you know what happens.” Travis tenses and reiterates his signals to me again by flicking his eyes to the concealed gun in my hand. My heart hammers hard against the walls of my chest as I try to control tremors that are beginning to develop in my extremities.

Travis slowly removes his grip from my wrists, and at a snail’s pace, he leans back, placing both his hands up in the air. His weight slowly begins to lift off my body while he keeps his hands held high, indicating he’s unarmed. His steely gaze continues to penetrate through mine the entire time as he slowly stands to his full height. He looks so vulnerable at this moment, something I’m not used to seeing from this dominating, strong-willed, and always in control kind of man.

“Young lady, the same rules apply to you,” the man threatens, his voice unsettling me. I look at him out of the corner of my eye, petrified to even breathe. “My orders are to take you alive, ma’am, but accidents can happen, can’t they?”

Holy shit.
The reality of the situation slams into my chest, the very fear stealing air from my lungs. What Travis has been trying to instill in me all along is now ringing true. I will have to kill in order for us both to survive. I imagine this man didn’t come alone either. They would have to be more than stupid to believe only one person would be enough to capture Travis. I wonder where the other men are and if they’re surrounding the house.

The intruder slices through the thick tension in the room, breaking into my distraught thoughts as he speaks to Travis with pure menace lining his deep voice. “Keep your hands in the air.” His gruff voice twists in my gut, and my adrenaline spikes.
My God,
I don’t want Travis to die.

I know Nick will have him at the guillotine the second he’s captured, but only after he makes him suffer first; I’m sure of it. It seems as if all Travis has ever tried to do is keep me out of harm’s way since the very beginning. He’s risked his own life to get me out from under Nick, and now he’s paying the price. I may be out-of-my-mind angry with Travis right now, but he doesn’t deserve to die.

I slowly turn my head to the side just in time to witness the man roughly grab Travis by one wrist. He twists it, bringing it around Travis’ back to put him in an arm lock. This man is big and burly, full of muscle, but he’s not as big as Travis. Travis holds the look of Black Death in his eyes. It's a look of his promised wrath I've never seen before, but always imagined it could exist on his handsome face.

The aura his entire body is exuding right now screams
warrior
, promising his rival a wicked, painful death if given the opportunity to gain the upper hand, and I imagine he would’ve already taken this guy if he didn’t have me to consider.

I watch as the man begins to place a handcuff on Travis’ wrist, and something twists in my gut. Anger begins to brew and bubble in the pit of my stomach. This asshole has no right, nor does Nick have the right to lay claim to my life, my future, or anyone else’s for that matter. Sporadic emotions of vengeance, hate, and fear play in my head, unleashing a fury I’ve never felt before. I can literally feel the venom seeping out of my pores.

Travis shoots me a glare out of the corner of his eye, which says I’m letting our time to take action tick away. The intensity of his eyes consume me as they blaze for me to pull out of my shock and make a move.

Travis asks over his shoulder while keeping his scrutinizing gaze on mine, “How did you find us?”

“Now that’s the million-dollar question right there, isn’t it, Travis?” the man sardonically replies. “I imagine you would like to know that bit of intel, wouldn’t you?”

I steal a deep breath while they banter. I know I will have the element of surprise, because who would think in a million years a young female would be wielding a gun from underneath a pillow.
It’s now or never, Jules.

My fingers wrap around the gun’s grip a little tighter, thankful for Travis’ foresight in preparing me for this very moment. Knowing the safety is already off, it’s one less thing I have to think about.

Travis’ voice echoes through me as I’ve practiced this very routine ad nauseam.
You shoot to kill the enemy, Jules, not maim them, or they’ll come back for you.

As adrenaline rushes through my blood vessels, all I can hear is my heartbeat pounding in my ears, but I refuse to allow my body to freeze in fear and let Travis down. I quit thinking about what I have to do and just do it. Push comes to shove, and I quit rationalizing with my thoughts as my instincts take over. My reflexes intuitively respond without another conscious thought.

I draw the gun out from underneath the pillow at warp speed, and a bizarre feeling washes over me as everything seems to move in slow motion. I watch, feeling detached in an out-of-body experience as my left hand meets the other to help stabilize the gun.

I cock my head to the side as my right eye lines up with the sight on the Sig. I don’t fuck around. I aim for the man’s head, and before I know it, three successive shots have rung out, shooting off rounds just the way Travis taught me.

I don’t even remember feeling the recoil from the handgun as it fired, nor do I hear the shots ring out, but my ears sure as hell are ringing in a high-pitched sound in the aftermath. Feeling detached from myself, as if this isn’t really happening, I watch as this man who once had a living, breathing heart collapses lifelessly to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

Oh. My. God.
I’ve just shot and killed another human being. All of my limbs lock up as I freeze with shock and disbelief. I’m paralyzed, and I sure as hell don’t want to peer over the mattress to see the final outcome.

My brows furrow in confusion as Travis is suddenly in my face, his lips are moving, but I can’t hear what he’s saying. He grabs my shoulders and starts to roughly shake me. I begin to hear his voice as it breaks through in segments. He sounds muffled, as if he’s talking underwater.

“Now is…time to zone out. We’ve got…out of here,” he yells in dire urgency, but I can’t comprehend his fragmented words.

Travis roughly shakes me like a rag doll when I don’t respond, repeating, “Jules! Snap out of it! You know the drill; we’ve practiced this. We’ve got to move!” I feel paralyzed, the shock and fear locking up all my limbs, rendering me useless.

His eyes become plagued with worry. “Jules, baby. Please, snap out of this,” he pleads in an urgent tone. “Our lives depend on it. Don’t check out on me now.”

I blink my eyes hard several times, trying to come out of my stupor. His fingers work to pry my hand off the gun. When I realize what he’s doing, I relax my grip, letting him have it. He then places the gun behind his back, tucking it inside the waistband of his jeans, I’m sure. I’ve watched him place his weapons there a million times before.

I know I have to force myself to move; however, it’s not fast enough for Travis. He takes control of the situation, breaking the spell for me as he grabs me underneath my armpits, lifting me off the bed. He makes me feel as if I weigh ten pounds the way he handles me. I feel numb to the core, an emotionless robot as he holds me steady, with my legs trembling. I hope he doesn’t decide to let go of me anytime too soon, or I’m going to collapse to the floor.

“Breathe for me, baby.” He slowly inhales a deep breath with me, and we hold our breath together, just the way he taught me. Then we both gradually exhale, holding our lungs empty for a few heartbeats before we repeat the cycle.

“Now, you remember our buzzwords?” he asks, and I nod in response. “Say it aloud for me,” he commands.

I breathe through a cycle of air one more time before I recite the mantra he made me learn. I thought it was stupid at the time, but right now, I cling to it like a lifeline as I whisper, “Stay outwardly focused, no introspection, keep calm, and carry on.”

“Very good, sweetheart. I want you to keep repeating that in your head. Focus on those words, what they mean, and keep breathing while you get yourself together, okay?”

I grab on to his t-shirt, fisting the front of the fabric in my hands, double checking he’s truly alive and standing right here before me.
I almost lost him.
I lean my forehead into the middle of his steel chest and close my eyes; I just want to cry. My hands begin to shake, and my breath hitches as a tear slips out of the corner of my eye.

“Ssh,” he whispers as he cradles my cheeks in the palms of his hands, lifting my chin to meet his gaze. “Keep it together for me. Just for a little bit longer, and I promise we’ll get out of this alive.”

My breath hitches again, my throat is tight, and I can’t speak. “Sweetheart,” he says almost apologetically, “I have to scope out the rest of the house, and you’ve got thirty seconds to get dressed, grab my backpack from the closet, and be ready to move out.” His eyes plead with mine to not let him down.

I nod in acknowledgment, and then Travis slowly releases me, making sure I can stand on my own two feet first. When I slightly sway, he cocks his head to the side and eyes me warily. I can’t let him down. We need to get out of here, and I sure as hell don’t want to pull the trigger on a gun again.

I don’t recognize my own voice, because I sound all throaty when I assure him, “I got it. I can do this.”

“That’s my girl.” His eyes soften as his lips curve up in an approving expression, like he’s proud of me. He reaches behind me, grabs his cell phone from the nightstand, and begins to type into it.

“What are you doing?”

“Putting systems in place,” he answers, never looking up from the phone’s screen. When he’s done, he places the phone in his back pocket, and then looks at me. “All right, thirty seconds, Jules.” He arches one brow, sternly reminding me. He quietly walks to the doorway with his gun drawn, and I watch as his backside disappears out the bedroom door to begin scoping out the rest of the house for danger.

I find myself still frozen in place, breathing silently through my nose and becoming more alert now that I’m alone as I listen for signs of danger. A chill runs through me with the knowledge I’m all by myself now. What if something happens to Travis while he’s checking out our surroundings?

A few seconds of quiet go by. I suddenly realize I’m wasting valuable time. I close my eyes tightly and shake my head, taking in a deep breath, and using the technique Travis taught me to help me stay calm.
Focus, Jules.

I force myself to move on shaky limbs to the dresser, thankful the dead body lying on the floor is on the other side of the room. I notice my hands are trembling as I open a drawer and pull out the first pair of jeans I see. Everything seems to take twice as long to complete a task as I rummage through a couple more drawers, methodically pulling out a pair of socks and a folded t-shirt.

I get dressed as quickly as possible, and then hunt for one of my elastics to put my hair in a ponytail. I steal a deep breath and continue to repeat the mantra in my head over and over before I have to turn around and get to the sliding closet doors.

Slowly and quietly, I walk toward the closet on the other side of the room while making a wide berth around the dead body. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the man lying on the floor, sprawled out with a red pool of blood beside his head. Blood thunders through my veins while a massive shiver rolls through my body. I squeeze my eyes shut against the horrifying sight.

Keep it together, Jules. Travis will get us out of this; he has to.
Reflexively, the palm of my hand slams against my mouth to cover it as I let out a gag.
Oh, shit, no.
I don’t have time to vomit. I feel myself break out in a cold sweat and try desperately to use the breathing pattern I’m supposed to use to calm my nerves. To keep myself from tossing my cookies, I begin to quietly hum our buzzwords aloud, trying to stay on task as I slide open the closet doors.

I sink to my knees, feeling like I’ve crossed the finish line of a marathon and reaching the closet was the prize. I lean forward and reach out into the depths of the closet, pulling out the backpack in which Travis had prepared for us with incredible foresight.

Once I pull the pack out and place it beside me, I sift through the shoes at the bottom of the closet until I find my pair of tennis shoes. Keeping my back turned away from the scene behind me, I sit back on my bottom and put on my socks and shoes.

Travis knew they were coming, and I have no idea why he wanted to rescue me, all the while knowing he’d be wrapped up in a massive quagmire of shit as a result. All I know is I don’t want to go back to that prison cell and be trapped with Nick. God only knows what he would do to me now if I were in his dungeon.

I catch a faint whiff of dispersed gunpowder as I sit here waiting for Travis to return. I keep my gaze forward, refusing to turn around while desperately trying to ignore the smell. I look down at my hands to find them still shaking and notice the engagement ring Travis had placed there mere minutes ago. The brand new diamond shimmers and sparkles, even with my back turned away from the light source. What was he thinking proposing to me?
I promise you, I was exposing the real me. I gave you all of me. I held nothing back.