Blyssfully Undone: The Blyss Trilogy - book 3 (25 page)

“Holy fuck,” Nick whispers in disbelief beside my ear.

“So, you see, I was in a bit of a quandary, but Nick here came along at the right time and I found the perfect solution. Nick said this drug, Blyss, which I’ve invested in, would be the drug of the century. He went on to explain about his high-end operation, and how not only being a captive, but also a subservient one, would have these women obeying their master’s every command. So I’m sure you could see I found the perfect solution to my dilemma.”

All I can do is shake my head in dazed shock and utter, “No.”

My dad stops his pacing to smile at me. “You’ll soon realize this is a win-win for all of us. I could’ve done something far worse to you,” he says, giving a quick jerk of his chin toward Nick behind me, “but I’d say he’s a pretty fine catch. Wouldn’t you?”

“What the fuck is going on here?” a deep voice bellows from behind.
It’s Jake.
All of us turn to see Jake, whose nostrils are flaring. He stalks into the room, his biceps stretching the confines of his dress shirt as his hands clench into tight fists, ready to strike at any moment. I tug to break away from Nick, but he’s not letting me go.

“Jake, help me,” I cry out, “please…”

Nick holds me tighter as Jake heatedly flicks his eyes between both my dad and Nick, assessing and digesting the scene. It’s then I notice Jake stalking in with a limp, and my heart squeezes. He took a bullet trying to protect me. My dad holds out his hand in a halting motion, as if that’s going to keep Jake from advancing, limp or not. “Stop right there, Jake. This doesn’t concern you.”

Jake stops within a couple feet of all of us, his upper lip twitching with intense hostility. “The fuck it’s not my business. Julianna has always been my business. You said your delusional shit was under control. What’d you do, Lance, pay off your fucking psychologist, or did you learn to get batshit-crazy within your delusions?!” Jake bellows.

A pained whimper escapes me, and my chest constricts. I can barely breathe the words, “You...you knew?”

Jakes shifts his gaze to mine and shakes his head, remotely softening his eyes. “I didn’t know this, Jules, I promise. I only knew of his paranoid schizophrenia. His parents hired me when you were just a little thing to watch over you, and to keep tabs on Lance.” He turns, eyeing my father up and down with passionate enmity. “He had to go through a series of medical treatments a good while back. It was one of the reasons why I had to send you away to boarding school while he was going through therapy. It was for your own protection.”

“That’s enough!” my dad barks.

“What’s the matter, Lance? You worried your daughter will think less of you for having a severe mental disease?” His voice drips with a loathsome rage. “Afraid you would appear less of a father if she knew? Well, I think you’ve just topped yourself.” He takes a step closer to my dad, pointing a finger in his face. “You fucking promised you’d tell me if you got those feelings again, and it’s been what? Almost six years since your last episode?” He shakes his head in disdain, acute revulsion radiating off his entire body. “All this time, I thought you had your shit under control. Turns out you were only lying dormant as you had this shit planned out for years. No wonder you’ve been acting so normal all this time; you thought you had the ace in the hole.”

“Correction, I hold the ace,” Nick arrogantly chimes in.

Jake whips around to face Nick with bared teeth.

“And you…you sick motherfucker,” he grits out with narrowed eyes filled with rage, “you can let her the fuck loose, right the fuck now. There is no fucking deal.”

Nick’s body stays eerily relaxed behind me, and then he chuckles. I can see through my peripheral vision him giving a quick jerk of his head toward the door as both Jake and I take a look. I swallow against a thick lump in my throat as a sick sense of déjà vu washes over me. Those are the men who took me the last time, and the three of them are heavily armed.

“I don’t think you want a repeat of last time, Jake,” Nick reminds him with an authoritarian voice. “How’s that leg healing?” he taunts.

Jake’s chest heaves with fury. “This isn’t over, not by a long shot.”

“Oh, but it is,” Nick smoothly states. “Everything has been signed, sealed, and delivered. No returns, no exchanges, all sales final. I suggest you think of that, should you try something stupid.”

So this is it? My life has been bargained away because of a deeply disturbed, paranoid, schizophrenic man? Everyone’s words are becoming muffled, and I can’t make out anything past the fact that somehow under the influence, I did indeed sign important papers.

I feel like I’m in a jousting tournament and I just lost. I lost big time. My lungs constrict as I feel the sharp lance piercing my chest, spearing through my heart as it exits out my backside. A very sick feeling falls over me, making my face turn hot and flushed. I feel clammy and dizzy as I grab onto my medallion, clutching it with the palm of my hand, grasping for something familiar to give me comfort.

“That’s another thing I’ll be glad to be rid of,” my dad says as he steps forward to unclasp the necklace from around my neck. Both Jake and I just stand here frozen, unable to do anything as I try to get a grip on my physical and mental being, but nothing is cooperating.

He tosses my medallion in the air and catches it with an evil smirk. “Do you know how sick I was of seeing you wear this every damn day? I’ll be glad to be rid of it once and for all. It was a constant reminder of how traitorous both your grandmother and mother were…and now you.”

His words and actions paralyze me. Beads of sweat have gathered along my upper lip. I feel nauseous, and my vision sort of pixelates from the edges. My inner balance is so screwed up that all I can think about is how I’m going to fall flat on my face. The last thing I remember as my knees give way is not hitting the floor.

I slowly rouse from a deep sleep, still too tired to open my eyes. I realize my head is lying on a hard, muscled thigh acting as a pillow. Must be Travis’ lap I’m lying across. My mind is hazy from sleep, but I can’t remember the dream. The sound of a highway surrounds me, and I know then I’m in a moving vehicle.

I smell leather, a lot of leather, and I wonder what Travis is up to. I’m sprawled out on a very comfortable, roomy backseat of a car with the warmth of a blanket laid over top of me. My hair is being played with, and on occasion, softly stroked in a loving manner. I start to wriggle awake, and am met with a deep, soft voice that doesn’t belong to Travis.

“You’re awake.” My eyes flutter open, confusion swirling around me. My pulse spikes, and I try to sit up. I’m in a panic-induced haze as memories begin to pound me like a tidal wave. Nick gently nudges my head back down on his lap, encouraging me to stay put. “Easy there, Princess,” he says soothingly. “You’ve been out for a good while. Just relax.”

I roll my head back slightly to peer up at him, and he looks down at me with tender, sympathetic eyes, which display nothing but warmth. His fingers are caringly stroking the side of my cheek, and as I look at him in my disoriented state, I notice how exhausted he looks.

“Where am I?”

“I’m taking you home with me,” he softly replies as he runs his fingers through my hair.

I swallow hard against the sick feeling brewing in my stomach. “Back to the facility?”

His lips form a thin line as he shakes his head. “No, baby. I’m taking you to a place where we both can call home.”

“Home?” I ask even more confused. I have no home. I have no life. I have nothing.

Nick reaches over me for a second, and when he leans back against his seat, he has a bottle of water in his hand. “You need to stay hydrated,” he says, ignoring my question. “Let me help you sit up.” Apparently, his definition of me sitting up is sitting in his lap, because when I begin to move, his free hand slips underneath my armpit as he lifts me onto his lap.

I’m not ready to be face-to-face with Nick, so I rest my cheek against his shoulder and stare at the blanket draped over me. I feel the muscles in his chest move as he unscrews the lid on the water bottle.

Bringing the opening rim of the bottle to my lips, he tilts it, forcing me to take a sip. “C’mon, sweetheart. Take some tiny sips for me.” I have no choice but to comply. When he pulls the bottle away, he kisses the top of my head, and I hear him inhale my scent. “I’ve missed you so much,” he whispers forlornly. “I’ve been worried sick about you.”

“I’m fine,” I quietly assure him. He leans forward to put the water in a cup holder to free his hand, and then he runs his fingers through the back of my hair, massaging my neck as he holds me tightly.

“I wasn’t fine. I was miserable without you. I’m just glad you’re in one piece.” He pauses to kiss the top of my head again before he continues, “I don’t want you anywhere near the facility, or any place other than home, for that matter. I just want it to be you and me, with no outside interferences as we build our relationship.”

I have nothing to say to his remark. I think my heart turned to ashes the moment I found out my dad was a murderous psycho. I’m fairly certain I’m still in shock. I’m beginning to recognize the symptoms of shock now, and unfortunately, I’m learning to roll with it.

Nick continues, his baritone voice mingling with the sound of the tires on the road. “You will love it there, I promise,” he assures me. “You will have anything and everything you could ever want or need, including all the love you could ever hope to have in a lifetime.”

I’m hollow inside as his words bounce around the now empty chambers of my heart. He lifts my chin to meet his gaze, his eyes gleaming a pretty sable as he searches my face. “You believe me, don’t you?”

“I do,” I whisper in response. His eyes narrow on mine as he works something out in his head.

“You belong to me, Julianna. We belong together…you know that, right?”

I’m exhausted, and honestly, I don’t know what the hell he wants from me, other than a fairytale ending. “Yes,” I whisper in defeat, my somber face acknowledging him.

He scrutinizes my lack of excitement for being his captive, yet again. “You don’t seem like you want this, Julianna.”

Oh, my God. He can’t be for real right now. What the hell does he expect me to say at a time like this?
Yes, thank you for making a deal with the devil and rescuing me from the fiery pits of one hell, just to go into another
?

His emotions flip in the blink of an eye, and the growing annoyance radiates off him from my lack of response. “Do you miss him, Julianna?” he asks through gritted teeth in a contemptuously low tone. He doesn’t give me time to process his question before his voice turns into untamed, turbulent outrage. “Did you enjoy fucking him?”

What the fuck? I jolt backward as if I’ve been bitch-slapped in the face. He painfully grips my cheeks, his upper lip twitching as he grates out, “I asked…did you enjoy
fucking
him?” he repeats.

My heart takes off like a jackhammer gone crazy. How the hell do I even begin to answer a question like that? And I’m fairly certain he knows the answer. Is he looking for another reason to be angry with me so he can whip me on his cross again? When I don’t respond fast enough, he barks loudly, “Well, did you?” I flinch, my eyes wide with shock and dismay.

His eyes have gone wild, and I’m frightened of his volatile and unpredictable mood swing. He nods as if he’s figured out the answer for himself. “I thought so,” he sneers, disdain dripping like thick syrup from his voice.

He roughly releases my cheeks, and I don’t know how to handle him. With his anger barely contained, and knowing what he’s capable of when he’s pissed, especially where his jealousy of Travis is concerned, my brain scrambles to try and think of something to say to calm him down.

My hands start trembling with the memories of what happened the last time I purposely made him jealous. Survival mode kicks in as I hear myself blurt out, “It didn’t mean anything.”

He cups my right cheek, scrutinizing my every feature up close and personal as he looks for deception. Nick’s unspoken rage fills the silence in the limo with such thickness it makes it hard for me to breathe. His eyes tell me he wants so badly to believe me, so I put forth my best effort to quell his skepticism.

“He stole me, Nick. I didn’t have a choice. I was deliriously drugged by the time he got to me, and I was in such pain when he abducted me I couldn’t fight back, even if I wanted to,” I reason.

His eyes quickly flash with remorse. The muscles in his jaw visibly clench, and I hope he’s internally berating himself for whipping the shit out of me. Then he surprises me with what he says next, “I’m sorry. I lost sight of your punishment. I didn’t mean to take it that far.”

Tentatively, I cup his face, feeling a week’s worth of scruff bristling against the palm of my hand as I look into his eyes. “I forgive you, Nick,” I shakily whisper. “It wasn’t right what I said to you that night. I’m sorry too,” I softly confess, showing true remorse in my eyes.

“What happened when he took you? I need to know.”

I carefully explain to him everything, from the car accident to the memory loss that followed. I recapped the last few weeks for him, all the way up until the invasion happened. I don’t want to discuss the atrocities of me having to kill anyone, and I hope I never have to talk about it. I want to erase it, forget it ever happened.