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

“Jules.” I flinch and lose my breath, startled from the sound breaking through the deep silence of the room. It’s Travis. I slump my taut shoulders, thankful he didn’t run into more trouble within the house, or at least that I know of. I turn my head around to find him standing in the doorway with his gun drawn.

My jaw drops at the sight of him. How the hell he managed to scope the house and get fully clothed in camo gear, I’ll never know. I bet he could give a fireman a run for his money, getting dressed in full gear.

I don’t recognize this Travis. Gone is the soft, passionate man I got to know, and in his place stands a real warrior. He looks so dark and ominous; everything about him screams confident, professional, hardcore killer, and it rolls off him like a massive tsunami. His jaw is set, his eyes are hard, and his every movement calculated. He looks totally in his element as he emits a silent, comfortable sureness, appearing to be in control of all the uncertainties and danger that surrounds us.

His military-style boots quietly echo against the hardwood floor as he quickly makes his way to me. His eyes stay locked on mine while he secures his gun and then holds out his hand to me. I look up from the floor, flicking my eyes back and forth from his hand to his eyes. He stands like a mountain above me. I slowly reach up and take it, and immediately, he pulls me up off the floor. I notice he's holding a vest in his other hand. He lets go of me and begins to slip the vest on my body over my t-shirt. My lungs squeeze with asthmatic pain, the vest reminding me of the perilous danger, and what is about to head our way.

“Travis, I’m scared,” I whisper on a shaky breath.

“We’re going to be fine, Jules,” he confidently assures me. “Stick to me like glue, and we will get out of this alive.”

“Where are we going?”

“To the bunker. You know the way blindfolded,” he says, and his tone is all business. “You also know the code to gain access, should something happen to me.”

I shake my head. “No, I’m not leaving you.” A shooting pain stabs at my heart, knowing something could very well happen to him.

“We don’t have time to argue, but you will do as I say.” His tone is hard and cold, and brooks no argument. Yes, this Travis definitely scares me, and I’m glad to be on his side. His eyes narrow as he holds up his index finger in front of my face. “Discussion is over.” I swallow hard as I stare into his impenetrable eyes.

He then leans down and grabs his backpack from the floor, quickly putting it on. He secures the nylon strap in the front with a plastic snap lock. Then he looks to me while taking my hand, giving it a light squeeze. “You did good. I’m proud of you,” he says in all seriousness, and then takes a step backward, pulling me along with him. “Come on, we gotta roll out now.”

He’s on high alert as we make our way through the cabin, and when we reach the back door, he pulls us both to the side of the window to keep us out of sight. While focusing his gaze on our surroundings, he looks through the edge of the window as he talks. “You remember what to do if we get separated, right? If I go down, you’ll have to go on without me.”

“Travis, I’m so scared.”

“I know, baby. C’mere.” He steps back from the window and pulls me into his arms. “You can do this. We both will make it,” he says with confidence. My God, how is this man always able to hold himself together? I’m astounded at the amount of inner strength and fortitude he carries. He looks so indestructible.

He leans down and captures my lips, and I pray it won’t be our last as I kiss him back. His lips are like a balm to my soul. I breathe in his familiar musky scent and savor it. He makes me feel so protected as he looks so invincible. The kiss is over quickly, and then he pulls away to place a pistol in my hand.

“You cannot allow yourself to get caught. They want you alive, but they want me dead.” I shake my head in denial, and before I can say a word, Travis places two forefingers over my lips, preventing me. “If for some reason I go down, you’re going to have to go on without me,” he repeats. “Don’t stop until you’re safe.” My eyes begin to water, and I feel shaky all over again. “Promise me that you will.”

“I promise.”
I will never leave you behind.
He seems satisfied with the half-sentence I spoke aloud, and curtly nods.

“Remember, we’re going to duck and weave together, and whatever you do, don’t let go of my hand, all right?”

I take a deep breath, filling my lungs to capacity, and hold the air in for a minute, psyching myself up for the unknown dangers that lay ahead. I can’t help but think the moment we step out from the walls of this cabin,
we may be leaving together, but it feels like a farewell
. I don’t think things will ever be the same between us again. I’m sure of it.

My stomach plummets, and I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. I lose my breath over the sensation and grab my stomach, wanting to double over and heave.

“Uh-huh, baby. You can tamp that shit back down right now,” Travis commands in a militant voice. He grabs my hand from my belly and squeezes it to the point of pain as he pierces me with a no-bullshit glare. I’ve never seen a man look so battle-ready before, but if this is the look, he is wearing it in spades.

He’s able to turn the doorknob with the pistol still gripped in his hand. His eyes then scan the perimeter of the outside as his jaw muscles flex. “On the count of three, be ready to bolt.” He never counts to three. He immediately gives my hand a hard tug, pulling both of us out into the bright sunlight. We both burst into a full-on sprint, and I know without a doubt we could run faster if he would just let go of my hand, but apparently, he’s not going to take any chances of me slipping through his fingers. Everything becomes a blur around me, and all I can do is focus on moving my legs as fast as humanly possible.

I hear the first shot ring out as it makes a whizzing sound, slicing between Travis and me. He yanks me hard into his side, forcing me to move with him. I almost lose my balance, stumble, and fall. My heart is pumping out a ridiculous amount of adrenaline, and I feel nothing but terror.

“Weave, baby,” Travis yells.

Shit, I am weaving!
I want to scream, but each breath is consumed with the task at hand. With every leap forward I take, my feet fumble over the uneven ground. Even though we’ve practiced this a million times, I feel clumsy.

Suddenly, Travis’ hard body pushes back into mine, forcing me to the left as he yells out again, “Keep the pattern! Focus!” Somehow, I gain my bearings, and all the training finally kicks. We continue to move in a zig-zag pattern over the open stretch of ground until we reach the edge of the forest.

The morning sun coming up over the forest is almost blinding as we reach the edge of trees. I grit my teeth as my left arm snags and scrapes over a thicket of thorny vines. I feel hundreds of tiny needles digging into me, tugging at my arm as if they want to hold me back. I let out a loud grunt, but I don’t have time to look or think about how much skin I left behind on those vines.

I almost feel relieved when we enter the thickness of the wooded trail, thankful to have some cover. Hopefully, we’ll make it to the bunker unscathed.

His death grip on my hand keeps my momentum moving forward at an ungodly pace. He doesn’t even grunt when his big body rips through a set of vines. He’s like a human machete, and it’s all I can do to keep my feet landing on solid ground as he pulls me along. There are so many dips and unforeseen potholes in which either one of us can slip and twist our ankles, but somehow we’re able to avoid them.

We’re about to the halfway point in reaching the bunker when I hear a loud thud, and then Travis begins to lose his balance. His feet begin to falter, and before I know it, he’s pulled me down to the ground with him. I grit my teeth together, expecting the impending fall to hurt like hell.

We both plummet to the ground, colliding against the forest floor as a loud
oomph
escapes from my lungs, stealing the last bit of air I had. The only good thing about the impact is it’s layered with dead foliage to help break our fall.

I’m not sure what’s happened other than Travis could have possibly tripped, but from the looks of how he went down, he didn’t try to break his fall the way I did. He didn’t even utter a word as he hit the ground.
Oh, God, please don’t let him be shot
.

The pine straw pokes into my arms and the leaves rustle underneath my movements as I scramble up on my knees to hover over his body. I frantically begin checking for any wounds as I run my hands all over his upper body, but all I feel is his thick, heavy body armor. For a second, I think he got lucky, and exhale a breath of relief, but the relief quickly dissipates as I realize he’s not conscious.

“Travis!” I scream, pulling on his shoulders, trying to turn his heavy body over onto his back so I can assess him. I have tunnel vision as I can only seem to focus on one thing, and that’s seeing to Travis’ wellbeing. I grunt and pull back on his shoulders with all my might, but his body is all dead weight and he won’t budge. Not knowing what to do at this point, I start to panic.

An adrenaline boost must be rushing through me as I try in one last-ditch effort to roll him over, and succeed. Once I get him on his back, I cradle his cheeks with my palms and search for breaths of life. “Travis!” I scream again while tapping his cheeks, trying to rouse him.

A glistening sheen of perspiration across the top of his forehead glistens in the light, and I wipe it away with my hand. I don’t know what I think that will solve, but I’m so frazzled I don’t know what else to do. I lean down and kiss his damp forehead, choking back tears. I feel stupidly helpless as I softly begin pleading with a feeble, croaky voice, “Travis, please wake up. I don’t know what to do.” There is no way in hell I can leave his side. I know he’s told me to, but I just can’t leave him like this; it’s just…wrong. Anxiety grips me around the neck with a painful squeeze, and I close my eyes as the impending breakdown of tears takes over.

“Oh,
fuck
,” he wails out. Startled from the outburst, my hand covers my mouth and my eyes bolt open wide. A deep, guttural sound leaves his lungs as he makes a huge effort to catch his breath. His eyes look distressed and in pain. Waves of relief roll through me. He’s alive!

“It feels like someone punched the holy shit out of my back.” Lifting his head, he drops his chin to his chest, looking down to investigate himself. He feels with both his hands all over his upper body, looking for a bullet wound. “Shit, even though I’m not seeing it, I’m not sure there isn’t a gaping hole going through me.” His voice is so intertwined with pain that his agony then becomes mine. My stomach twists in a knot, as I feel so helpless for him.

When he wails out in a distressed groan again, the sound grips at my gut. It’s almost as if I can feel his pain, and I die a little on the inside. “Are you shot anywhere?” I ask as I run my fingers through his thick, tousled, and sweaty hair. He jerks his body away from mine, pulling is head away from my hands, looking startled to find me, of all people, kneeling beside him.

He shakes his head and blinks his eyes rapidly in a confused state, just now realizing I’m here. “Jules, are you okay?” he asks as he huffs and pants through his pain.

“I’m fine. Are you shot?” I worriedly ask again.

“No, but it sure as fuck feels like it. Thank God for bulletproof vests.” Then his eyes narrow on me as if he’s thinking about something. “Dammit!” he bellows, his angry voice taking me off guard. My eyes flinch, and I jolt backward. “What the hell are you still doing here then?” He flops his head back down in the pine straw in defeat, and then he squeezes his eyes shut while visibly fighting against the pain wracking his body. “You promised me,” he adds through gritted teeth.

My heart sinks at the sound of his disappointment in me, but I didn’t have it in me to leave his side. I couldn’t. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t leave you like this.” I watch as both his hands clench into fists, and then he makes painful grunts as he pulls himself up into a half-sitting position, coming to rest on his elbows. He looks rather pissed off at this point, but I don’t care. I ask him again, “Travis, can you get up?”

He shakes his head in anger and snarls at me, “Go now. Run to the bunker and don’t stop.”

“Not without you,” I argue back.

“
Sonofabitch
, you hard-headed…” his voice trails off, and I watch as his left hand reflexively brushes at the back of his neck at lightning speed as his head recoils off to the side. He acts as if he just got stung by a swarm of bees.

“Fuck!” he shouts out. I’m confused as to what’s going on until he brings his hand back around from his neck and it’s painted in blood. I gasp, horrified to see him bleeding. He doesn’t give me time to process what just happened, because in that very second, he slams his body over mine, protecting me from a spray of bullets, which whiz by overhead. His arms wrap tightly around my body as he traps me underneath his heavy weight, pinning my arms to my sides.

His lips rest against my ear, his breathing heavy as he tells me in a gruff voice, “I’m so going to have your ass when this is over.” I don’t know how he can be so confident in a time like this. I feel as if my ass has already been hung out to dry. I’ve already said my prayers.