Blyssfully Undone: The Blyss Trilogy - book 3 (22 page)

The further I run away from the house, the more guilty I feel for leaving Travis behind, but I know this is the right thing to do. None of this capturing and owning another human being shit is right. There's nothing honorable, ethical, or moral about it. It's wicked and it’s wrong.

So why does it feel like I'm losing a piece of my heart the further away I run? It's like my head knows what's right, but my heart wants me to turn around—being a human captive be damned.
Stupid, Jules, just stupid. You can sort out your feelings later.
I haven't seen my father and Jake in over a month, and right now, it feels like years.

As I am running away, it's odd I even notice there are fewer stars in the sky as opposed to the night sky at the cabin. Memories taunt me as I remember warm nights out on the front porch of the cabin. Travis and I would talk about the stars and how much brighter they were out in the country.
Why am I thinking of stars at a time like this?
All of it was a fairytale. A lie.

My legs start to give out and I stumble. I’m forced to slow down my stride and focus on my breathing. I’m growing tired, but I refuse to give up, so I force myself to push on as I half-stagger and half-jog. I let the thoughts of having my entire life ripped out from under me fuel my anger, which in turn feeds my energy to keep moving forward. I've lost so much of my future, the most important thing being Adam.

My vexation has me pumping my legs faster and harder. I feel beads of sweat beginning to trickle down the side of my face, and the cool early morning air feels good against my overheated skin. The only thing I can hear is the rhythmic pounding of my feet on the asphalt and my hard breathing. My lungs continue to constrict as they fight for air.

My mind is willing my body to go the distance, all the way to Atlanta, but my body has other ideas. Against my will, the muscles in my legs, combined with the lack of oxygen in my lungs, have my body coming to a screeching halt.
Dammit.
I can’t push myself any farther, and I bend over, grasping my knees with my hands as my chest heaves like a seventy-year-old chain-smoker. I turn around and glance back, and see nothing but a bright-lit moon against a clear, dark sky. I don’t know how far I’ve run, but it feels like a couple of miles at least. I look around and notice the sky is changing to a lighter gray. I haven’t seen one single car since being on these back roads at this hour, and to me, that’s a good thing.

Placing my hands on my hips at the small of my back I lean back and stretch out, taking another deep breath to fill my lungs. Then I start to walk out my fatigued and tired muscles.

I have to keep moving, especially if I’m going to make it. It feels as if another half-hour has gone by. I’ve resorted to power walking now, knowing it’s better than just walking, but not as tiring as running.

When the guys drove here, I knew we were out of the city limits, but my gosh, these roads are just going on forever.

Since I fell asleep on the way here, I have no idea if I’m headed in the right direction or not. All I know is I'm still on a two-lane country road, and hopefully making my way toward the city of Raleigh. I have no idea what I'm going to do when I get there either, other than try to find a way to phone home.

The quiet morning I’ve been used to hearing for the past hour is interrupted by the sound of what could only be a diesel truck. It’s coming from behind me, and I immediately tense up.

These are the moments I wish I had a gun to defend myself if I needed to. Unfortunately, the guys have them under lock and key, or they’re kept on their own body. There would be no way any one of them would let me have a firearm either.

I quickly turn around and see a large red Ford pick-up truck. It looks very used and abused, and at the sight of it, I slightly relax, knowing it’s not Travis. However, I swallow hard against the lump in my throat when the truck doesn’t drive by. It slows down, and then comes to a full stop a few feet away from me. I’m about to find my second wind and run, but before I do, I catch a glimpse of the driver. He’s a good-looking guy; I guess you could call him a redneck, but he’s a handsome-looking redneck.

He leans his head out the window, giving me a friendly smile, and I minutely relax.

“You lost, darlin’?” he calls out with a rich southern drawl.

I quickly shake my head. "I'm fine, thank you."

He eyes me up-and-down then pitches his head to the side, a lock of blond hair spilling over his forehead while he watches me warily.

“You don't look fine. In fact, I’m a little concerned for you. Don’t find many women walkin’ along a dark country road, ‘specially at 5:30 in the morning. Not unless you’re doin’ a serious walk of shame with nothing but the shirt on your back.”

I don’t know how to respond to that comment, but at least he's nice enough to say I don't look like a hooker. Even though it's 5:30 in the morning, and I’ve cooled off from my long run, the hot and humid air has started to seep into my skin, rendering me parched and fatigued.

“Why don't I give you a lift into town?” he offers. “Is that where you're headed?”

Shifting my feet, I don't answer. I’m wary as hell going anywhere with strangers. For obvious reasons. As if he could read my mind, he holds his hand out of the truck window with his palm facing me in a friendly gesture to show me he’s harmless. “I’m just a country boy showin’ a little southern hospitality. I just want to help a lady who looks to be in distress.” His southern accent, charm, and the twinkle in his eyes have him looking so sincere. Trying to ascertain his intentions, all I can come up with is he truly wants to be a Good Samaritan. I decide to take a chance. “C’mon, what do you say? It’s a long hike into Raleigh from here.”

“Okay,” I meekly reply, biting my lower lip with worry.

I’m tired, and it would be best if I get off the road and out of plain sight, especially with daylight breaking. I’m sure the guys will be freaking out the second they find me gone. I make my way to the passenger side of the truck and open the door. When I step up on the running board, I glance into the back seat and suppress a grin. This is definitely a man’s truck. It's filthy, full of trash, with old crumpled paper bags of fast food and empty water bottles strewn across the entire cab.

“Sorry about the mess. This is my work truck. If I'd known I was going to be picking up a pretty little lady this mornin’, I would've brought my brand new GMC Sierra Denali 2500, v8 engine with 420 horsepower and 460lb-ft of torque,” he says as if he is
Tim the Tool Man
, and then his lips twitch before he breaks out into a beautiful smile. His grin and silliness is infectious, and I giggle, returning his smile.

“Well, damsels in distress can't be choosy now, can they?”

His smile dissipates, and his expression grows serious as he looks at me out of the corner of his eye. “Are you…a damsel in distress?” I pause, hesitating to step fully into the truck. He must see the conflicting emotions running across my face, because he tries to reassure me.

“It's okay, sweetheart. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm happy to help. It's what real gentlemen do here in the south.” Oh, if he only knew what other gentlemen do here in the south, he wouldn't be saying that.

I take a moment to study him before climbing in. He has a strong build, and a very nice tan, as if he works under the sun, on a farm maybe. The color of his striking blond hair is one that even I’m jealous of. He can't be much older than me.

He pats the empty seat beside him, garnering my attention. “C’mon,” he encourages with a smile, “I don’t bite.” I go ahead and hoist myself up into the front seat and close the truck door.

Judging from his helpful and sweet personality, I could see where he wouldn’t have the first clue about what debauchery goes on in the business sector of the south. This handsome young man is what the real south was made of. I have to remind myself not everyone is out to hunt me down. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding as I let the tension out of my shoulders and relax.

He puts the truck back in gear, glances behind him, and then gets back on the road. We ride in silence for about a minute before he takes his eyes off the road for a quick second as he looks at me with concern.

“I don't know what you're going through, but whatever it is, you can trust me. I can get you the help you need.”

“What I really need is a phone,” I mumble, not expecting him to produce one.

“Well, why didn't you say so?” My eyes open wide with disbelief as he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out an iPhone. Judging from his attire and the condition of his truck, I wouldn't have thought he would own such an expensive phone. My face must be all-telling, because he lets out a hearty laugh. I pull my gaze away from the phone cradled in his hand and look at him with confusion.

His lip twitches with mirth as he speaks, “Don't let the looks fool you, sweetheart. I'm in construction, and I make damn good money. I don’t dress nice onsite, and by the end of the day, not only have I been rough on my truck, but
I’m
dirty.” His lips spread into a beautiful white smile with perfectly straight teeth, and two of the sexiest dimples appear in his cheeks. “I wasn't kidding when I said I have a nice truck. I’ve got a lot of other nice things too,” he says as he holds out his hand, offering me his cell.

I just bet he does have a lot of other nice things. I grin at his innocent comment and take the phone from his hand. I turn it over in my hands a few times, realization dawning that I haven’t had a communication device in over a month. It’s a precious piece of technology I’d always taken for granted. I don’t know what to think it feels so weird.

“Do you need some help turning it on?” he asks, breaking into my thoughts.

Still staring at the phone, I answer him, “I’ve never seen such a thin plastic protective case before is all.” Which is a lie.

“It’s one of the best covers money can buy. It’s waterproof too,” he explains.

“Mm,” is all I say as I press the button to turn on the phone, and then swipe across the screen to access the keypad. With shaky fingers, I type in the numbers nice and slow, trying not to dial the wrong number from over-excitement. The time on the phone says it's a little after 5:30 in the morning, and I'm positive my dad won't care if I wake him up at this hour. Knowing he keeps his cellphone by his side at all hours, I know it is right beside his bed. Heck, he even takes it into the bathroom with him when he showers in the morning. He's that busy.

The phone rings three times before he picks up, his voice groggy from sleep. “Hello?”

“Daddy?” I breathe in a relieved gasp as I close my eyes, thankful to hear his familiar voice.

“Oh, my God! Princess!” he shouts, immediately awake. “Where are you? Are you okay? I've been looking for you everywhere. I’ve turned every corner of the world upside-down trying to find you.” His words rush out in a panic.

“Daddy, I'm okay,” I reassure him. “I’m in Raleigh, North Carolina right now. I need you to help me find a way home. I don't have any money or ID on me, so I'm in a big bind.”

As I explain to him I’m in a stranger’s truck heading toward Raleigh, he asks to speak with the young man. I hand the phone back over to the stranger, and I find out through their conversation that his name is Heath. I guess it's pretty rude of me that I didn’t even find out his name, and he's rescued me off the side of the road. I hear him exchange personal information with my dad as they talk for a few minutes longer, and then he ends the call.

Why did they hang up? I wasn't done talking to my dad. Before I can utter my question, Heath cocks his head to the side, looking at me with raised brows, and lets out a low whistle. “You must be somebody very, very important, young lady. Your father wants me to take you to the airport and have you fly out on a personal jet. He hung up so he could go ahead and make arrangements stat. He also asked me to personally see to it that you get on that jet safely.” He pauses, giving his full attention back to the road, and changes lanes. “It's not every day someone offers you twenty grand to ditch half the workday and see to it that someone's daughter gets on a plane headed home.” He shakes his head with incredulous disbelief. “Honestly, I told your dad that wasn’t necessary, but he sounds as if he's the kind of man you don’t say no to.”

A genuine laugh escapes from my lips. “Oh, you couldn't be any closer to the truth.” I'm so happy and overjoyed right now, I’m sitting on the edge of my seat. No cost is too much for my dad to have his little girl back, and nothing is spared to see it through. I let out a huge sigh of relief as a big smile paints my face.

“Sounds like you're more than just a damsel in distress,” Heath says, eyeing me cautiously. “You must really be going through something epic to be two states up from Georgia, and stuck in the middle of nowhere with nothing on you.”

“You have no idea.” I don't elaborate on that statement, and he doesn't ask. As we get closer to the Raleigh belt-line, we start passing fast food places and he looks to me. “Would you like some coffee or breakfast on the way to the airport?”

“That sounds awesome. Thank you. There's just one slight problem though, and I'm not being picky, but can we stop at a Harris Teeter that has a Starbucks inside? I'm sorry I don't have any money, but my dad will pay you back,” I reassure him.

He bursts out with genuine laughter, and then he runs a hand through his thick blond hair. “Are you kidding me, darlin’? I think I can afford whatever it is you need, especially after your dad just wired twenty grand to my account.”

Wow,
there are no words,
I think as I slump back into the cushioned seat of Heath’s truck in relief and briefly close my eyes. Resting my head back against the headrest, I gaze out the window, watching the morning sunrise come up over the interstate as it casts a bright light on a new day full of hope. Elation fills me as rays of sunshine filter through the clouds above, emitting a lighthearted spiritual feel. It feels odd how everyone is rushing around, each in their own little world as they get ready to start their daily grind. I wonder how many of these people take their life and freedom for granted.