Blyssfully Undone: The Blyss Trilogy - book 3 (5 page)

BOOK: Blyssfully Undone: The Blyss Trilogy - book 3
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She clutches at the fabric on my shirt, holding on tightly as her eyes begin to flutter closed. She lets a few choice words slip from her lips before she passes out and goes limp in my arms. Immediately, I scoop her up to hold her in my arms, and then I give Quinn a death glare. “What the hell did you do that for?”

He stands in front of me unaffected, as if it was no big deal he just rendered my girl unconscious. Still biting the needle cap between his molars, he speaks through his clenched teeth, “I couldn’t think with her freaking out. She needed to settle down, T.”

Taking the cap out of his mouth, he carefully inserts the needle back into its plastic sheath and then shrugs his broad shoulders. “We’ve got plans to make, and she was slowing us down.” He feels for her pulse, and then continues, “Trust me, she needed to check out for a while.”

His assessment of her emotional status is most likely correct. She was in emotional overload, and if I wasn’t emotionally attached to her, I’d probably have done the same thing.

“She is going to be pissed off when she wakes up, man,” I warn Quinn.

“If I don’t have at least five women pissed off at me at any given moment, it means I’m doing something wrong.” He turns around and throws the used needle on the kitchen counter, and then turns back to me with his hands on his hips. “Look, she's going to be pissed off either way. Rather her be pissed off later than now. We’ve got other pressing matters to take care of, wouldn’t you say?”

As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right. I don’t have time to pamper her ass. I shake my head and close my eyes for a moment, not looking forward to the thought of her wrath when she wakes up.

“You just poked a sleeping tiger, dude,” I mumble under my breath as I sidestep Quinn, making my way to the larger bedroom on the left. When Quinn lets out a round of successive chuckles behind me, I add, “You think it's funny now, but just you wait and see when her fury falls on
you
. You won't find it so amusing then.”

I gently lay her down on the full-size bed and grab a blanket from the small closet to lay over her. Her hair has started to come undone from its ponytail and is all over the place, with pieces of pine straw matted in. I sit on the edge of the bed for a minute, smooth out some of her tangled hair, and remove the debris. She looks so peaceful like this. I’m really dreading the impending fallout once we have a minute to catch our breath. I don’t even want to think about what will happen if she doesn’t want me.

I sit back for a moment and look upon her with admiration. I still can’t believe she killed a man to defend me today, and she was ready to do it all over again with Mitchell, and then again with Quinn. I shake my head in disbelief. The sheer strength of this woman is off the charts. My heart hurts for her, though, and all the pain she’s been through, and I cringe to think about the trials and tribulations she has yet to go through.

I pray to God I’ve prepared her enough to emotionally be able to withstand the aftermath from the act of killing another. The magnitude of the effects from such a psychological trauma can be so damn debilitating. I need to be the one to help her pick up the pieces, and make sure she’s good with it. I lean forward and press my lips against her forehead, leaving them there against her warm skin. I close my eyes and catch the brief lingering scent of her strawberry shampoo.

“You were so brave today, sweetheart. So…so brave.” Before I pull away, I kiss her cheek reverently, wishing she were awake right now so I could tell her so. I continue talking softly to her as the back of my knuckles tenderly stroke her cheek. “I’ve been dying to say this to you, but I could never seem to find the right time. I love you, Jules. I love you so damn much I can’t stand it, and I don’t know when I can tell you this and have you believe it.”

My gut clenches at the thought of her never believing anything I tell her from here on out. “It’s going to take a while for you to trust me again, but I’m not going anywhere. I will prove myself to you, and I might not be able to tell you the words for a time, but I’ll sure as shit show you how much you mean to me.”

I stay with her a few more minutes, wanting to make sure she’s okay. I cradle her face as my thumb strokes over her lower lip. Her breathing pattern has smoothed out and it’s steady now.

I know Quinn is waiting on me to help him formulate a new plan, but all I want to do is stay holed-up here with her for however many days it will take to make this right between us. I lean down and tenderly kiss her soft lips, murmuring solemnly over her lips, “I was serious when I asked you to be my wife.” Before I pull away from her sleeping form, I give her one more chaste kiss. I have a feeling it will be a cold day in hell before she lets me get this close to her again.

I let out a sigh and begrudgingly leave her side. Out of habit, I shut the bedroom door on my way out, and then make my way to the large dining room table where Quinn sits, patiently waiting for me. His elbows rest heavily on the wood table, and his fingers are threaded together. He looks deep in thought, as he seems to stare right through me.

I pull out a chair from the table and sit down directly across from him. I have crazy adrenaline running through my veins right now, and I can't seem to sit still. My right leg begins to bounce up and down underneath the table as the aftermath of the most fucked-up morning of my life begins to sink in. I look up into my friend’s eyes to see worry etched across his face.

“Travis, I need to look at the back of your neck,” Quinn states with concern. Shit, I had forgotten all about it. I swipe the palm of my hand over the abrasion at the back of my neck, and then look at my hand. “There’s no fresh blood; I’m good right now. I can clean it up later.”

Quinn scoffs at me and shakes his head. “Do you even
feel
pain?” he asks with wonder. I’ve always had a high tolerance for pain, but right now, my adrenaline is going a hundred miles an hour, so I don’t even feel the wound.

“There’s too much other shit to settle first. I don’t have time to feel pain. The first thing we need to figure out, being that we’re in Hyde County, is how the fuck they found us.”

Quinn shakes his head. “I don't know, but it did take them a good while, didn’t it? All of our signals are meant to be boosted for output only. We’re out in the middle of bum-fuck Egypt, so there's no way in hell they could've spotted us with incoming signals.” Quinn then leans back in his chair and crosses his arms, and then asks me a point-blank question. “What about Mitchell? Could he have known about this place?”

I shake my head with earnest conviction. “No. I’m positive, but at least now I know where his loyalties lie. The motherfucker tried to kill me, Quinn.” The very thought that I could’ve died today out in the woods just pisses me off. “I want blood. When this is ironed out, I want to be the one to deliver due justice to him.”

Now I know for certain it was either Mitchell or one of his men who T-boned me in Charleston. I couldn’t be any more pleased that it was Quinn who took him down. The way he was spraying bullets overhead, I knew then Mitchell had his own agenda. He couldn’t have cared less about sparing Jules’ life, and that infuriates me. She’s an innocent in all of this. She didn’t deserve that.

“Look, let’s just handle one thing at a time, okay? Stryker and Chase will put him in a safe place until we’re ready to deal with him, but right now, we need to be concerned with a second attack. We need to get the upper hand and increase our defenses.”

“Not until Jules is out of harm’s way, Quinn,” I sternly argue back. I feel my blood pressure spike at the thought of her getting mixed in with more of the crossfire.

Quinn leans forward as his eyes crinkle at the corners, his features giving off a serious and determined look. “We don’t have a choice. She’s part of this now.” He shakes his head, frustration evident. “And just where is
out of harm’s way
, Travis? She’s the reason why all this exists. They want her, and even though we’re all under fire, she’s safer with us. Not to mention, you’d go fuckin’ nuts worrying about her every second she wasn’t in your line of sight, and you know it.” I stay silent, but nod, acknowledging him. He’s right. “Your attention would be anywhere but on the task at hand. You’d be thinking of her the entire time, worrying if you weren’t there to protect her they would somehow find her and recapture her.”

I'm so fucking fired up it's unreal. I have a million strategic war scenarios spinning around in my mind on top of trying to figure out how I’m supposed to make my relationship with Jules work. Memories from my past try to creep into my thoughts, and I have to remind myself I physically have her within my grasp. I will not let her slip through my fingers. I can’t. I let out a long-winded sigh and run my fingers through my sweaty hair. “I knew they were coming, but I didn't think it would be this soon,” I admit.

“We all knew they would eventually come. You can’t beat yourself up about that, but you need to get your head in the game.”

I look at Quinn disbelievingly. Has he gone crazy? “What the fuck? I am in the game,” I state offensively.

Quinn holds up his hands, palms out, trying to calm my temper. “All I’m saying is you need to prioritize all the shit running through your head right now. I see the wheels spinning in that mind of yours, Trav. We all know you’ve been down this road before, and I don’t need you getting sidetracked. You need to keep the main thing the main thing here, and that’s seeing to everyone’s safety.” He holds up his index finger to make a point. “Since we still have the upper hand, the next thing on the list is to finish those bastards off. Once all that shit is done,
then and only then
can you worry about your Sleeping Beauty.”

I place my elbows on the table and rest my head in the palms of my hands, trying to think. I’m letting my emotions rule over me while trying to prevent history from repeating itself. I need to think about our next step, but I come up empty-handed.

No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to focus on what that next step should be. I keep thinking about the possibility of Jules being captured and getting placed back into the wrong hands again. Growing more frustrated by the second, I act on impulse and reach into my back pocket to pull out my cellphone.

“What are you doing, Travis?” Quinn asks with growing suspicion.

“Getting ready to stir some shit, you know, poke the tiger,” I say while typing a number into the phone, one of which I know by heart.

“Travis?” Quinn questions again, with uncertainty lining his voice.

“Relax. I’m just going to personally let the bastard know his mission failed. I’m sure he’s pacing the floor right now wearing a hole in the carpet, hoping against hope Mitchell has some good news for him.”

I look up after dialing the number, and smirk at Quinn as I put the phone to my ear. I actually feel a little proud I have the opportunity to get under his skin. I want to be the one to personally let him know I still control this situation, and I want to listen to him lose it as he realizes she’s slipped from his hands and into mine.

Picking up on the second ring. “What’s the news?” he asks, his voice coming through loud and clear, and I can hear the eagerness in his tone. He probably thinks I’m one of his men calling him to touch base, especially since my cellphone is encrypted.

“Nick.” I breathe the word like thick venom, and somehow he doesn’t miss a beat.

“Travis,” he says silkily, “I can hear you're still alive. Such a shame.”

“You should know by now it would take more than just a few of your cronies to take me out.” I pause for effect and smooth out my voice. “I’m surprised at your lack of judgment, Nick. Three men, really? Is that the best you’ve got?”

“I want her back, Travis,” he barks out, cutting to the chase.

“If you would've known how to treat her from the get-go, you might have never been put in this predicament,” I taunt.

“Somehow, I doubt that, Travis.” He hesitates for moment, the silence deadly between us before he asks, “What do you want?”

I shake my head even though he can't see me as smug arrogance lines my voice. “I already have what I want, Nick.”

“You bastard!” If Nick could breathe fire, my ear would be singed right now. He’s that pissed.

“I’ve been called much worse,” I calmly state.

“You're not going to keep her. I’m all over your ass, Travis, and I’d quit while I’m ahead if I were you. Turn her over, and I might spare you,” he warns.

“I don’t need sparing, and I believe since I've already got her, the
finders keepers
and all that shit applies.”

He chuckles menacingly into the phone. “Why are you really calling, Travis? Did I stir up your little love nest? Are you upset you got blindsided by my men? I'm one up on you, and I plan to keep it that way.”

“Nope, not upset at all. Give me your best shot, Nick,” I say nonchalantly. “Oh, wait, you already did, and you failed.” I then think of Jules and how she almost got shot down. “By the way, just so you know, tell your dipshit men to aim at me next time, and not Jules.”

“What? Was she shot?” he asks with sudden panic.

“Near misses, Nick,” I spit out angrily. “Of course the men you sent couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn.” I know the bastard isn’t going to tell me how he found us, so I don’t even ask. At minimum, however, I want to take a jab at him, get under his skin, and let him know more than just his mission failed. “You know, a real man would’ve come after his woman, but instead you sent a team of dysfunctional dumbasses. What does that say about you, Nick?”

“You have to know your days are numbered, Travis,” he hisses.

“Everyone's days are numbered, Nick. Some have larger numbers than others. Since your men fight like pussies, I’ll live to be a ripe old age.”

I hear a string of curses come through the receiver. He is so pissed off on a rant that I hold the phone away from my ear and his voice fills the room. Quinn shakes his head at me in amusement while he starts to chuckle.

“Travis! Travis! Do you hear me?!” Nick bellows. “I want her back, dammit!” I hear the desperation growing thick in his voice as he adds, “Name your price.”

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