Blyssfully Undone (The Blyss Trilogy 3)

I was not happy she slept into the next day the way she did. I’m sure the mental stresses combined with the drugs Quinn gave her must’ve been too much for her petite body to handle. I’d also bet ten-to-one the sedative she got was meant for a man twice her size, hence her being out of it for a lot longer than she should’ve been. That thought pisses me off all over again. Thank God for Stryker. He kept monitoring her heart rate and blood pressure constantly, and he had other meds to give her should something have gone wrong. Quinn and I had terse words over him arbitrarily deciding on his own what he thought Jules needed. After our talk, I don’t think he will ever give her anything ever again, not even an aspirin.

She must have sensed me staring at her, because she turns around and meets my gaze. She looks tired despite the vast amount of sleep she’s just had. Maybe tired is the wrong word; defeated and mentally worn down is a better description of the Jules I see. My chest tightens with remorse, because I know this is the beginning of the chaos to come. She probably thinks we’re having a reprieve from the battle, and she couldn’t be farther from the truth. I know she’s a tough girl, but even some of the toughest men I’ve known have met their breaking point, and she’s no different.

I enter the room at a slow pace, paying close attention to her mood. She’s been through too much to stay even-keeled. I can deal with grumpy on occasion, but becoming a loose cannon is unacceptable, especially right now. I’m prepared to put her in her place if need be.

“It’s quiet. Where is everyone?” she asks in a low voice. She appears to be calm and at peace with her situation right now, and that’s a good sign.

“They left a few minutes ago.” I pull up a chair and sit down beside her, still studying her. “Why are you still in a bathrobe?”

“I didn’t have any clean clothes to change into, and I couldn’t find the clothes you took off me last night. I didn’t want to disturb your meeting, so I was just waiting in here until you were done.”

“I had a runner go pick up a few things for us. I’ll go get them.” I start to get up, but Jules stops me by grabbing onto my forearm. I look from my arm to her face in confusion.

“Travis,” she softly begins, but then stops, hesitating to continue. I can see all the emotions running through her baby blues: fear, worry, betrayal, and God help me, hopefully a little forgiveness is in there. My heart grows heavy from all the turbulence swirling around those sad eyes. She looks so desolate and lonely, and it guts me.

I sit back down and look at her with some much-needed compassion. “Baby, I am so, so sorry.” I reach out and caress her face, not knowing if she wants to punch me or have me touch her.

She leans forward into my touch and places her index finger over my lips to shush me. “I promise I will try to be patient and listen to you. I’m in an odd place right now in my head, you know? I have so many questions, and I’m still not getting any answers. One question in particular keeps circling around in my head, and I have to know.” She hesitates to continue, but I stay silent as I wait for her to find the courage to ask. “I know you said I wasn’t your slave, but you never denied the fact I’m your prisoner. Am I…your prisoner?” she asks, looking me square in the eyes.

Her question is like an electrical shock to my heart, and I feel the voltage shoot through me. No matter how I slice it, she will not be able to understand the complexities of her circumstances, even if I had all day to explain them to her. Nick did a fantastic job of pinning her down, cornering her in like a hunted fox. There is no way out for her. How do I tell her that?

I try my best to downplay her question, cupping her cheeks as I search her eyes imploringly. “Prisoner? No,” I shake my head several times, “but it’s a little more complicated than that.”

“I thought so,” she softly murmurs, interrupting me before I can finish. Her eyes shift away from mine, falling to the floor in defeat.

“No, Jules, look at me.” I patiently wait until she looks up. “You’re right. I can’t let you go, but what you need to understand is that what we had at the cabin wasn’t a lie.” Her eyes start to turn glassy, and I don’t know what to do to fix this. “What we have, what we felt for each other…it’s all real.”