Blyssfully Undone (The Blyss Trilogy 3)

I shake my head over and over again, my hands tightly clinging to the fabric of Travis’ shirt. “No?” He shrugs. “Suit yourself. I don’t have a problem shooting your lover right here where he stands.”

“If you shoot, the bullet will go right through him and hit me. Is that how Nick wanted me back?” I reason with a shaky voice.

“Who said anything about shooting him in the gut. I have about ten different places I can shoot him within the blink of an eye and still miss you by a foot.”

All the blood rushes from my head, making me feel dizzy. I have to do something other than let the situation control me. I’ll be damned if I wind up under Nick again, let alone have this man hurt Travis.

Keeping my eyes pinned on the evil man, I slowly slide my right hand from Travis’ hip until I feel the cool metal of his gun holstered at the small of his back in the waistband of his jeans. I gesture with a nod, indicating I will cooperate, playing his game to bide time. “Okay, but if I agree, you won’t hurt Travis, will you?”

“I won’t hurt him, unless he tries something foolish,” he says with a raised brow as he glances at Travis. “Of course, once Nick gets ahold of him, I can’t promise anything.”

Ever so carefully, I wrap my hand around the metal grip and slip the gun out. Since Travis is so wide and broad, there is no way this man would be able to tell what I’m about to do.

I slowly take one cautious step to the left of Travis, and the man speaks up, startling me. “That’s it, Princess, nice and slow. I wouldn’t want to hurt your lover-boy here.”

I’m supposed to have no qualms when it comes to eliminating the enemy. That’s what Travis and Stryker drilled into me. It’s either kill or be killed, they told me. It’s a lie, however; it’s simply a coping mechanism. It’s just not that simple. I will never be able to forget what I’ve already done, or what I’m about to do.

I take my second step around Travis with his gun on the ready, but before I can do anything, the man’s eyes go wide and I watch in horror as he falls to the floor grabbing his right shoulder, crying out in pain. Blood spills from his arm like someone just struck oil. My hand covers my mouth reflexively as desperate terror overtakes me. My shaking hand lets go of the gun as it slips out of my grip, dropping to the floor. Travis dives over the man, pinning him down as he makes a grab for his gun. My chest is pounding with panic, and as I glance into the dining area, there are more men running our way with their weapons drawn. Without making a conscious decision, my feet take flight and I run the opposite way. Travis must have handpicked this restaurant with good reason, because there’s a back entrance. Leave it to him to think of all the angles.

I push the bar inward on the steel door and break free, leaving the mayhem behind. I run like I’ve never ran before. I don’t know where the hell I’m going, but once I can hide myself, I’ll figure it out. I make it half a block before I hear heavy footsteps running up behind me. I don’t look back as an adrenaline-fueled surge of panic kicks in and I pick up speed, but it’s not enough.

Thick, large arms wrap around my upper body, and suddenly I’m being tackled like a linebacker. I squeeze my eyes shut, preparing for the inevitable crash against the asphalt, but it never comes. Whoever has tackled me twisted our bodies together in such a way that he takes the brunt of the fall on his back with me on top. I let out an ear-piercing scream, and I begin to buck and thrash with everything I have. Hysteria is all I feel as I try to break free.

“Jules! Calm the fuck down!” the man’s voice bellows behind me. “It’s me, Quinn!” he yells. My chest rises and falls as I gasp for air, my lungs burning from lack of oxygen. The crazy situation I’ve just lived through is too much for me to handle. My body begins to tremble, my mind becoming a scrambled mess as Quinn keeps a death grip on me. There’s no digesting this. This isn’t happening. I have the sudden urge to vomit, and I feel hot and clammy all over. Without warning, everything goes black.

I hear a deep voice fading in and out, sounding upset. “She’s in shock.”

“I know what the fuck she is, Stryker. I’m handling it,” Travis’ voice hisses over my head. I blink a few times and realize I’m being held in his arms. Did I pass out? As my eyes come into focus, I’m met with Travis’ broad chest. I wearily lift my head up, and immediately, I’m met with stark green eyes filled with concern as he searches my face. His voice aches with pain as he asks, “Baby, are you okay?”