Blyss (The Blyss Trilogy 1)
My heart drops to the bottom of my feet as both of his hands reach around my neck, searching for the clasp of my medallion. My mouth is agape because of what I believe he’s fixing to do. “Whatever this necklace represents for you, it’s gone.” There’s a calm but real anger in his tone. “It’s gone, just like your hope. I give, and I take.”
My eyes are in refill mode as I whisper a teary-eyed and horrified, “No,” as I shake my head profusely. He unclasps my necklace, and my heart shatters into a million pieces. Panic ensues, my entire body beginning to shake with fury. When Travis removes the necklace, he leans in to kiss me behind my ear, and I want to spit at him. I struggle to breathe, and my vision goes blurry.
I watch him through blurry eyes as he slowly takes a step back from me. He has a smirk plastered on his face, which serves to piss me off even more. I scream out in an unrestrained rage, “I hate you!” I thrash against the binds like a wild animal, my lungs fighting for air. “I hate you!”
He takes another step away from me, and I scream again, only this time, I scream a rant of words. I scream at the bastards for taking me, taking away my future, taking away Adam, and how they’ve now stripped me bare by taking away my mother’s medallion.
I watch through a torrent of tears as Travis continues backing up, still facing me with that evil smirk I despise. I watch as he swipes the unopened birthday present off the table, then he narrows his eyes, giving me a hateful glare. When he reaches the door, he turns on his heels and leaves without another word. I bellow out loudly in pain and anguish at the top of my lungs. I just want to die. I want to slide down and form myself into a tiny ball, but I can’t. I am pinned here to this God-blessed wall with my body wracking with sobs. He knew exactly how to take the last bit of my soul, and he did so wearing an evil smirk on his face. I feel as if I’m a sputtering old car that’s been through a demolition derby. He’s rammed into my heart, rendering me useless, and the first one out of the game.
This feels like something out of a Shakespearean comedy. There’s always a fool, and they become tricked into believing in something that’s not there. Once the misunderstandings begin, a chain of events takes place, and those situations are hilarious. And then it ends.
Watching the fool go through all the motions is like watching a set of dominoes fall as the misunderstandings spread through the cast. The same is happening here, only it’s not funny. It’s not funny at all. This is not a comedy; it’s my life, and it’s screwed up twenty ways ’til Sunday. My conscience has been defiled. It’s a scene that could’ve taken place two thousand years ago, and yet it’s a scene repeated every day, and I’m not immune.
CHAPTER TWENTY
I’m on my third day in solitary confinement, and I’m miserable. I’ve tried doing a little bit of reading, movie-watching, and exercising…
I’m not complaining. I know it can be much worse.
Aw, hell. Yes, I am complaining! Who am I kidding?
I’ve been captive here for two weeks now, and have yet to see daylight. I’m going crazy, and I’m about to start methodically and rhythmically bang my head against the wall. The only thing stopping me from looking like I belong in an insane asylum is the smallest sliver of hope. I’m still clinging to a tiny bit of faith, praying I’ll be rescued. The second I’m free, I swear I will handcuff myself to Adam and never let him out of my sight. My heart aches at the thought of seeing Adam again. I want my family back. I think about all the men in my life—my father, Adam, and Jake. I can’t imagine what they all must be going through right now, especially Jake. My poor Jake—I can only hope he’s doing okay. I don’t know if he was shot or not; it was too dark to tell. Waking up here the following morning, any traces of blood I would have had from either Jake or my catfight were nowhere to be found. I assume it was Travis who’d cleaned me up that first night.
Having three days to stew and digest what happened between Travis and me has left me utterly-deflated. I’d like to think he would take me back under his wing again and protect me from Nick, just long enough until I’m rescued. Of course, I’d be setting myself up for the same humiliating and self-induced misery. Fool me once, shame on you…and all that jazz. I turn my head toward the door, half-expecting to see Travis come through it at any moment, telling me my punishment is over. Maybe when I see him next, he’ll tell me he was just angry, and now that he’s had time to cool off, he would tell me he’s sorry and give me back my medallion. God, I really want my mother’s piece of jewelry back; I feel so bare without it.