Blyssfully Undone (The Blyss Trilogy 3)

“You got it. Give me a sec to pull over and I’ll get her something.”

Holy shit, what a long day. I step out of the vehicle and arch my back, stretching out. We spent seven hours on the road, and after the morning we had, both Stryker and I look like hell. Jules finally did take some medicine to calm her nerves, which made her sleepy, so she slept half the way. When we stopped for dinner and fuel, I could barely get her to eat. Stryker assured me this was normal, and the most important thing was to push the fluids, so I did.

It’s about eight o’clock, with a little bit of daylight left. I turn around and look at Jules. She’s laying down on the back seat staring blankly at the ceiling. I rub my forehead, the tension mounting.

Stryker comes up behind me and slaps my back. “Buddy, it’s late, and by the looks of her, she ain’t walkin’ in. Let me go unlock everything so you can carry her in.”

“Yeah, okay,” I agree in a tired voice. Once Stryker is inside and flips on a few lights, I give her a light kiss on the top of her head and heave her into my arms. I damn near break my back getting Jules out of the car. She’s dead weight.

Just before we hit the first step of the cabin’s front porch, she starts to push against my chest, making my step falter. “Jules, what are you doing?” I ask, my brows knitting together.

She starts to come alive in that moment, like a light switch has just flicked on in her head, and her motor skills kick in.

Highly distraught, she puts up a powerful struggle, fighting to get loose. I wind up losing my grip, and she falls to the ground. She starts screaming, and I stand here looking down at her in bewilderment. “What the fuck is going on?”

“No...no...no...no,” she screams profusely, shaking her head. I bend down to try and pick her back up, and she goes ballistic, uncontrollably thrashing around on the ground. Stryker leaps off the porch and skids to his knees beside us, grabbing her face in his hands.

“Jules, it’s okay. The house is clean,” Stryker says in an urgent voice. “The house is spotless; you would never know.”

Then it dawns on me. This is where she took down one of Nick’s men. Why the fuck didn’t I think about this? Stryker sees the look in my eyes, and tries to reassure me, “Travis, we both fucked this up. We’re men. Men who can kill, and move on. Neither one of us thought this through.”

Desperate, shrill cries fill the silence of the night air. “Get her some meds, Stryker,” I order. I can’t take her being this distraught. “Jules, we’re not going in, okay?” I take her into my arms and hold onto her tightly. She’s shaking all over. “You don’t ever have to go in there, okay?” That seems to be the magic words, because she starts nodding her head instead of shaking it back and forth. “Okay, baby. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Stryker comes back with another pill and a bottled water. When he tries to slip a pill into her mouth, she gets combative and knocks the water and pill out of his hands, sending them flying. “Well, alrighty then. Looks like we’re not thirsty,” Stryker says cooly, letting the stress roll off him.

She starts that rocking shit again, and I don’t know what to do other than start rocking with her. “How about I take her to the bunker?”

“How do you plan on that? You can’t carry her like this,” Stryker rationalizes.

“If you’d get the ATV out, I can take the back route.”

Stryker pauses for a second as he thinks about my suggestion. “All right, we’ll try it. If that doesn’t work, we can always pitch a tent.”

I shoot him a half grin, thankful for his little bit of humor to ease the tension.

I sit outside holding Jules for the next few minutes while Stryker makes quick work of pulling out the ATV. “Hey, baby,” I whisper. “We’re gonna go for a little ride. Need you to hang on tight for me, okay?” I try to keep whispering reassurances to her. I don’t know if they are sinking in or not, but she seems to calm down slightly.

I’m thankful once we’re on the ATV and she wraps her arms around me. I wasn’t sure if she was going to be listless deadweight or not; otherwise, I would be helping Stryker pitch that tent. We make it to the bunker with a little daylight to spare, and I cut the engine. I slip off the ATV, taking Jules by the hands, and she dismounts for me.

“Do you want me to carry you, or do you want to walk?” I ask softly. She stares at me blankly and takes a step toward the bunker on her own. I consider that an improvement. I unlock the bunker and take her by the hand, guiding her inside. She walks into the little living room and just stands there, staring at nothing. Shit.