BLYSS (Blyss Trilogy #1)

by J. C. Cliff

  “Because you’ve never touched these girls the way you touched her, Travis. The way you kissed her, it all looked too real, something I’ve never seen you do before. Seeing the both of you together like that...” Nick pauses, “Just...damnit, Travis, you weren’t supposed to get that intimate with her!” He sounds out in a blind rage. An object crashes loudly against a wall, and I jerk back, startled by the loud impact. It shatters, sounding like broken glass, and I listen as it scatters over the floor. My heart rate begins picking up, then Nick bellows out, “I go out of town for two damn days, and when I come back, I get to review the video footage that shows your fucking dick in her mouth?” I can feel the tension in the room seep out from underneath the door. “Care to share about that one?”

  “I’m a grown man, Nick! I’m not a damn monk,” Travis yells. “I usually have these girls strapped down, so they don’t get the opportunity to touch me.” He pauses. “Shit, give me a break. We’ve doubled her dose; what did you expect? And I’m not going to stand here and lie either, the girl is beautiful. I swear to you, Nick—there is nothing there. I couldn’t care less about her. I can sure as hell promise you that. You’re reading way more into this than you need to. So what…she got my rocks off, big fucking deal.”

  “I thought…”

  “You thought what?” Travis scoffs, his voice laced with incredulity. “What are you getting at here, Nick? Did you think I was beginning to fall for her?” I’ve never heard Travis give such an evil laugh before, and it sends shivers down my spine. “I have five other girls to train at the moment, on top of having to run this facility and secure future deals. So, tell me, Nick—what the hell would I want with a full-time bitch?”

  I hear heavy footsteps crossing the room. I can’t move; my feet are frozen to the floor. If they open the door, they will just have to see me. “Nick, I don’t have the time or the inclination to wipe that kid’s nose at every turn. In fact, I’m getting downright tired of it. She’s a time-consuming, spoiled, rich kid who’s a pain in my ass.”

  Travis gives a sardonic chuckle and pure sincerity laces his voice. “I don’t know what the hell you even see in her to begin with, but hey, to each his own, right? I prefer real women, Nick, ones who know how to handle a man like me. Good luck with her. She’s incorrigible.” My heart sinks to the bottom of my stomach, and I want to puke.

  “You know what, Travis?” Nick pauses. “I think I need to break her in myself. If she’s that incorrigible while taking double the dose, she’s going to need a firmer hand.”

  My gut twists at the thought. I’ve heard enough. Forcing my feet to move, I shake like a leaf all the way down the hall to the bathroom. I’m barely able to contain the rising bile as it works its way up my esophagus, burning the back of my throat. As soon as I open the bathroom door, it’s all I can do to make it to the commode in time. I gag, trying to suppress the inevitable, but my nerves win out. Everything I ate earlier resurfaces with a vengeance. Gah, I hate throwing up. I’m such a mess. My hands and legs are shaking profusely from the aftermath. With my hand, I grasp the silver handicap bar beside me for stability. I slowly rise, thanking my lucky stars I decided to put my hair up today.

  Looking around the private bathroom, I’m surprised to see a lock on the door. Seems like all I’ve ever wanted to do for the past week is escape from behind locked doors. Now, I just want the opposite. I take the couple steps to lock the door with shaky limbs.

  Flushing the commode, I wash my hands and rinse out my mouth. I grab some towels, running cool water over them to pat over my clammy face and the back of my neck. I simply have no words; I’m too stunned to pick this apart and analyze it. I see tears in my reflection, welling in my eyes. What did I think this was, anyway, this thing between Travis and me?

  I jump in surprise when an abrupt pounding sounds at the door. “Julianna! Are you in there?” My hand flies to my fluttering heart, and I shake my head. I can’t take much more of this. More pounding ensues, and the doors handle jiggles. “Julianna!” I recognize Nick’s voice.

  I swallow hard, and then speak loudly and as calmly as possible, enough for Nick to hear me through the door. “I’m in here. I’ll be out in a minute.” I can’t have them know I was eavesdropping. Shit, pull it together! I will be damned if they see me cry again. Wouldn’t want to put anyone out by one of them having to wipe my nose, seeing as they’re the ones causing all the chaos in my life.

  “I’ll be waiting right outside this door for you, Julianna.”

  Turning back toward the mirror, I whisper to myself, “Great, just lovely.” As I finish cleaning up, I give myself a pep talk, making myself hold a smile the entire time, practicing a happy-go-lucky calmness I don’t have. If they have hidden cameras in here, it will look as if I belong in a psych ward right now. The thought makes me laugh; maybe if I go Norman Bates on them, they’ll let me go. Now I really have lost it.

  I let out a sigh; time to get this show on the road. Swinging open the bathroom door, I start with a gasp. Nick stands inches from me as his head rests against the doorframe. My God, he’s so handsome he takes my breath away. A piece of his hair dances across his forehead, adding to his sexiness. He smiles at me, showcasing his perfect, white teeth. I reply with a shaky, timid, and forced smile.

  “Are you all right, love?” he asks in a low and sinful baritone voice.

  I nod my head and feebly respond, “I think I ate something this morning that disagreed with my stomach, but I’ll be all right.”

  Eyeing me speculatively for a second, he then pushes himself off the doorframe, and suddenly, I find myself wrapped in his strong arms. It’s an odd embrace. He pulls me in tighter, as if I’m going to evaporate into thin air. There is no underlying sexual prowess to this embrace. It mimics more like a ‘sight for sore eyes’ type of cuddle.

  “I’ve missed you, love,” he says softly over the top of my head. I can’t say I feel the same about him. I can do a lot of things, but reciprocating affection to somebody I don’t like isn’t one of them; I am an art major, not an actress. He’s the director and choreographer of this play, which just so happens to be my life. I despise him for all he’s done to me and all he still plans on doing to me.

  He pulls back, scanning over my features. “Did you miss me?”

  Is this man for real? He seems to be under the illusion we actually have a relationship! I close my eyes briefly and school my thoughts. I’m having one hell of a day, and I’m not in the mood for more conflict, not after what I just heard. “Nick, I don’t know you enough to miss you.” This is where I need to turn off the ignition to my motor mouth and keep it from running a crash course. In order to do so, I bite my bottom lip…hard.

  Nick chuckles, and a lopsided grin appears. Using his thumb, he displaces my bottom lip from between my teeth. “Don’t be scared, love. I keep forgetting I’ve known you for over half a decade, and you’ve never met me before all this.” He then traces his finger along my eyebrows, smoothing out my worry lines. “Hey, don’t look so worried; I don’t bite.” I want to deride him and argue the case, but I’d only taunt him into a fight. He cocks his head to the side and gives me a reassuring smile. “Come, I have a nice birthday luncheon for you.” He puts his arm around me and guides me back through the hallway toward the gathering.

  Nick pulls out a chair for me at a head table, and I sit down. As soon as Nick scoots me in toward the table, my eyes scan the room, and my sights lock on Travis. He’s openly flirting with a group of women, and I feel like puking all over again. His hateful words play like a broken record inside my head.

  “Hey, love,” Nick whispers, pulling me out of my thoughts. He gently guides my chin to meet his gaze. “You sure you’re all right? You seem a million miles away right now.” I feel my hands begin to shake, so I twist my fingers in my lap. I lift the corners of my mouth to force a small smile.

  Nick’s controlling behavior and unrealistic fantasies scare the shit out of me. Every signal I get from him points toward an obse
ssive neurosis. He’s fabricated his own false relationship with me. When I heard him ranting behind that closed door, and the way he was unleashing his fury on Travis, it only confirmed he’s a man who’s obsessed.

  I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. “I guess my breakfast is still disagreeing with my stomach. You don’t think the cooks slipped up and cross-contaminated my food, do you?”

  Nick’s brow furrows, and he looks a tad irritated at the thought. “They better not have. I will have a chat with the chef after lunch. I made specific arrangements to have your needs accommodated for. All of the people in the kitchen know to follow those orders specifically.”

  A few waiters appear out of thin air holding trays of food and drinks. I smile politely when a waiter places a steaming hot plate of rice, chicken, and vegetables in front of me. I’m not feeling particularly hungry. Tension and anxiety has settled in my stomach, leaving a huge rock at the base of my gut. When he leaves, Nick places his hand over mine on my lap. He unclenches my fist and threads his fingers through mine. “You seem upset about something else. This is more than your stomach disagreeing with you.”

  He looks at me expectantly as I reach for my glass of water and take a drink, purposely delaying my answer. Allowing the cool liquid to pool at the back of my sore throat, I swallow slowly, and then I try skirting along the truth. “I just wish I could have been at home with my family and friends today. I really miss my father.” Verbalizing the very thoughts I’ve been trying to suppress all morning only serves to taunt my brittle nerves. Suddenly, I’m exhausted and weary. With the emotional roller-coaster ride I’ve been on over the past week, then Travis leading me on with words only to turn around in the same day, totally dissing me; it’s the perfect recipe for a mental breakdown. I sigh in defeat and try to compose myself as my eyes want to fill with tears. I blink them a few times, suppressing the urge to fall apart.

  “You are home, love. I am your family now,” he tenderly strokes my cheek and looks upon me with adoration, “and I will be the only friend you will ever need.” He leans in to give me a loving kiss on the lips and lingers there, breathing me in. In a soft, warm voice, he tells me, “I’ve decided today that Travis will no longer be the one to train you.” My eyes bulge at the thought of losing my security blanket, even though I really mean nothing to him. “Is that a problem for you, love?” Nick’s tone takes a left turn onto Jealous Street.

  “No,” I shake my head, replaying Travis’ cold, hard words in my head, which brings anger to the surface, “I’ll be glad not to ever see him again.” I turn my head and darkly narrow my eyes at Travis across the room, and I see a new bimbo hanging all over him. A slow burn settles into the pit of my stomach as I wonder how many romps in the hay he’s had with that one. He’s such a player and an evil manipulator. “If I never see him again, it will be a day too soon,” I say with disdain lacing my voice.

  Apparently, Nick is pleased with my reaction, and he wraps me in a warm embrace. His hand rests at the back of my neck as he whispers into my ear, “It pleases me to no end to hear that. I knew we were meant to be, love.” He kisses the side of my neck, and I clench my hands, willing myself not to pull away and wipe off his kisses.

  “Try to eat something.” He nods toward my lunch. I reluctantly pick up my fork and begin to shuffle the food around on my plate. Thank God, Nick gets distracted with people constantly coming over to chat with him, and it keeps me from having to make small talk. Now if only I had a dog begging under the table, I’d secretly feed him so I wouldn’t have to eat.

  I keep my head down for the most part and smile on cue when Nick introduces me to strangers I care nothing about. I take a few bites of food, willing this day to be over.

  Once everyone has eaten and the plates have been cleared, Nick grabs my hand and squeezes it. He’s wearing a shit-eating grin on his face, and I’m curious as to what he’s up to. The lights begin to dim, and instantly I scan the room, wondering what’s going on.

  The legs of Nick’s chair makes a scraping noise when he scoots back and he stands up, pulling me along with him. “Come, I’ve got a surprise for you.”

  “Is it alcohol?” I would seriously love some right now. I am twenty-one, after all, and I could sure go for a case of Jose Cuervo right about now.

  Nick tweaks my nose and grins. “You’re funny, you know that? But it wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you. Come on.” He’s like a kid in a candy store as he pulls me along to the center of the room. The lights have fully dimmed now, and everyone turns quiet. I fidget uncomfortably, hating to be the center of attention.

  Three waiters wheel in a birthday cake the size of Mt. Rushmore. I’m awe-struck. Nick squeezes my hand; he’s excited. The cake is a pure masterpiece; it looks like a castle straight out of a fairytale, and it’s beyond exquisite. Tiny replicas of people and horses adorn the inside and outside of the fortress, with foliage spread out everywhere.

  “Happy Birthday, Princess,” Nick says proudly. He pulls me into the side of his muscular body, guides my lips to his, and kisses me long and hard. Thank God he doesn’t force his tongue on me in public, or I would’ve bitten it. Releasing me, he whispers, “Go on and have a look.”

  I automatically approach the monstrosity of a cake with curiosity. I love anything artistic, and this takes the cake—pun intended. It looks as if the Cake Boss himself along with his crew made it just for me, painstakingly working their asses off to get it just right. The miniature castle has multiple colorful, tapering spires protruding from the top. I see 360 degrees of beautiful, arched, stained-glass windows adorning the cake as I walk around it full circle. It has to be at least four feet wide and three feet high, and I’m sure it cost thousands.

  When I get around to the front of it, there’s a red carpet running down the middle of the drawbridge. I tilt my head sideways to see it reads, PRINCESS.

  The irony of the cake is not lost on me. It is a mockery of my life, ridiculing me, teasing me with a fairytale, illusions of a happily ever after. I left one castle—correction, I was taken from one castle—only to be held captive in another, only this one brings with it the stark reality I no longer have my freedom. I’m going to be Nick’s sex slave in this castle, helplessly locked away in one of those turret towers and living within its fortified structure. I’ll be forced to live a life of drugs and debauchery. Suddenly, I feel my stomach twisting in knots.

  I feel an arm slip around my waist, and I instantly know it’s Nick; his expensive cologne gives him away every time. His lips whisper over my ear, as he murmurs, “My sweet princess, my sleeping beauty, I’ve come to claim my kiss.” I feel my fury brewing like I’m a locomotive building steam and power, getting ready to blow its stack. I hear him add, “Then we will live happily ever after,” and that’s when the train’s whistle blows.

  How dare Nick mock me! Uncontrolled anger bubbles up from my very depths as my boiling point is reached, and I bubble over. Before I know what’s happening, my body has taken over, venting all of its frustrations on the little kingdom below. As if I am King Kong, I find myself grabbing the draped cart holding the replica of my imprisoned life. I heave the cart up and over on its side, and I watch in wonder as the walls come tumbling down. Little people go running for their lives in a massive disaster of epic proportions. The icing creates a mudslide, mixing together and producing a rainbow of bright, vivid colors as it spreads out across the floor. My brain misfires a few synapses as I slip into a realm of my own. Tilting my head to the side, I stand there marveling and appreciating my new work of art, and I actually feel quite proud of myself. The tiled floor being my canvas, I study the different colors, dimensions, and textures on display, admiring my handiwork in wonder. The fallen castle has evolved from a renaissance art into a modern piece, and I name this new masterpiece of mine, Freedom.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Suddenly, I find myself airborne. It was opening night, and I didn’t even get a chance to introduce my new masterpiece. Bummer. It takes a second
for me to realize I’ve been thrown over Travis’ shoulder and am now hanging upside down. With my rage still in full force, Travis’ back becomes my punching bag. I hate him so much. “Put me down, you sorry asshole! Don’t you dare touch me!”

  He ignores my demands as he makes his way out of the room. I twist and struggle against his strong hold, and as soon as we step out of everyone’s view, I feel several sharp, hard blows to my ass. I scream out in startled surprise and squirm, trying to evade his whacks, and break free, but it’s no use. I push through his painful blowing smacks and keep hitting him for all I’m worth. I’ve got tunnel vision, and I’m filled with anger; I want the hell out of here. I didn’t ask for any of this.

  Travis said some cruel and vile words about me today, and it cut deep. I’m still going all barbaric on him by the time he reaches the door to my room. The door clicks open, and he strolls through. I’m winded and breathing heavily, having spent all my energy punching Travis.

  “Put me down. Now!” Travis totally ignores me. “I said put me down!” I seethe and smack his back again. A light suddenly turns on in the kitchen, then I hear an electric hum and my angry face turns into one of confusion. What the hell? Travis moves forward, past the sofa, and to the red-curtained wall. I stiffen and begin to panic. Oh, shit.

  Before I know it, I’m standing upright, only to realize he has me backed against the St. Andrew’s Cross. My heart speeds up with the thought he’s going to punish me. His emerald eyes drill into me with an intense anger I’ve never seen before.

  We are nose-to-nose as he growls menacingly through clenched teeth like a drill sergeant, “I can’t decide if the line you’re walking on is one of bravery or stupidity! Didn’t you know this was part of a test? This was a preliminary round to put you with other people to see how you would respond socially, and I have to tell you, you fuckin’ failed miserably. When you have the audacity to not only conspire against us, but act like a three-year-old in a temper tantrum…” his head shakes back and forth, “…well that…that just takes the cake, doesn’t it?”