Page List


Font:  

At the moment, I refuse to swim in a sea of guilt over the fact my body, mind, and virginity were meant for Adam, and now he won’t have any of it. The thought leaves a few stray tears behind from what’s left of my depleted emotions. But most of all, I fear Nick. I fear he will go to any length necessary to keep me chained to his hip. He’s a smart man, and I think he’s already thought of every loophole possible to hold me here. I don’t think there are any pitfalls or stones unturned to his masterful plan.

I saw his true colors tonight as he exposed himself to be everything I surmised him to be. His extreme behavior, obsessiveness, control tactics, and violent reactions have opened my eyes to the seriousness of his addiction, which is me. Not only that, but I fear for the fool who ever tries to take me away from him. I believe he will kill them in cold blood and not even blink an eye.

~Travis~

Noises of New York City bombard me from every angle. Car horns blare, people yell, and every other conceivable noise of city life overtake my eardrums as I flag down a cab outside the hotel I’m staying in. This is the last leg of my journey. I’ve already been to Kansas to set up trackers and such for the next unsuspecting victim of Blyss. Craig Reynolds wanted to meet me out of town, which is smart. With New York being a busy place, there isn’t anybody to recognize either one of us, and once I’m done here, I’ll be on a flight back to the facility by tomorrow at noon.

Finally, a yellow cabbie stops in front of me, and I open the backdoor and slide in. “127 Mulberry Street,” I say and shut the door behind me. Once I settle in, and the cab takes off, I then tell the driver, “Casa Bella Restaurant.” As the cab makes its way toward Little Italy, through the maze of cars and stop lights, I realize this is the first moment I’ve really had to catch my breath. I’ve been running full steam ahead, knocking out the duties on my list one-by-one. In the quiet of the cab, I find myself reflecting back, thinking of the last time I saw Julianna. My lips form a hard line at the thought; it wasn’t a pretty sight.

I hated having to go into her room, acting cold and callous, and I really loathed calling her a slave. However, I knew if I didn’t portray anything but a bastard, there would have been no one to protect her if she acted out while I’m away. With me being out of town, she would totally be at Nick’s mercy, and the man is merciless. Acting like a dick was for her benefit, and the only way I knew how to protect her, because going soft on her wasn’t working; it only fueled her independent streak more.

I remember the feeling I got as I watched her kneeling form tremble in fear and shock before my very eyes, and it made me feel like the son-of-a-bitch I really was. I had no choice though; my back was to the wall, and at the very least, it would make her obey, which would most likely save her life in the long run.

However, I wound up being able to kill two birds with one stone on her birthday. I absolutely had to break our little tryst. Both of us were getting way too comfortable with each other, and I found myself sailing off course, losing sight of my objectives. I have a plan, and I can’t afford for anything to get in my way, but damn if she hadn’t become addictive from day one. Everything seems so right when I’m with her and God did I wish I could’ve been her first.

My hands clench into fists at the thought of Nick taking her untouched body this very night. I experienced something primal and feral the day she became intimate with me, and it took everything I had not to rip my jeans off and make her mine right there for all the world to see. I wanted her so damn bad I could almost taste it. I have no doubt it would’ve cost me my life right on the spot. Hell, just our little interlude alone almost cost me.

I let out a loud sigh into the cab and glance at the buildings rushing by in the dwindling daylight, analyzing and thinking about my predicaments.

If I didn’t rein in her display of affections toward me, which were becoming more apparent each day, Nick would’ve had a coronary. I noticed she’d begun leaning on me with a dangerous familiarity, and if I’m not mistaken, possibly confusing her feelings with love. The irony is not lost on me. How could she be developing feelings for such a bastard like me? She’s a captive, for fuck’s sake. Does she have Stockholm syndrome?


Tags: J.C. Cliff The Blyss Trilogy Erotic