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“Hey! Hey, now...stop,” Travis says firmly. He takes my hands in his to prevent me from causing further self-injury, and I let out a wail of frustration.
“What’s happening to me?” I cry out. Since my hands are trapped, I find myself starting to bang my already-sore head against the headboard, wincing in pain.
“Stop it!” Travis bellows, and his reverberating voice freezes me in place. He lets go of my hands and wraps me in a strong, warm embrace. His familiar scent of leather envelops me, warming my insides. I can feel the muscles in his chest and biceps as he pulls me in closer to him, pulling me out of both my shock and my tantrum.
“You’re going to be okay. I’ve got you,” he whispers softly in my ear. For some strange reason, I find myself slipping my arms around his thick body, returning his embrace; I can’t help myself. Being wrapped in his arms gives me the illusion of being out of harm’s way. I feel his muscles flex in his upper back while my nose nestles into the crook of his neck, inhaling pure man.
He then mirrors my actions, leaning in to nuzzle my neck, his soft breaths cascading over my neck, sending goose bumps down my spine. I allow myself to take comfort in the moment and get lost in his touch. I don’t know what it is about Travis, but he has a magnetic-like pull on my body and mind, and seems to have the ability to erase the bad.
I’m scared—actually, more than scared, perhaps utterly terrified. What if my father and his men don’t get to me in time, and I’ve been shattered beyond repair by the things Nick has planned for me? What about Adam, and our future plans? Oh, God! Who’s going to be the one to tell him what had happened? I can’t imagine what’s going through his mind right now. I feel myself getting upset all over again, and new tears begin to form.
By the sound of it, Nick has been planning this for a long while. My body shivers at the thought, and I fist the fabric on the back of Travis’ shirt in a frustrated death grip. He feels my growing anxiety and pulls back to see my eyes mimicking a deer in headlights, as the reality of my new world sinks in.
“I need you to trust me,” he says with a deep, firm voice. “I’ve got you, okay?” I pull my lower lip between my teeth in worry. I don’t know what he’s trying to say, but I decide to nod my head in agreement anyway, as if I understand. “I’m serious; you will come to learn really quickly that I’m a man of my word, and I mean what I say.”
I nod again to placate him. He wants me to trust him to do what? Trust he will abuse me, use me? It takes a lot to trust someone, let alone a couple of thugs who have wicked plans, and if I don’t comply, they will give me away to sex traffickers. My stomach twists in a knot at the thought.
Leaning in only inches from my face, he lets out a sigh. “If you don’t want to be called ‘Princess,’ what would you like me to call you?”
Well, that question came out of left field. I shake my head, giving him a puzzled look, and croakily answer, “Julianna. My name is Julianna, but my close friends…they call me Jules.” Now, why the hell did I just tell him that? It’s as if I’m saying, ‘Yeah, hot captor babe, you can call me Jules.’
“Well, how about I start with Julianna then? Would that be all right?” I take a deep breath and nod. “That-a girl. Focus on your breathing.” Travis moves his hands to my tear-streaked face and wipes away the wetness. I sniffle and take in more oxygen. “Keep taking deep breaths for me,” he urges.
His thumbs are still on my face, but he’s no longer wiping my tears. He’s caressing my cheeks where Nick held me so roughly before. His soft touch is distracting me from my troubled thoughts, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think he’s trying to rub away the memory of Nick’s touch. Thinking of Nick again sends a shiver through my body.
“Shh, settle down now,” he whispers. The way Travis is staring at me makes my heart race. I’m becoming hyper-aware of him and the effect he’s having on me, and I hate myself a little more. I feel blood rushing to my face, and he gives me a sexy, knowing grin. I shift my gaze downward, studying his forearms to hide my forming blush.
“All right then, Julianna,” he says, and I love the way he rolls my name off his tongue. He then places his calloused finger under my chin and slowly lifts my gaze to meet his again. He inclines his head, and it feels as if he’s going to move in for a kiss. Whoa—my heart beats double-time, and my stomach flips into a knot. “Julianna,” he whispers my name as if it’s a prayer, “you are safe with me. I promise you can trust what I say. I’m not going to hurt you.”
