Blyssful Lies Read Online J.C. Cliff (Blyss Trilogy #2)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Crime, Dark, Erotic, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: The Blyss Trilogy Series by J.C. Cliff
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Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 104011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
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“You have no idea how much your help means to me.”

“I know I don’t have to tell you to be careful, but the way you just lied in there…” He gestures with his hand, indicating the room behind me, where Jules is. Exasperation lines his deep voice as he shakes his head at me. “The lies just rolled off your tongue without even missing a beat.” He runs his hand back and forth over the top of his buzz cut in frustration. “Hell, Travis! You told her you were meeting her for dinner at,” he looks down at his watch, “eleven o’clock in the morning! You were so damn slick you even had me buying it. I bet you could pass a slew of lie detectors, while your hand is still in the cookie jar.”

I did fuck that one up didn’t I? I’ve been running on fumes since New York, and lost track of time in the midst of this chaos. I want to laugh so bad over my faux pas but realize it’s because I’m probably getting a little slap happy from the lack of sleep, and if I crack up, Grant will be pissed. It’s a good thing she was unconscious beforehand. She had no sense of how much time had passed.

I bite the inside of my cheek to avoid erupting into laughter over my mishap as Grant’s animated tirade continues. “You know I hate backing up a lie more than anything in this world. Whatever this is you’re into, it has me thinking you’re in way over your head.” Yes, he may have a point there. I don’t know where the waterline is, and I may very well be drowning, but not likely. I have a few life preservers stowed away.

I try to ease Grant’s worry. He doesn’t know exactly what I do; he just knows I live in constant danger, but it guts me nonetheless to see him so upset. I hate having to blatantly lie in front of him, but I had no choice. I couldn’t see her making a cognizant decision, and I didn’t think she would want to go willingly if I told her I kidnapped her. With time being of the essence, I had to say whatever it took to get her to comply willingly. I would’ve taken her by force if I had to, but I wanted her to think coming with me was her decision. I feel we’ve already wasted enough valuable time as it is, and I’m not used to dealing with these sorts of problems, especially having to smooth ruffled feathers; it’s not my forte.

I reach out and clasp Grant’s shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “Grant, man, listen. You have to trust me here. I’ve got this under control. She is in danger, serious danger, and I will do anything...anything at all to keep her out of harm’s way.” This man, who has played the part of my dad for the past twenty some-odd years, is truly worried. He’s never seen me on the run before. It’s usually the other way around, as people run from me. I look him square in the eyes, unblinking. “If I have to lie to keep her safe, so be it. I will deal with the aftermath later.”

Grant exhales a deep breath. “I know, Travis. It’s just hard sometimes for me to be able to accept your line of work. I worry about you.”

I pull Grant in for a father and son type hug, and we slap each other on the back roughly. “I appreciate it, man, more than you know, but I’m good.” I pull back, holding both of my palms out. “I promise I’m good. No need to worry. All I need is just a little help piecing Jules back together.”

Grant nods his head in agreement. “What do you need?”

“Well, for starters, can you give me an educated guess of how long her memory loss will last?”

Grant blows out a big breath, his cheeks ballooning and his lips fluttering as the forced air rushes out. He shakes his head, staring off to the side, looking at nothing in particular. “Honestly, even with extensive x-rays and testing, it’s difficult to gauge the severity of her situation accurately. If I had to guess, her head injury seems to be bordering on the high side of moderate. It could even be teetering on the edge of severe,” he rests his hands on his hips, cocking his head to the side, “but not having a crystal ball, it’s hard to pinpoint where she’s at in the scheme of things. Judging from the wild goose chase you two seem to be on, the use of experimental drugs running through her system, and all of her compiled stresses,” he pauses in thought, and then scratches his head, “I’d say there are quite a few variables stacked against her, all of which have contributed to where she’s at right now.”



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