BLYSS (Blyss Trilogy #1) Read Online Free PDF

nails, drawing blood—gives new meaning to blood-red nails. “Goddamn it! Motherfucker, who’s got the fucking drug?” he screams, both burning pain and seething rage lacing his shout.  
    The back of my head gets slammed against the van’s flooring again. As my lungs begin to run out of their reserves, I start to wonder if I’m going to die this way. Before I can feel the terror of my imminent demise, I am blissfully spared the experience. I feel the prick of a needle passing through the barrier of my skin and almost immediately, my muscles begin to betray me. My jaw loosens its grip, and the man yanks his hand from the snare of my canines.
    “Thank God! What the fuck took you so long, asshole?” he sneers vehemently.
    I feel every last one of my faculties rapidly losing their resolve and ability to fight. The man hovering above me graciously backs off his death grip, allowing me to suck in a gasp of air. My lungs frantically claw and inhale for deep breaths to keep my heart beating. Everything is peacefully beginning to fade into a dark haze, and the last words I hear are, “’Bout fuckin’ time, you asshole. Boss ain’t gonna be happy ‘bout the merchandise being knocked around like that.”
    Then everything goes black.

CHAPTER THREE

    I can feel the state between my drug-induced sleep and just waking up. In the background, I faintly hear men quietly chatting. I can only hear bits and pieces of what’s being said. I’m fighting to arouse my body from its drugged mayhem. My mind is telling me to feign sleep so I can eavesdrop on what these men are saying, but the urge to touch the back of my head is too overwhelming. I hear myself groan as aching muscles protest against any movement. My head is throbbing with a pounding pressure attacking me from all sides. My head is a Georgia pecan, and it’s being crushed ruthlessly in a nutcracker.
    My mouth is dry and it’s somewhat welcome, since my throat hurts like hell for me to swallow. Remembering my struggles from last night, I can still feel phantom hands strangling the last breath from my body. I truly didn’t think I’d live to see today.  
    My heartbeat is pulsing in my throat as I fight to suck in a tiny breath of air. I feel as though my windpipe has been crushed. My nostrils flair, inhaling more oxygen, thinking it will somehow bypass my windpipe to add more volume in my lungs.   I have to tell myself not to panic, to take tiny breaths. Small breaths will keep me alive just as much as big ones. Panicking never helps, especially when it comes to starving my lungs of vital oxygen. I hear another whimper escape from my cracked lips.
    “She’s stirring now,” I hear a distant voice say. Chair legs suddenly scrape loudly on a bare floor, and I hear the heavy clacking of shoes making their way across the room, stopping at close range.
    “Wake up, my sleeping princess.” The man’s voice sounds kind and sweet, yet firm and masculine. I’m confused as to who the hell would be calling me his princess; only my father calls me the endearment. I’ll set the man straight at another date and time. Since those men were so kind to do such a number on my throat last night, I don’t have the will to spit out fighting words. I don’t open my eyes, ignoring the command of my new captor. Fearing my head will disintegrate upon impact, I’m afraid to allow even a miniscule amount of light to filter past my eyelashes.
    I can barely manage a whisper of despair. “My head…it hurts…so bad.” The pain is so severe; I almost wish the men would have killed me last night. The way I eased into the deep darkness of sleep last night was almost too easy. Since I have to contend with the living, all I can do at this point is signal to my throat and let out another whimper, wincing from the pain. I feel my hair being gently moved away from my face, baring my neck to the men hovering over me. I hear one of them gasp.
    “Son of a bitch! This wasn’t supposed to happen! I