Cut Too Deep

by Marissa Farrar

  “So where are you headed?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “Nowhere in particular. Just driving until somewhere catches my eye.”

  He glanced at her, his eyebrows lifted. “Seriously? You traveling or something?”

  “I guess you can say that. I just don’t like staying in one place, that’s all.” Her tone was curter than she’d meant it to be, and he shot her a look, his blue eyes slightly narrowed.

  “Anyway,” he said, as he swung the truck in a U-turn and headed back the way she’d just walked. “I’m Ryker.”

  “Jenna,” she said, with a smile, trying to make up for her coldness. This guy was offering to help her and she didn’t want to piss him off.

  “It’s good to meet you, Jenna. Nothing improves my day more than picking pretty girls up off the side of the road.”

  She laughed. “Yeah, right.” He was obviously hoping to get some work from her. He could hold off with the fake flattery. It wasn’t as if she had a whole heap of options.

  He pulled back onto the highway, and Jenna leaned over to point at her stalled Honda.

  “That’s the one.”

  Ryker pulled over. “Okay, wait here. I’ve got some tools in the back. I’ll go take a look. Have you got the keys?”

  She passed them over to him, and he gave her a grin and a wink. “I’m a magician with anything with an engine. I’ll get you back on the road in no time.”

  “Great, thanks,” she said, though her stomach dipped in disappointment. Had part of her been hoping she might get to spend a bit more time in Ryker’s company? She watched the muscles in his back move beneath his t-shirt, the heat causing the material to cling to his skin, as he ran at a slow jog to the other side of the road.

  He pulled up the hood and leaned over, her gaze focusing in on the worn material of his faded jeans over his ass. The tattoos and piercings weren’t the normal thing she went for—if there even was such a thing—but she had to admit the guy was well built.

  Jenna gave a sigh and flapped her face with her hand, wishing the old truck had air. The last thing she wanted was to appear a sweaty mess in front of Ryker, though she guessed the ship had already sailed on that front. Anyway, he was just looking for a job and at best had taken pity on the fat girl struggling down the side of the road.

  She glanced back over to find Ryker pulling himself out from beneath the bottom of her car. He brushed the dirt from his back and then glanced over to her. He caught her watching and gave his head a slight shake.

  Damn. What did that mean?

  Ryker checked for traffic and then ran back across the road. He threw his bag of tools in the back of the truck and climbed into the driver’s seat.

  He twisted to face her. “So, do you want the good news or the bad news?”

  “Err, bad news first?”

  “The bad news is that most of the exhaust has rusted away. I’m going to need to order in some parts and they’re probably going to cost you about six hundred dollars.”

  “Shit.” The car probably wasn’t even worth that much. “What’s the good news?”

  “The good news is that I can tow you to my garage and you get to spend a couple of days in Arlington while your car gets fixed.”

  “Awesome,” she said, her tone flat. Inside, her stomach churned with mixed emotions. She didn’t want to have to stay in one spot, especially not now, but the idea of getting to see Ryker again made something inside her flutter.

  Besides, she didn’t have much choice.

  She gave Ryker a smile. “Looks like you’re towing me then.”

  He grinned back. “And I’ll have to show you all Arlington’s main sights.”

  “It has sights?” she said, doubtful.

  His tone lowered. “Perhaps not, but I’m sure I can show you something.”

  A thrill coursed through her veins. Was he just offering to show her around town, or did his words hold the promise of something more?

  Chapter Two

  The garage where Ryker worked was situated on the outskirts of town.

  He maneuvered the truck and backed her car into the work bay, and then jumped out to unhook the tow bar. Jenna climbed out too, clutching her bags tightly and glancing around the garage. The acrid tang of oil hit her nostrils, fumes stinging her eyes.

  A guy in his thirties with a six-pack-of-beer-a-day gut appeared from out back.

  He must be Ryker’s boss, Jenna assumed.

  “Hey, I wondered where you’d gotten to.” The man waved a cell phone at Ryker. “You forgot to take this with you again.”

  Ryker patted down his jeans pockets, as if expecting an identical phone to suddenly appear, and shook his head at himself. “Damn it. I think I have an aversion to those things.”

  “Yeah, well, you need to remember them. I’ve had the school trying to get hold of you. They need you to go down there.”

  “What’s Mikey been up to now?”

  The big guy shrugged. “They didn’t say, but my guess would be fighting again.”

  “Damn it.”

  Mikey? School? Did Ryker have a son? Her heart dipped in disappointment. She guessed he was old enough. She assumed that meant he also had a girlfriend or wife at home, too. She hadn’t thought to check for a ring, but he appeared to be the modern type who wouldn’t necessarily be wearing one. Plus, she thought he’d been flirting with her. While she was under no illusions that he might actually have thought she was attractive—he’d probably just pitied her—that still made him a bit of an asshole. Shame. She desperately hadn’t wanted to think he was an asshole.

  Ryker seemed to remember Jenna standing there. “Oh, this is Jenna …?”

  “Armstrong,” she filled in.

  “Jenna Armstrong,” he said the words slowly, as if testing the way her name felt in his mouth. He turned his attention back to the other guy. “Jenna’s car broke down, but it’s going to need some parts. I noted them down. Can you order them in for me while I go check out what sort of shit Mikey has pulled this time?”

  “Sure, Ryker,” the other guy said, taking the slip of paper from him and handing Ryker the cell. “No problem.”

  “Thanks, Sam.” He turned back to Jenna. “I just need some details from you, and then I’ll drop you in town. Okay?”

  She nodded her agreement and followed him to a small counter at the back of the garage. A till sat on the surface, together with a small bell for customers to hit when they needed service. Her eyes flicked to the tasteful classic cars calendar hanging on the wall behind the counter, her gaze zooming in on one little square box. Her heart picked up pace, her stomach lurching in a flip-flop. The sight of that particular date made her sick with dread. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. Only three days now. She needed to be on the move before that date. It was too dangerous to stay in one place for too long, especially then.

  Ryker moved around to the other side and pulled a short form out from beneath the counter. He handed it to her, together with a pen, and she set about filling in some details. She paused at where it asked her to put her address.

  “Umm, what if I don’t have a current address?”

  He gave her that narrow-eyed look again, as if he were trying to figure her out. “Just put ‘Arlington.’ I’ll know where to find you.”

  “You will?”

  She didn’t know where she was going to find herself, so his comment made her both doubtful and suspicious.

  He laughed. “Well, unless you’re planning on camping down in the back of the shop here, I’m going to assume I’m taking you to a motel.”

  Her cheeks heated. “Oh, right. Yes, that would be great. Thank you.”

  She finished the form and handed it back to him. He stashed it beneath the counter and held out his hand.

  She hesitated. “You need payment already?”

  He shook his head. “Nah, I need the keys. You took them back, remember?”

  Her cheeks heated again and she ducked her head, fishing in her purse for her keys
. Damn, how did this guy manage to make her feel like an idiot at every turn? She fished out the keys, and then dipped her hand back into her purse and took out one of the antibacterial wipes from the open packet she kept in there. She’d touched the inside of the truck door, plus the pen, which God-knew how many other people had handled. Hoping he wouldn’t notice, she wiped her hands clean and then crumpled up the moist wipe. Desperately, she wanted to dispose of the wipe, but she had no way of doing so without Ryker noticing. Instead, she squashed it into the corner of her purse, trying not to think about all of the germs that might be crawling off the thin material and dispersing among her personal belongings.

  She tried not to let the idea make her hyperventilate.

  Unaware of her discomfort, Ryker moved around the counter and headed back toward his truck. He glanced over his shoulder at her. “You coming?”

  Jenna nodded, but before following him, she pulled the wipe back out of her purse and left it on the counter. She felt bad for littering, but figured a panic attack would be worse.

  Ryker waited by the truck.

  She remembered something. “Hey, I know I’m being difficult, but I have a few things in my car I need to bring with me. Do you mind giving me a hand?”

  He nodded and gave a shrug. “No problem.”

  Ryker opened the car for her, and she scraped together the worst of her clothes from the back seat. She shrank inside as she hooked one of her bras from the headrest and quickly stuffed it in one of the two big hold-alls she carted her property around in. Normally, when she moved from place to place, she packed in a regimented way, with each layer of clothing folded in such a way that it wouldn’t make contact with any dirty layers, but for once she made herself forgo her obsessive behavior. She didn’t have time for that with Ryker standing over her. Anyway, she wouldn’t need all of her clothes, but she didn’t like the idea of them all being left on display like this.

  With her things collected, Ryker bent to haul one of the bags, while she lifted the other one.

  He reached out and took the second bag from her. “Hey, let me.”

  He lifted both bags and she tried not to appreciate the way his muscles bulged beneath his tattoos. The tattoos were all works of art, and ended at his wrists. Her eyes tried to distinguish each individual picture, though they were done in such a way the shapes and shading all blended into one image. There were some traditional elements—a rose, a skull, a pin-up girl—but joining them all were swirls of what could have been either waves or fire. The tattoos were beautifully done. While she didn’t have any herself, she appreciated why they were considered art.

  He caught her staring and grinned as he threw her bags into the back of the truck. “They’re my one permanent thing,” he said.

  “What do you mean?”

  He shrugged. “Everything else in life changes or ends. These babies won’t be going anywhere until the day I die.”

  She wondered what else in his life had changed, but didn’t want to pry. They both climbed in the truck and Ryker started the vehicle back up. He pulled away from the garage and they continued the drive on the road into town.

  “So your boss doesn’t mind you taking off like this in the middle of the day?” she said, changing the subject.

  Ryker frowned at her. “My boss?”

  “Yeah, the guy back there—Sam?”

  He laughed. “Sam’s not my boss. That’s my garage. Or at least, it was my dad’s garage, and he passed it on to me.”

  “Why? Did he have a change in careers or something?”

  “Nah, he died.”

  “Oh, shit. Sorry.”

  She shifted awkwardly in her seat, not knowing what else to say. Part of her wanted to tell him how her mom had died when she’d been young too, and that she’d never known her dad. But she wasn’t one for sharing, especially not now. She even regretted giving him her last name back at the garage, but he’d have wanted to see her papers for the car anyway. The less he knew about her, the better.

  Before long, they were headed toward town, Jenna peering out of the window at the place that would become her home for the next couple of days. So far, Arlington appeared like most small towns in middle America—neat homes and the occasional park, gradually becoming more built up the closer into the center they got.

  “Hey, do you mind if we stop in at the school quickly? It’s on the way, and I really have to check out what Mikey has been up to now.”

  She tried to keep her tone light. “Oh, is Mikey your son?”

  He turned to her like she was crazy. “Son? Do I really look that old? Jeez, don’t tell me I’m losing my hair.”

  She laughed. “No, you have plenty of hair. I just assumed, I guess. I seem to be doing that a lot with you. Sorry.”

  “Mikey is my little brother. I kinda take care of him.”

  “You do?” She remembered what he’d said about his dad dying. “What about your mom?”

  “Dad raised us. It was a household of males. My mom left when my brother was only small. Said she’d had enough of giving to everyone else all the time. Wanted her life back.”

  “That’s horrible. I’m so sorry.”

  He shrugged. “We managed okay with just my dad. But then he died and no one knew where to find my mom, so it was just me. I’d turned eighteen at the time, and my dad had left me the business, so I had a way to support us. It was pretty unusual, but with no other family, the courts decided we were better off staying at home, with regular checks, of course.”

  Jenna appraised him with new eyes. He was surprising her every minute she spoke to him. “Wow, that must have been so hard on you. So much responsibility from such a young age.”

  “I did all right. My brother was only seven at the time, though. It hit him hard and he’s still struggling now, even though he’s almost fifteen. He acts out, you know, but who can blame him after everything he’s been through.”

  They pulled up outside the school—a red brick building with a playing field out front—to see a boy with spiked hair, a leather jacket, and ripped jeans running down the path. A woman in a suit stood outside the school building, shouting and gesticulating at the boy. The boy threw up his hands, flipped her the bird, and kept coming.

  Ryker glanced over at her. “I think you’re about to meet Mikey.”

  Chapter Three

  “That woman is a total bitch!”

  Mikey climbed into the back of Ryker’s truck and sat with his arms folded, a scowl plastered on his face.

  “Jesus, Mikey. What the hell have you been doing now?”

  The scowl deepened. “Ugh. Nothing. All the teachers have a stick up their asses, that’s all.”

  “And let me guess, you told them so much.”

  “Yeah, well. Mr. Norton wouldn’t let me play a YouTube clip in class, even though we were discussing the exploitation of youth culture. Apparently, someone face planting on a skateboard for people’s entertainment doesn’t count.”

  Ryker sighed. “I need to go and talk to your principal. It looks like she’s waiting for me.”

  He shrugged. “Yeah, whatever.” Then the boy leaned forward. “Who’s the broad?”

  “This is Jenna. I’m giving her a ride.”

  “Like on a bus,” Mikey snorted, his eyes flicking over her body.

  “Watch your mouth,” Ryker snapped.

  Jenna wanted to vanish into the seat. “It’s okay,” she muttered. “I think the principal is waiting for you.”

  “Wait here,” he said, though Jenna wasn’t sure if he was talking to her or his brother. He climbed from the car and she watched his back as he walked up the path to the waiting principal. Jenna noted the way the woman’s eyes flicked to Ryker’s exposed tattoos and piercings, her lips thinning. Though Jenna couldn’t understand what was being said, she could tell from the woman’s body language that she wasn’t happy while Ryker tried to placate her.

  She twisted in her seat to where Mikey sat, fiddling with his cell phone. She hesitated, torn
between making awkward, uncomfortable conversation with a teenage boy, and sitting in silence.

  “So you don’t like school much, huh?”

  She’d never been one for uncomfortable silences.

  He jerked his head up and regarded her with the sort of disdain only a teenager could manage. “What?”

  “I said it doesn’t look like you enjoy school much.”

  His lower lip curled. “Only the popular kids like school. The rest of us are only here for their entertainment.”

  Jenna knew exactly how that felt. She’d been big since she was a child, and high school had been excruciating for her. Everything she’d done had been fodder for the popular kids to pick on. Gym class had been her idea of hell, being forced to run around until she got hot and sweaty, while everyone else remained immaculate. She’d not wanted to eat at school, knowing every mouthful would be scrutinized. The pretty girls would sit in the dining hall, watching her eat. They’d nudge elbows into each other’s ribs, laughing behind their perfect, slim hands. The guys were almost as bad. One time, they’d all emptied their half eaten food trays onto hers, telling her it was feeding time at the pigsty and that the food was her swill. In the end, she’d stopped eating at school altogether, which meant she’d never been able to concentrate in her classes, and then she’d come home and binge on all the junk food she could find in the house. Eating until she made herself sick. Luckily, she’d been smart enough to pass her exams, but if she’d been eating properly, she probably would have excelled.

  Ryker was making his way back to the truck. His expression was dark, his eyes hard, his jaw tight. He climbed in and slammed the door shut, before turning back to his little brother.

  “Principal Heller says you were told not to use your cell phone in class, and when you refused, you swore at the teacher, threw your table across the classroom, narrowly missing several of the other kids, and then stormed out.”