Tears pricked her eyes. “You son of a bitch.”
He leaned down, breathing stale cigarette and beer breath into her face, making her lean away as much as she could. “Yeah, and don’t I know it. I’m your worst fucking nightmare, baby.”
Jenna pressed her lips together, pushing herself away from him.
He straightened and stared at her, his eyes narrowed, as if he hated her, as if she’d done this to herself purely to get him put away. In fact, she wondered if somehow in his twisted mind that was exactly what he believed.
“They made out in court like you were pretty badly cut up after the accident,” he said, that same snide sneer on his face.
She turned her face, not wanting to look at him anymore. “You know I was. You were there.”
No response came back, and she forced herself to glance back at him, needing to know what he was doing. Garrett just stood there, staring at her, his head tilted to one side. His hair was shorter than it had been back then, cut so short now she could make out his bumpy, pale scalp beneath. He lifted his hand to his chin, and rubbed his mouth thoughtfully.
“So you must have been messed up pretty bad. I bet that ugly body of yours looks even worse now.”
“I’ve learned to accept who I am,” she said, trying to be brave. But even as she said the words, she realized they were, at least in part, true. Ryker had helped her do that. Over the last couple of days, she realized she hadn’t hated herself as much as she had for the past year, and even for the years that preceded the accident. She hadn’t taken time to stare at herself in the mirror, and lift her flesh and imagine what she’d look like with all the hateful rolls cut from her body. She hadn’t flinched when Ryker had touched her, hell, she’d loved it when he touched her, loved it more than anything else in the world. Over the past few days she hadn’t punished herself or rewarded herself with food, she’d simply eaten and enjoyed meals that Ryker had cooked for her. She’d even enjoyed sitting down and eating with Mikey sullen and ignoring them. It had felt normal. It had felt real. It had felt like she was finally living her life.
But Garrett seemed intent on destroying every last shred of confidence she had gained. He walked over to her and leaned over her. “Let’s see, then.”
She startled back, shock resonating through her. “What?”
“You heard me. I want to see how badly you got cut up. I think that’s my right considering I just did time for you.”
He dropped to a crouch, and reached out to her. She tried to scoot away, but her back collided with the counter, blocking her escape. Her arms were bound behind her back, and she was sitting on her feet, and had been for so long, they’d completely gone to sleep. She had no way of defending herself.
Garrett grasped the bottom of her t-shirt and yanked it up, revealing her stomach and bra. He stared down at her body, his eyebrows raised. “Jesus Christ. You really are a fucking mess, aren’t you?”
“Get the fuck off me!” She tried to yank herself backward, to pull out of his grip, but it was useless. She had nowhere to go.
With his other hand, he reached down to her stomach and poked at the raised, thick red and white scars that ran from below her navel, right around her waist and back. The poking became more as he pinched the scarred flesh between his fingers and squeezed.
Pain shot up through her torso. “Get off me!” she tried again, but now her voice was choked with tears. “Just leave me alone.”
He leaned in closer and spoke against her ear. “No fucking way.”
His touch was cold, his fingers hard against her skin. He left her scars alone and took hold of one of the rolls of fat around her middle and gripped it in his hand, and laughed. “Look at this. Talk about pinch an inch, this is more like grab a yard. Jesus, Jenna, how did you ever let yourself get in such a state?”
He grabbed her flesh some more, rolling the fat between his palms and fingertips. His breathing grew ragged and fresh fear rolled through her. One hand still held the t-shirt up, while the other hand moved higher, massaging and squeezing her rolls of flesh until he reached her breasts. She choked back a sob, praying he wasn’t going to touch her there, but he did.
Garrett moved his hand over the top of her left breast and squeezed hard, hurting her. “People always say more than a handful is a waste, but I always did like your fat, juicy tits, Jenna. I like a pair I can bury my face in.”
She wrenched her body away again, the best she could. “Fuck you. I can’t believe I ever let you touch me.”
He lifted his eyes to her. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll be touching you all over again, and you’re going to love it.”
“You make me sick.”
He took hold of the lace cup of her bra and yanked it sharply down, tearing the material and exposing her breast. One lip lifted in a snarl of disdain. “You’re going to love it, baby, or I’m going to cut your pretty tits off.”
With that, he took hold of her naked breast. She wanted to cry at the contact, his palm cold and clammy against her skin, and then he placed the tips of his fingers around her nipple and squeezed hard, digging the ellipses of his nails into her sensitive flesh.
Pain speared through her, and she cried out, her back arching, a tear spilling down her cheek.
“You ain’t felt nothing yet.”
He let go of her t-shirt and the material fell back down, covering her at least, though his hand was still up her top, cupping her breast. He reached down, pushing his fingers below the waistband of her sweatpants.
Oh, no, no. God, no. Anything but this ...
The idea of him inside her made her want to wrench her mind from reality. But she couldn’t do that. She couldn’t just lie there and let him rape her. She needed to fight back.
He was so close to her now, their faces separated by a foot of space. He watched her expression for her reaction as he fondled her breast with one hand and moved his other hand lower.
Anger and humiliation built as a tight coil deep inside of her, and as his fingers pushed roughly into her panties and raked through her pubic hair, the coil sprung free and Jenna reacted.
She lunged forward, smashing her forehead against Garrett’s nose. She heard a crunch, and white light exploded behind her eyeballs, lightning flickering in front of her eyes, her already sore head now throbbing with new pain.
But Garrett’s hands were no longer on her body. Instead, he held them over his nose as blood dripped through his fingers and onto his shirt. He lifted his cold, gray eyes to hers, fury blazing in them.
“You fucking bitch.”
He reached out and slapped her hard across her face. Her head rocked back, feeling like she was going to suffer from whiplash. Garrett wiped the blood beneath his nose away with the back of his hand, though he only succeeded in smearing it across his cheek, making him appear even crazier.
He reached down to his belt. “I was going to take my time with you, but now I think I’m just going to make you pay.”
“No! Please!”
But there was nothing more she could do. The garage tilted as the head blow she’d suffered made her dizzy, and with her arms bound, she was helpless.
“You’re going to pay, and I’m going to love every second.”
Sudden banging shocked them into silence.
Garrett froze, and Jenna’s heart leaped with hope. The banging came from the rolled down metal door. Was someone here to save her? Did someone know about Garrett? Was Ryker finally here?
Instantly, his hands dropped from his pants, and he lunged for her, covering her mouth with his palm. It was sticky with his blood, and stank of sweat, making her want to gag.
“Don’t make a fucking sound,” he hissed at her.
A voice came, distant and muted from outside. Jenna’s stomach dipped in disappointment as she realized the voice didn’t belong to Ryker. “Hey! Anyone in there? Ryker? Sam?”
Footsteps walked from one side to the next. “Hello? Are you guys open?” Then he muttered, “Wasn’t much point in me m
aking a damned appointment, then.”
Jenna tried to shout against Garrett’s palm, desperate to give the person some idea that someone was in here, but her yell came out as a muffled moan. Garrett clamped his hand even harder, blocking her nostrils as well and making it hard to breathe.
Help me, she cried in her mind, praying the person outside would hear something or notice something was wrong. Please, help me.
A shrill ringing suddenly sounded from behind the counter she was propped up against, making her jump. Garrett had the same reaction and they both turned toward the sound. The phone for the garage was ringing.
Jenna stared in its direction, mentally noting its location in case the opportunity arose where she might get to the phone before Garrett and call for help.
The phone rang a couple more times, and then an answering machine clicked in.
The sound of Ryker’s voice filled the room, and Jenna’s heart swelled with a mixture of love and remorse. “Hey, you’ve reached Russo’s Garage. Sorry no one is here to take your call right now, but leave us a message and we’ll get back to you.”
The machine beeped and the person outside began to speak, so they could hear the voices in stereo. “Hey, Ryker. It’s Murry Swain. I have my car scheduled with you guys today, but I’m here and the place is locked up. Can you call me back and let me know what’s going on?”
Jenna wanted to cry. She’d been so stupid, leaving Ryker. He was the best thing she’d ever had, and she’d walked out on him because he’d lied to keep her. Garrett would have found her eventually, wherever she was. Had she been using Garrett as an excuse this whole time so she could protect her heart? Had she subconsciously been running because she was terrified of another man hurting her? She wished she could go back and react differently that morning. She wished they’d sat down and talked about things instead of her running away. Now she was probably going to be raped and murdered, and she would never get a chance to see his face again or tell him that she loved him.
Footsteps walked away from the garage door, and the car engine neither of them had noticed before started up and pulled away, growing fainter.
Something—perhaps her dying hope—settled like a rotten lump in the pit of her stomach.
Her chance at help had driven away.
Chapter Twenty-one
Slowly, Garrett removed his hand from her mouth. The dry skin on her lips clung to his fingers as he pulled them away, as if they’d somehow bonded during the last few minutes.
Jenna spat on the floor, trying to get the residual taste of Garrett’s blood and sweat out of her mouth. It could be worse. It could be the taste of her own blood she was trying to rid herself of. So far, other than a bruised, swollen face, a sore neck, and a torn bra, she’d managed to go unharmed. Unlike the poor, innocent man whose body lay behind her.
“Good thing that guy didn’t get in here,” Garrett said, glancing back toward the garage door, “or the bodies would start to pile up.”
Jenna glanced longingly toward the entrance, praying someone else would come—someone able to handle themselves around Garrett and who could rip him to pieces. She didn’t want to give up. She still held out hope that someone would help her.
Where is Ryker?
Why hadn’t he come after her? Even if he wasn’t going to chase her and beg her to come home, surely he would have come to the garage by now, if only to get on with some work. It didn’t make sense for him to be staying away.
“That guy is bound to try Ryker’s cell phone,” she said. “If he can’t get hold of him here, it’s going to be the next number he tries. As soon as Ryker figures out that something is wrong, he’ll be here to kick your ass.”
Garrett’s eyes narrowed. “Who is this Ryker guy?”
She jerked up. “Huh?” She’d thought Garrett knew exactly who Ryker was.
“Your boyfriend’s name is Ryker?” He hazarded a guess, but confusion tainted his tone. “I thought pretty boy’s name was Michael?”
Jenna realized the reason for Garrett’s mistake. Of course! Everything Garrett knew was going on what he’d tracked down online. If Mikey had ordered goods to be delivered to him, he’d have used his own name, not Ryker’s, though Jenna wondered how the kid ever thought he wouldn’t get caught. Typical teenager, acting without considering the consequences.
Jenna thought quickly. “Ryker hates the name Michael. He goes by his mother’s maiden name.”
Garrett’s lips thinned, his eyes still narrowed as he stared at Jenna, trying to figure out what was up with her comment. Then he relaxed and gave a shrug. “Yeah, well, I didn’t exactly ask his name before I hit him across the back of the head with a two-by-four. The last I checked, your boy was pretty damn dead, so don’t go getting your hopes up that he’s going to answer his cell phone anytime soon.”
The world tilted on its axis and she felt herself slide off. She blinked and gave herself a shake. Weirdly, she felt empty inside, hollow and devoid of emotions.
She found her voice and whispered, “I don’t believe you.”
It was as if this news had forced her to detach from her emotions. Where she thought she’d be wailing and tearing her hair out with her hands—if her arms weren’t bound—instead she felt numb and disbelieving.
“Believe it, sweetheart. I wasn’t going to let him race to your rescue.”
She shook her head, a motion she didn’t seem to be able to stop. “No, no, no, no.”
All she could think of was that she wanted to go to Ryker. She couldn’t believe he was dead, and she would never believe it unless she saw his body, though the thought made her want to reach inside her chest and rip out her heart. This was what she’d feared all along, and she’d been right to. Ryker had been hurt because of her.
She pulled together all of her bravado. “I don’t believe you could have harmed my boyfriend,” she said, drawing herself up as much as she could, bound as she was. “He’s got fifty pounds of muscle on you, and he’s got more guts in his little finger than you have in your whole body. He’d squash you like a bug!”
“What, you think that tattooed pretty boy would have got the better of me?”
She almost laughed at the idea of Ryker being a pretty boy, but his description made Jenna realize Garrett had at least seen Ryker.
Garrett held his hands out either side of his body. “By the fact I’m here and he isn’t, that clearly didn’t happen.”
“Why would you leave his body at the house for someone to find? You could have brought his body here to really upset me.”
Garrett frowned, his nose wrinkling. “Why do you care so much about this guy anyway? He used your credit card to buy himself stuff. Doesn’t that make you think perhaps he’s not the great guy he’s made out to be?” He shook his head in disgust. “That’s the trouble with you bitches. You think with your cunts first. Some guy shows you a bit of attention and there you are, swooning all over him, even when you know he’s using you.” He stopped, his hands on his hips and then gestured out toward her, motioning up and down her body. “I mean, seriously, Jenna, look at yourself. You’re even fatter than you were a year ago, and you were a fucking porker back then. You can’t actually believe the guy genuinely liked you. He stole off you, and probably figured you were just something warm and wet to stick his cock into.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, but her brain was whirring. Garrett thought Ryker and Mikey were the same person. Did that mean Garrett didn’t know about Mikey’s existence?
“Say what you like about him,” Jenna said. “I don’t believe for one second that you’ve done anything to him. You talk about me being fat, but you’re hardly some muscle-bound tough guy, are you? You’re a computer nerd, at the end of the day. A skinny, weak man who happens to be a bully and who likes picking on women. You don’t have the guts to take on someone like Ryker!”
She knew winding up Garrett might be dangerous, but she needed to get to Ryker. She needed to know. What if he was
hurt and there was something she could do? If she didn’t get Garrett to show her Ryker’s body, then she would probably die here in this garage without ever really knowing what had happened to him. And then there was Mikey. What would happen when he got home and found his brother’s body? She couldn’t stand the idea of the kid being the one to find him. Mikey would still be at school for a couple of hours yet. If she could get Garrett to fetch Ryker’s body, she would save the boy the torment of that experience, though it broke her heart to think of Mikey trying to get by with no family in the world. She knew what it was like to be alone, and it hurt.
She watched the color drain from Garrett’s already pale face.
“You’re no woman,” he snarled, pointing his finger at her. “You’re a fat, fucking pig. And I already told you I took out your thieving boyfriend with one hit. Why do you think he hasn’t come after you? I found a fence post beside the house where I was hiding, and I listened to the conversation your boyfriend had with the dead guy over there, and watched the dead guy leave. And lo and behold, fifteen minutes later, there you are, blowing everything out of proportion like you normally do, yelling and making a scene on the guy’s front porch. I watched you then, too. I watched you storm off down the street. I already knew exactly where you planned on going from your argument, so I figured I’d catch up with you here at the garage. He came right after you, you know. Probably to beg you to come back for some stupid reason, but the second he stepped out of the front door, I swung the post and smacked him across the side of the head. Poor bastard didn’t even see it coming. He went down, crumpled like a bag of laundry, so I just dragged him into the hallway so none of the neighbors would notice his body and then drove straight here to wait for you. I knew you didn’t have a car, but hell, Jenna,” he shook his head in disgust, “you are seriously out of shape. I had plenty of time to kill the other guy, and then I just waited. At one point I wondered if I’d made a mistake, and that you’d changed your mind and gone back to him, but I know how fucking stubborn you can be. Once your mind is made up, you’re not changing it. And I was right. You showed up, and here we are.”
Cut Too Deep Page 16