His face took on that customary blaze of rage. His nostrils flared, eyes widened, face burning. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Her heart tripped in her chest, her eyes flicking between the shiny blade in Garrett’s hand and the face of the man she loved in the chair right behind him. Please wake up, Ryker, she willed again. But it didn’t look like that was going to happen. She couldn’t rely on someone else to save her. She needed to save herself.
Jenna took a step away from Garrett as he approached her, blade out held. The backs of her knees bumped into the bed and her heels hit something hard which rolled away and then rolled back again. She glanced down briefly to see the baseball bat Ryker had used to chase Garrett from the house the previous night. He must have not bothered to put it back in the closet—or else instinctively had kept it under the bed, but still within reach, just in case Garrett came back.
Which he had.
Quickly, she looked away from the bat, not wanting Garrett to notice the item, and kept her eyes locked on the knife in his hand. Could she wrestle it off him? She didn’t want to risk getting herself stabbed, but she had to do something.
“Get on the bed, Jenna,” he snarled.
She shook her head. “No.”
“Do as I say, or I’ll put this knife against your throat, and take you like that.”
She held up her hands. “Okay, okay.” Her voice trembled.
Could she reach down and grab the bat?
She got onto the bed, her back against the headboard. Garrett climbed on as well, facing her, his back to Ryker. He still held the knife in one hand, and yanked at his belt buckle with the other. He managed to get the belt undone one handed, but then fumbled with the button of his jeans. He glanced away from her just long enough to look down at what he was doing.
Jenna took her opportunity. With a scream of fury, she threw herself at the arm holding the knife. Garrett glanced up and reacted by pulling his arm back, but he wasn’t quick enough. Both of Jenna’s hands closed around his fingers and she put her whole body weight into the movement so she pulled him down onto his side, his hand and the knife pressed against the mattress.
She cried out, “Let go, you piece of shit!”
She wished they were on the floor, so she could have lifted his hand again and smashed his knuckles down on something hard in order for him to let go, but the mattress was soft and yielding beneath them. She tried to pull at his fingers, to loosen them around the handle, but his grip was strong.
Then his hand was in her hair, knotting his fingers through her dark locks and pulling tight. White hot pain bloomed through her scalp, making her eyes water, as he yanked her head backward, exposing her throat to the ceiling. He yanked again, harder this time, and she knew he would have thick strands of hair around his fingers, probably together with a little of her skin, when he eventually let go. She had no choice but to let go of his hand and the knife. Automatically, her hands went to her head, trying to protect her hair and lessen the pain shooting through her head.
He pulled her backward onto the bed, their positions reversed, so he eclipsed the ceiling above her. He pressed the knife to her throat, the metal cold and sharp against her skin, and she gave a small cry of fear.
“That was really fucking stupid, Jenna,” he spat. “I hope you know that. You’re making me do this to you now. I hadn’t planned for it to be this way. But if I have to fuck you while I’m holding a knife to your throat, and maybe even cutting you a little while I do so, it’s your own fucking fault.”
“Please, Garrett. Just leave me alone. All I ever wanted was to be left alone!” She hated the whining, pleading tone her voice had taken on, but she couldn’t help it. That was what he’d reduced her to, her begging for her life.
“That’s it, Jenna. Beg for it. I want to hear you begging.” He lowered his mouth to her ear and spoke softly. “It makes me hot.”
Jenna choked back a sob.
With the knife still against her skin, Garrett set back to ridding himself of his pants. Jenna’s gaze flicked over his shoulder to where they’d left Ryker, and her heart stopped.
Ryker’s eyes were open.
They locked gazes. He didn’t seem to have any of the doziness she’d seen before. She flicked her eyes downward, trying to get him to notice the baseball bat just beneath the bed. His eyes followed the line of her gaze, noting the bat, and he gave her the briefest of nods. Her heart hitched in hope.
Quickly she moved her attention back to Garrett, who had now managed to get his jeans open and was reaching down to pull off her pants. She didn’t want him to notice Ryker awake and now cautiously lifting himself off the chair to go for the baseball bat.
Suddenly, the sound of the front door opening came and a voice called out, “Hey, Ryker. Who the hell owns the flash car parked out front?”
Jenna and Ryker’s eyes connected again, panic mirrored in them both.
Oh shit. Mikey was home.
Chapter Twenty-four
“Who the fuck is that?”
Garrett turned toward the bedroom door, his attention drawn by the voice and sound of movement from downstairs.
Jenna looked at Ryker, who had frozen in his actions, her eyes wide, trying to get an idea of what they were supposed to do now. Neither of them wanted Mikey to come up here and get mixed up in this mess.
Garrett glanced back at Jenna and caught her staring toward Ryker. He turned to look over his shoulder...
Ryker exploded out of the chair, launching himself at Garrett. But Garrett was fast. Jenna opened her mouth to yell a warning to Mikey, but Garrett was already on her, his hand clamping over her mouth, preventing the sound from coming out. The cold, sharp edge of the knife was against her throat and he dragged her off the bed, using the bed as a barrier between them and Ryker.
Ryker glared at Garrett, his blue eyes dark with fury. “You let her go!”
Garrett pressed the blade harder against her throat. “If you make a single move, I’ll cut her open.”
Ryker leaned back slightly and lifted both hands in defense. “No one is doing anything.”
Mikey’s voice came from downstairs again. “Hey, bro? Are you in?”
“Who the hell is that?” Garrett hissed. “I’d locked all the doors. No one should have been able to get in here.”
Ryker kept his hands raised. “That’s my little brother, Mikey. He has nothing to do with this.”
Garrett frowned. “Mikey? I thought you were Michael?”
It was Ryker’s turn to frown. “Why would you think that?”
“Because you used her credit card. That’s how I found Jenna.” Realization dawned on Garrett’s face and he nodded in understanding. “Oh, it was your little brother who stole her credit card. I get it. She didn’t want me to know someone else was involved.” He gave Jenna a shake and she cried out in fear. “Lying to me, huh? For what? To protect some kid you hardly know.”
Ryker’s eyes locked with hers, communicating with her via eye-contact alone. Thank you, he said to her. Thank you for trying to keep Mikey out of this.
Only now Mikey was downstairs,
She saw Ryker glance at the door again, trying to figure out where Mikey was now. Had the boy settled himself somewhere downstairs, possibly plugged himself into his computer game, oblivious that there was even anyone else in the house? But he’d seen Ryker’s truck, and Garrett’s stolen vehicle as well. He obviously hadn’t bothered to try and peer too hard through the blacked out windows, or he would have spotted the neighbor’s body wedged on the floor.
Jenna looked over at Ryker again. What now? If he tried anything, Garrett would hurt her.
Would Ryker put Mikey’s safety before her own? Yes, she decided, that’s exactly what he needed to do. What they both needed to do. Ryker somehow had to get Mikey out of the house.
Ryker kept his voice calm and level. “Listen to me. All you have to do is let go of Jenna, and then we can all walk back downstairs. Jenna and I will go
to Mikey, and you can get the hell out of here. We won’t say anything. Just go.”
Garrett barked laughter. “You think I’m just going to walk away from this? I’ve been waiting a whole year for this day.”
Tears of frustration and anger blurred Jenna’s vision. She needed to do something! Garrett was distracted by Ryker and Mikey. He wasn’t paying any attention to her. But the knife was still against her throat, his hand over her mouth. She was barefooted, so couldn’t do much harm by trying to kick him or stamp on his foot. There was only one option left, and she hoped the injury she had already caused him would work in her favor.
She couldn’t let herself think about it too much or she would lose her nerve.
Reacting with as much force as she could muster, Jenna flung her head back. The back of her skull connected with Garrett’s already damaged nose and he let out a scream that sounded like an injured animal. The sound frightened her, but she didn’t give herself time to wonder how badly he’d been injured. His hand had already fallen from her mouth to cover his nose, and she used both hands to shove away the arm holding the knife.
“Ryker!” she yelled. “Get the bat!”
But then she heard Mikey’s voice. “Ryker? Are you up there? What the hell’s going on?”
“Run, Mikey!” she screamed. “Get out of the house.”
Garrett had started to recover himself. She hesitated with indecision. Should she try to get the knife, or run to warn Mikey? Ryker ran toward the bed, heading for the baseball bat, so she made her choice and ran.
Jenna burst out of the bedroom door and into the hallway to see Mikey running up the stairs. He caught sight of her and frowned. “What’s going on?”
“Turn around, Mikey. Get out of here, please!”
“Why? Where’s my brother?”
A yell of pain sounded from the room and they both turned toward the noise.
Oh, God. That had sounded like Ryker!
Mikey must have thought the same. He shoved past her, shooting her a final confused glare, and ran for the bedroom.
“No, Mikey, wait!”
But she couldn’t stop him. She grabbed for his arm, but he was young and strong and he tugged out of her grip. He ran into the bedroom and she followed.
Her heart stopped.
Ryker lay on the floor, the baseball bat beside him. He clutched his arm to his body, the whole of his forearm covered red. The blood spread across his shirt where he clutched his arm to his chest. Her eyes flicked to Garrett standing above him, to the red smeared across the silver of the blade, and her mind pieced together what had happened. Ryker had gone for the bat, reached out for the weapon, and Garrett had dived at him with the knife, slicing his forearm open. From the limp way Ryker’s hand fell, Jenna had a horrible feeling Garrett may have sliced through nerves and tendons.
“Oh, God, Ryker,” she cried.
Garrett brandished the knife, blood coating the lower half of his face from where she’d re-broken his nose. “See what I did to your pretty boy, Jenna? And I’ll do the same to his baby brother, only worse.” His voice sounded nasal, as if he had a really bad cold.
Mikey turned to run from the room, but Garrett reached out and grabbed him. Jenna launched herself at him, no longer caring about the knife. “Just kill me, you son of a bitch! I’m the one you want. Ryker and Mikey have nothing to do with this!”
But he’d already caught Mikey by the arm, twisting it behind his back and holding the boy firm. He must have used his time in jail to build his physical strength and learn how to incapacitate people. The person Garrett had been before he did time had been cruel and conniving, but the man who’d come out was terrifying.
“Let go of me, you fucker!” Mikey cried.
“Shut it, kid, or I’ll cut out your tongue.”
“Leave him alone!” Jenna screamed. “Kill me! I’m who you want, not some kid you’ve never met. Kill me, you cowardly piece of shit.”
He wheeled around, brandishing the knife. “Shut your mouth, Jenna, or you’ll feel this blade in your chest.”
She stepped toward him, and put out her arms either side of her body. “Fine. Do it.” She hit herself between her breasts. “Right here! What are you waiting for?”
Ryker shifted, cradling his arm. “Jenna, no...”
She glanced down at him. “It’s okay, Ryker.”
“No, it isn’t!” snarled Garrett. “None of you will be leaving the house alive. Got it?”
“So why haven’t you killed any of us yet?” she demanded. “You’ve had plenty of opportunity. You killed the other two men without flinching.” She sensed Ryker’s eyes flick to her with horror. Who had he killed, she knew Ryker was thinking. She didn’t think this was the time to tell him Sam was dead. “So why haven’t you killed us already?”
He jabbed the knife toward her. “Because I’m having my fun,” he told her. “I’m taking my time.”
“No. There’s more to it.”
She pressed her lips together, her jaw tight. Anger escaladed inside her. How dare he do this to her? After everything she’d been through, what gave him the right to come back into her life just when everything was going well and destroy it for her again? Why did she mean so much to him?
Something dawned on her, and the tension seeped from her body. Slowly, she shook her head. “I don’t think you want to kill me. Do you still have feelings for me, Garrett? Is that what this is all about? Maybe it’s not love, but it’s something—an entitlement or an ownership perhaps? I don’t think you thought you’d end up in an accident that night. It was a stupid decision, but it was one that almost got me killed and landed you in jail. You can blame me if you want, but I never wanted you to get in that car.”
Garrett’s face was pale and taut. “Don’t push me, Jenna. I’ll kill you if I want to. I’ve killed those others, so don’t believe for one second that I’m not capable of it.”
“Oh, I know you’re capable, which is the exact reason I don’t think you want me dead. You’ve had plenty of opportunity yet you’ve followed my suggestions and done as I asked, and I’m still alive.”
He let go of Mikey and charged forward to tower over her, his face in hers. His putrid breath washed over her as he tried to intimidate her, but she held her breath and stayed stock-still. “I could kill you if I wanted to!”
“Do it then. Let the other two go, and get it over with. You know you’re going back to jail after this Garrett. There’s no point in taking anyone else down with us.”
From the corner of her eye, she saw Ryker catch Mikey’s eye and jerk his chin toward the baseball bat still lying half under the bed.
Mikey edged backward, the back of his foot touching the bat.
She needed to keep Garrett’s attention focused on her. “Do it then. Come on! Do it. I’m right here, you pathetic piece of crap.”
His hands shot out, the knife falling from his fingers and clattering to the floor, and his hands wrapped around her throat, closing in a vice. Jenna choked, and clawed at his fingers. Her breath swelled in her lungs, burning.
“Get off her!” Ryker yelled, He started to scrabble to his feet, using the bed to try and pull himself up, but his useless arm fell to his side, blood spilling onto the floor.
Her eyes darted frantically to Ryker, trying to make him understand that she didn’t want him to save her. She only wanted him to take Mikey and run.
Her vision clouded at the edges and then turned black, like paper scorching. Behind Garrett, Mikey rose up to full height, clutching the baseball bat. Her ex-boyfriend’s attention was purely directed at her, watching her face turn from red, to purple, to blue as the oxygen slowly drained from her system. His hands tightened and he gave her a slight shake as if to hurry up the process. There was no sign of humanity in his eyes or compassion. He was focused on one thing, and that was killing her. Finally, she’d pushed him too far.
Mikey moved behind him, leaning back on his right foot, taking the bat, clutched in two hands, with him.
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The black around her vision descended, her lungs feeling as though they would explode, but then she heard a crack, just as if Mikey had hit a homerun, and suddenly the hands around her throat vanished.
Jenna fell to the floor, gasping for breath in painful wheezes, clutching at her throat.
Garrett stayed upright for a few seconds, and then he folded at the knees and crumpled to the ground, narrowly missing Jenna. His eyes were still open, but they stared up at spot high on the wall, unseeing, and she knew he was dead.
Stunned silence fell over them all.
Ryker was the first to move. “Oh, shit, Jenna. Are you all right?” He half crawled toward her on his knees only, holding the arm that had been stabbed tight against his body to prevent further blood loss.
She tried to tell him she was okay, but her voice came out as a rasp. Her throat burned as if she’d been swallowing fire. He reached her and she wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his neck and choking back a sob. It felt so good to hold him again, to inhale his scent, feel his warmth, and know they were both alive. She didn’t ever want to let go.
Mikey dropped the baseball bat, the crash making them jump.
“Oh my God, Mikey,” Ryker said, releasing her to turn to his brother. “You saved our lives. You have no idea how proud I am of you right now.”
The boy let out a strange sob, and fell to his knees beside them. Jenna let go of Ryker with one arm to pull Mikey into the hug, creating a circle.
“You’re a hero, Mikey,” she told him, slowly regaining her voice. It came out as a rasp and hurt her throat to speak, but the more she spoke, the stronger her voice became.
Mikey’s gaze flicked back to the body crumpled on the floor. “I killed him.”
She took him by the shoulders, and drew back to look him in the eye. “If you hadn’t, he would have killed all of us, and probably more people after. You did the right thing. Don’t ever think you didn’t.”
They all glanced back to the body. A pool of blood was starting to spread out like a halo behind Garrett’s head, and she knew without looking that the back of his skull had been caved in. That, together with the blood still smeared across the lower half of his face from where she’d broken his nose, made for a macabre sight. She dug deep inside herself, trying to tell if any part of her felt sorrow at Garrett’s death. She wanted to think she at least had that in her, to regret the loss of another life, but all she felt was cold satisfaction.
Dangerous Encounters: A Romantic Suspense Boxed Set Page 61
