Cut Too Deep

by Marissa Farrar

  Right now, staring down into her bag, nothing was in the right order. Hell, it was barely folded. Her jeans were mixed up with her sweaters, her sneakers pointing upward and touching her clean underwear zip-lock bag.

  Someone had gone through her things.

  Goose bumps crawled over her skin and she dropped the bag and stepped back, staring at it as if it might suddenly grow jaws and teeth and bite her. She clutched the towel closer to her body. Had Ryker moved her stuff around when he’d brought her bags in? She didn’t understand why he would do that, but she needed to know.

  Leaving the bag where it was, she hurried to the bedroom door, opened it and leaned out into the hall.

  “Ryker?” she called, unsure if he was out of the shower himself. Then a little louder, “Ryker!”

  His head appeared at the bottom of the stairs, his dark hair damp from the shower, his skin pinker than usual and shiny clean. “Hey, what’s up?” He caught sight of her only wearing the towel and his eyebrows lifted. “Did you decide you didn’t want to use that lock after all?”

  She glared at him. “Stop thinking about sex and get up here. I need to ask you something.”

  The smile fell from his mouth as he realized something was wrong and he took the stairs two at a time to come to stand in the hall in front of her. “What’s happened?”

  Still holding the towel in one hand, she took his arm with the other and pulled him toward the bedroom. “I need to show you.”

  In the bedroom, she stood over her bag. “Do you see how everything is all messed up, all the different items of clothing jumbled together, and the shoes pointing toward the top of the bag?”

  He glanced at her as if she was crazy. “Uh … yeah, I guess.”

  “Well, I never pack like that. My stuff is always folded and in the right order.”

  His eyebrows pulled together as he studied the bag. “Couldn’t it have gotten messed up while I was carrying it and throwing it into the truck?”

  She shook her head. “Not like that. Stuff can’t switch places, and I pack tightly enough so things don’t move around.” She focused her gaze on his. “Please, Ryker. I know what I’m talking about here. Someone has been through my things, I can feel it.” She hesitated, and then said, “Was it you?”

  He shook his head. “No, of course not. I wouldn’t go through your stuff.”

  “Someone has, and, if it wasn’t you, there’s only two people it could have been.”

  He stared at her. “I’m going to guess Mikey is one. But who is the other?”

  “Garrett.”

  “You still think you saw him?”

  “I don’t know. But I know someone has touched my things, and if it wasn’t you, and Mikey says it wasn’t him, then that only leaves one other option.”

  “Okay, let’s go ask Mikey.”

  “Just give me a minute. I need to put some clothes on.”

  “Oh, sure.” He stood where he was, his arms folded across his chest.

  She glared at him again. “In privacy!”

  He repressed a smile, and turned to wait in the hall.

  Jenna didn’t like being alone. It felt as if whoever had touched her things was still here, watching her. Quickly, she grabbed a set of underwear, a clean pair of jeans, and a baggy, v-neck t-shirt, and pulled them on. She tried not to think about whose hands might have fingered the material not so long ago.

  Dressed, she went out into the hallway where Ryker waited. He took her by the hand, and together they headed downstairs and back into the living room where Mikey continued to play his games.

  Ryker crouched in front of his still-sitting brother to bring them to an equal level. “Mikey, I have to ask you something very serious. Did you touch Jenna’s stuff while we were out?”

  Mikey sat back in his chair as if Ryker had just punched him. His eyes widened, his face coloring puce with outrage. “No, of course I didn’t!”

  Ryker tried again. “Please, Mikey. It’s okay if you did. It’s really important ’cause if someone has messed with Jenna’s stuff and it wasn’t you, then we really need to figure out who did it.”

  “I didn’t touch the chick’s gear. I swear it!”

  “Hey, if you were just being nosy, or looking for cash or something—”

  “What the fuck, Ryker? You’re accusing me of stealing now?” His gaze turned to Jenna. “Or is it you putting these ideas in his head? Am I getting in the way of your little love nest and you figured you’d rather I was gone?” Mikey shoved Ryker out of the way and jumped to his feet. “Well, fine. I’m out of here.”

  “Mikey, wait. If you say you didn’t touch her bags, we believe you.”

  Mikey’s mouth thinned to a line and he folded his arms across his chest. “I said I didn’t.”

  “Okay. Is there any way someone could have come into the house without you noticing?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. I was gaming and had my headphones on half the time. Someone might have come in.”

  Ryker and Jenna exchanged a glance.

  Jenna didn’t know what to believe. She didn’t have much of value, except for her laptop, and an emergency credit card, and neither of those things had been stolen. In fact, nothing had actually been taken, just messed up a little. Maybe Mikey was of that age where he might go through her stuff in the search of underwear, but she was hardly a Victoria’s Secret model. Mikey could find more erotic things simply by going online.

  But if it hadn’t been Mikey, did that mean Garrett was here? Had he snuck in and gone through her stuff while they were in town? If so, that meant he knew exactly where she was staying.

  “I need to go,” she told Ryker, pushing past him to go and gather her things. She ran up the stairs to the bedroom. She bent to grab her bags, but Ryker had followed her. He caught her by the wrist, pulling her back.

  “Wait. Where are you going?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. Anywhere but here. I was stupid to have come here in the first place. Garrett could have come in and hurt Mikey!”

  Ryker lowered his voice. “Hey, we don’t know it wasn’t Mikey who moved your stuff around. I don’t like calling my little brother a liar, but trust me, I’ve caught him out on bigger lies than this before. I don’t want you to go, especially not just because of this.”

  “It isn’t just because of this. It’s because of everything. I still thought I saw him, remember? Then there was the thing with the bird, and Garrett missing his parole meeting …” All the energy went out of her and she sank to the edge of the bed and put her head in her hands. “I don’t know what to think any more. I feel like I’m going crazy.” She shook her head. “Maybe that’s exactly what Garrett wants.”

  The bed dipped as Ryker sat down beside her. His big, warm hand made contact with her back and he rubbed in soothing circles.

  “You can’t go anywhere tonight, Jenna. It’s going to be getting dark soon, and there’s nowhere else in town for you to stay. I won’t see you sleeping out on the streets, especially if there’s a chance that son of a bitch is out there somewhere.”

  She lifted her eyes to his, searching their blue depths for the truth. “Aren’t you frightened for Mikey? For yourself? A seriously angry, probably mentally unstable ex-con might be out there somewhere, might know where you live and that you’re helping me, but you don’t seem fazed.”

  He looked back at her, his gaze unflinching. “I can take on that asshole, baby. If he comes for you, he’s got to go through me first.”

  A sob swelled up inside her, and she clamped her hand to her mouth, trying to prevent it bursting from her throat. She didn’t know if she wanted to cry because she was so happy Ryker wanted to protect her, or because she was so terrified for what she might have dropped on this already struggling, small family.

  Unable to speak, she threw her arms around his neck. She buried her face in his throat, absorbing the scent of him. His hands wrapped around her body and he held her tight.

  She never want
ed him to let go.

  Chapter Thirteen

  However much she wanted to give in to her feelings for Ryker, Jenna had no choice but to fight them. Garrett might know exactly where she was. She forced herself to break from his embrace and got to her feet. “I need to go.”

  She reached for her bags, but Ryker stood as well and grabbed her hand before she could lift one of the hold-alls.

  “You’re not going anywhere, Jenna. I mean it. I don’t want to hear another word about it.”

  She shook her head. “I’m frightened. I don’t want to get you or Mikey in trouble.”

  He pulled her back against him, and she pressed her face against his chest. His hand ran up and down her back in a soothing caress. “Let me worry about me and Mikey.”

  Ryker’s hand moved from her back, trailing up her neck to stop to stroke her cheek with the back of his fingers. Jenna lifted her face from his chest, her eyes filled with tears. He studied her face intently, and his fingers moved from her cheek to trace the outline of her mouth. His thumb dragged across her lower lip and she opened her mouth slightly, instinctively teasing the tip of his thumb with her teeth and tongue.

  Ryker gave a sharp inhale of breath, his gaze growing darker.

  His hand cupped her cheek once again and he leaned into her, his lips claiming hers.

  He kissed her, deep and hard and hungry. She returned his fervor, her arms around his neck, their tongues dancing and breath fast and heated. Ryker’s hands reached down, cupping her ample backside and pressing her harder against him. Excitement spiked inside her, making her heart race. She could feel that he wanted her, the hard length of his arousal pressed into the soft folds of her stomach, and she stood on tiptoes, wanting to feel him against the softest, most intimate part of her. Ryker sensed what she was trying to do and lifted her higher, so they ground together as they kissed, like two horny teenagers.

  One of his hands left her bottom and slipped beneath her t-shirt, reaching upward to cup her breast, his thumb skirting over the lace-encased nipple. Jenna gasped, her body responding, her nipple tightening and crinkling, sending a jolt of pleasure downward, between her thighs. It had been a long time since anyone had touched her there and it ignited a fire inside her, a deep need, a craving to be with him. She fought at his t-shirt, lifting it up and pulling it over his head, amazed at her own brazenness. At the sight of his naked torso, she wanted to weep. Where Garrett had always been strong, but pale and wiry, Ryker had the sort of body she fantasized about. The sleeves of tattoos that ran up both arms stopped at his shoulders. His perfectly formed chest was naked from tattoos with the exception of a pair of birds which flew from his left pectoral. Nubs of silver were embedded in both of his nipples and with a moment of dizziness, she realized his nipples were pierced. Her gaze dropped lower, down the lines of his abdominals, to the dip of his navel and the line of dark hair which disappeared beneath the band of his jeans. The jeans sat dangerously low on his hips and she could see the jut of his hip bones protruding from the top and the dark shadows of more tattoos.

  Holy hell. Ryker Russo was sexy.

  Not only was he sexy, he was kissing her.

  Losing the ability to think rationally, she reached for the button of his jeans, wanting them off his body so she could reach the prize that had become so obvious beneath the material. He did the same, popping the button on her jeans as they continued to kiss, tasting, biting, nibbling, as if they wanted to devour each other.

  Her jeans were tight, so she helped him pull them down, and then toed the item off and onto the floor. His jeans also hit the floor, leaving him wearing only a tight pair of black Jockey shorts that left very little to the imagination.

  He reached behind her back and unclipped her bra, then tried to pull her shirt up, lifting the material over her stomach.

  Instantly, she snapped back to reality. She reached down and pushed his hand away.

  Ryker blinked in surprise. “What’s wrong? I thought you wanted this?”

  She looked at his almost-naked body, the flush of heat high in his cheeks, the fullness of his lips from them kissing for so long. “I do. I want it more than anything.” She glanced away, feeling stupid standing there, half-dressed, but with no other choice. If he saw what was beneath her shirt, he’d run a mile. “I just want to keep my shirt on.”

  He stared at her, his brow furrowed. “Why would you want to do that?”

  She shrugged, but her cheeks burned with shame. “I’m not confident with my body. I thought you knew that.”

  He stepped in, closing the gap between them again. He reached out and touched her cheek. “Jenna, I have no idea what you see when you look in the mirror, but it certainly isn’t the same thing I see.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I’m talking about the incredibly beautiful, sexy woman who is currently half-naked in my bedroom, and who I would really like to get fully naked so I can get her into my bed.”

  His hand slipped back up the inside of her shirt. She flinched, wondering if he could feel the change in texture of her skin as his hand slid higher. Her bra was still undone, and hung from her breasts. Ryker’s hand easily slid beneath the wire and lace, to cup her breast. He gently pinched her nipple between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed. Jenna couldn’t help herself. She let out a moan and dropped her forehead to his shoulder. She wanted him so badly, and he seemed to want her, but she didn’t know what to do.

  With his other hand, he tugged at her shirt. “Let me take it off. You’re gorgeous. Every part of you. You have no need to hide yourself.”

  Pulling his hand away from her breast, she repeated, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  She had two choices: Tell him the truth, or walk out of here now.

  She couldn’t bring herself to walk out. If he wanted to leave, she’d at least give him that choice.

  Jenna took his hand and pulled him to sit on the bed. She lifted her feet onto the mattress, her arms wrapped around her shins as she hugged herself, creating a type of subconscious barrier between them. Ryker twisted to face her, concern etched across his expression.

  She took a deep breath and began. “You know I told you Garrett was put in jail because he’d been drunk-driving?”

  Ryker nodded.

  She continued, “I was in the car that night. I didn’t want to get in. I tried to stop him from driving. I offered to drive us home because I knew he’d had too much to drink, but he got mad and pushed me inside and drove off. He was going too fast, and a deer ran out in front of us. Somehow Garrett managed to keep control of the car, but we skidded into the opposite lane. A massive truck came around the bend just as we came to a standstill, and it didn’t see Garrett’s car in time. It ploughed right into the side of us.”

  Ryker was staring at her, his blue eyes wide. He reached out and took her hand, giving it a squeeze. “Jesus Christ, Jenna. You must have been terrified.”

  She nodded. “When Garrett forced me into the car and was driving too fast, yes, I was terrified. But I don’t remember much after the accident. I didn’t regain consciousness for three days. I needed to have four different operations, the first to remove the organs that were too badly damaged to repair, one of my kidneys, my spleen, and one of my ovaries. After that, I had another couple of operations to try to repair the skin and tissue. The metal of the car door basically sliced me in two, and there wasn’t enough savable skin to stitch me back together, so I needed grafts from other parts of my body.”

  She wanted to cry. Ryker was looking at her with a pale face, tension in his neck and jaw. She thought he might be about to throw her out, but instead he got fully up onto the bed with her, knelt in front of her and pulled her into his arms. She found herself with her cheek against his bare chest, her arms around his waist, while he held her and kissed the top of her head.

  He released her and sat back on his haunches. His eyes were glassy with unshed tears, and she realized with a jolt that he
was upset for her.

  “I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” he said, his voice tight. “I hate that you had to experience such pain. It makes me furious, especially knowing the asshole who did that to you is out there somewhere, still making you afraid.”

  “It’s the reason I’m so paranoid about germs,” she admitted. “It’s not because I’m OCD—or at least, it didn’t start that way, though I probably have a touch of it now. It’s because it’s dangerous for me to get ill. With only one kidney and no spleen, I’d end up back in the hospital if I got sick.”

  Ryker nodded. “I understand.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Is this also the reason you won’t let me take off your top?”

  She bit her lower lip and nodded, casting her eyes down in shame. “I have scars from the accident. They’re horrible and I don’t want you to see them.”

  He looked at her intently, obviously considering his words. When he eventually spoke he did so softly. “Jenna, if you want to keep your t-shirt on because it makes you feel better, then that’s fine with me. I’ll take you, clothes or no clothes. I’m just happy to be with you. But if you think you’re comfortable enough with me to stay here in my bed and have sex with me, I would really love it if you let me see your scars. They’re a part of you now, and no part of you could ever be ugly.”

  Her stomach turned at the idea of showing him the part of herself she hated the most. “I don’t know, Ryker.”

  He pulled her back into his arms and tugged her down so they lay side by side on the bed. “You don’t need to make a decision now. Just stay here with me, okay?”

  She gave a small smile and nodded. Ryker reached out again to touch her cheek, and then he was kissing her again, his mouth warm and firm against hers. Every part of her body relaxed and softened as his kiss grew deeper, his hands raking through her hair. Their legs tangled together, and she quickly discovered he still wanted her. And she wanted him, too.