Cut Too Deep

by Marissa Farrar

  “Hey, Ryker,” she said brightly, completely ignoring Jenna. “I didn’t think I’d see you here.” She pushed nonexistent stray hair from her face. “I just finished my run. I must look such a mess!”

  Ryker frowned. “You look fine.”

  Jenna stomach sank. She didn’t look fine; she looked like she’d just walked out of a sportswear catalogue.

  For the first time, she glanced at Jenna, and then back to Ryker. “Can I have a quick word?”

  “Not really. What do you want, Megan? I’m kind of busy.”

  Megan positioned herself at the side of the table, so she was as close to Ryker as she could get, with her back to Jenna. She bent down low to Ryker, pushing her ample cleavage in his face, while she said in a low voice, but not low enough for Jenna to not hear. “I really don’t get what you’re doing with the fat girl, Ryker. You know you can do so much better. You’ve got my number, right?”

  Jenna’s cheeks burned with embarrassment.

  “Yeah, remind me to lose it,” Ryker said, his tone cold. “And who I spend time with is none of your business. Just so you know, the whole skinny, flirty girl leaves me cold. I’d much rather have a girl with curves and a personality.”

  Jenna covered her mouth to prevent laughter bursting out of her. Pride swelled inside her and she had to press her lips together to stop herself from climbing across the table and telling him she loved him.

  Megan’s mouth dropped open and she straightened. “You would be lucky to get this, Ryker Russo,” and she gestured down her body. She spun to Jenna. “And if you think you’re special just because he’s out with you … Don’t. He’s clearly got some kind of weird fetish, and you’re the one who is the freak.”

  Ryker slowly got to his feet. “I suggest you leave.”

  Jenna stood up, too. “Yeah, you should leave before I pick your skinny ass up and throw you out.”

  Megan stared between them both, before giving a ‘humph’ of anger and storming from the coffee shop.

  “Wow,” said Jenna, sitting back down. “You sure know how to attract them.”

  “Yeah, sorry about that. Shall we get out of here?”

  She nodded and left the remains of her cooling coffee where it was.

  They walked around the park hand in hand, skirting the lake. Neither of them spoke, but the silence felt comfortable.

  Eventually, Ryker said, “You’re not thinking about what happened back there, are you?”

  She shrugged. “A little, I guess. I just don’t know what you see in me. You could have anyone. That girl in the coffee shop was right. It isn’t just the guys saying bad things.”

  “No one should say bad things about you,” he growled, pulling her to a halt. He lowered his forehead to hers, his hands crept around her hips, and he stared into her eyes. “I think you’re incredibly sexy, Jenna.” His hands sneaked beneath her t-shirt and over the mounds of fat she thought of as her saddlebags, and hated. “See these parts?” He squeezed her flesh and she did her best not to pull out of his grip. “Grabbing your soft body when you’re on top of me makes me hornier than I’ve ever been in my life. Maybe some guys like skinny girls, and that’s their business, but it’s not my thing. I love how soft and full your breasts are, and how curvy your hips are, and how your bottom jiggles every time you move. It’s so fucking sexy.”

  She wanted so desperately to believe him, to think for once in her life that she was all woman, and sexy and beautiful just as she was, without needing to change herself. But she couldn’t. Even if she could accept her curves, something else would always destroy all hopes of her being beautiful.

  “But what about my scars?”

  He stared down at her, his blue eyes focused on hers, drilling into her gaze so intensely she felt like he was seeing right into her soul. “What scars? All I see is you, Jenna Armstrong, and you’re fucking perfect just the way you are.”

  A smile spread across her face and she threw her arms around his neck, squeezing him tight. “I think that’s just about the best thing anyone has ever said to me.”

  Slung over her shoulder, her purse started to vibrate. It took her a couple of seconds to realize her phone was ringing, but when the penny dropped, she rummaged around in her purse and found the cell. She took a couple of steps from Ryker and then answered.

  “Hello?”

  “Jenna, I wasn’t sure whether to call you or not, but then I decided that if anything happened, I would never forgive myself.”

  Her blood ran cold at the sound of his voice. “What is it, Detective Harlem? Just tell me.”

  “You remember Stephen Francis?”

  She brought to mind the twenty-three year old man—skinny, with a hollow-cheeked face, but wide, sincere eyes. He’d been in court to testify against Garrett, to explain how he’d seen Garrett push Jenna into the car, and how she’d seemed upset and had struggled against him. Afterward, the young man had approached Jenna and told her how sorry he was that they’d done nothing. It had eaten at him, he’d said, though the friend he’d been with had denied ever seeing anything, said he’d been faced in the wrong direction. Both Jenna and Stephen knew that wasn’t the truth, but there was nothing they could have done about it. Anyway, they hadn’t needed the friend’s testimony in the end. Jenna and Stephen’s testimonies, together with Garrett’s blood alcohol levels, had been enough to put him away.

  “Yeah,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. “I remember him.”

  “I’m sorry, Jenna, but he’s been found dead.”

  She felt as if someone had punched her in the stomach. “Dead? How?”

  Ryker stared at her, motioning with his hand to get her to tell him what was happening, but she shook her head and turned away.

  “We’re not exactly sure yet. He appears to have fallen down a flight of concrete steps, but some of the head injuries aren’t consistent with a fall. An autopsy is going to be conducted, and the case is being classified as suspicious.”

  Her eyes swam with tears of fear. “It was Garrett.”

  Nick Harlem’s tone grew hard. “Jenna, this is the reason I hesitated about calling you. I don’t want you to jump to conclusions. I just want you to be vigilant.”

  “I’m always vigilant. I already told you that I’ve felt him around, and strange things have been happening.”

  “How can Garrett be stalking you and killing Stephen Francis at the same time? I’m assuming you’re still hundreds of miles away?”

  He had a point.

  “Anyway,” he continued, “there’s no evidence, yet, that implicates Garrett in Stephen’s death. It’s probably just a coincidence that Garrett missed his parole meeting and then Stephen turned up dead.”

  She snorted hysterical laughter. “You think?”

  He ignored the comment. “I just wanted to let you know before you found out somewhere else.”

  Jenna forced herself to stay calm. “Okay, thanks for letting me know.”

  Nick Harlem hesitated and then said, “Do you have someone, Jenna? A family member you’re staying with or something? I hate to think of you being alone during all of this.”

  She didn’t have any family, not since her mother had died. She’d never known her father, and had no other distant relatives she knew of. But then she turned back around to see Ryker standing beside the lake, his hand locked in his hair in the way he did when he grew worried, watching her with a concerned expression.

  “Yeah,” she said, her eyes fixed on Ryker. “I have someone. I’m not alone anymore.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jenna ended the call and sank to the ground in a crouch. The cell phone fell from her fingers and landed on the gravel. She’d managed to hold herself together during the call, but now everything came crashing down on her, making her feel like she was losing her grip on reality. She put her head in her hands, trying to stop the world from spinning.

  Right away, Ryker was at her side, his hand on her back.

  “Talk to me, Jenna. Who was o
n the phone?”

  She lifted her face to his. “It was the detective who worked on the case when Garrett was convicted. He said the guy who testified against Garrett during the trial has turned up dead.”

  “Jesus. What happened?”

  She shook her head. “They don’t know for sure, but the circumstances are suspicious.”

  “Garrett?”

  “There’s no way of knowing until they’ve done an autopsy and collected evidence, I guess.” She put her head back in her hands and exhaled. “I just can’t believe this is happening. That guy might be dead because of me.”

  “No, he isn’t. If your ex is involved, that man is dead because of him, not you. You’re as much of a victim in this as he is.” He thought for a moment. “At least if he is involved, it’ll put your mind to rest about some things.”

  She frowned. “How do you mean?”

  “Well, if he’s killing people in another town, he can’t be here terrorizing you.”

  She hated to think how selfish it would make her for that fact to bring her any kind of comfort, but she had to admit he was right. Garrett couldn’t be here stalking her and killing a man in a whole other state at the same time.

  Her shoulders sagged. “Yeah, that’s what the detective said.”

  He took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  They reached Ryker’s truck and he drove them back to his house. Jenna still felt shaken, as if she’d woken from a nightmare and hadn’t quite yet managed to realign her thoughts to the waking world.

  Ryker opened the front door and Jenna followed.

  “Mikey?” he called. No answer came. “He must have gone over to his friend’s house.”

  They were alone.

  “Do you want more coffee?” Ryker offered. “Or perhaps you need something stronger?”

  She’d come to realize Ryker was even more of a coffee fiend than she was, but right now she needed her nerves calming, not ratcheted even higher.

  “Tea would be better, thanks, Ryker.” She gave him a grateful smile and went to sit at the breakfast counter, her gaze drifting across the kitchen toward the window and out to the back yard beyond.

  Her heart froze in her chest.

  Trembling, she got back to her feet and staggered to the back door. Ryker’s voice chased her as she fell outside. “Jenna? What are you doing?”

  She stumbled to come to a standstill in front of her sheets which hung motionless in the sunlight. Red streaks marred the starched white cotton. Gray dollops of shit and small feathers clung to the material. Below the sheets on the ground lay a small pile of crushed, feathered bodies. She struggled to tell where one bird started and another ended. Wings were torn from bodies and mangled, small heads crushed, exposing tiny fragments of white skull, and open beaks. At a guess, she figured there were a dozen birds—probably most of them sparrows.

  “Oh, God.”

  She turned away from the sight, her hand over her mouth, nausea washing over her.

  Ryker’s voice came, shocked, beside her. “Why the hell would Mikey do this?”

  She stared at him in confusion. “Mikey? This isn’t Mikey’s work!”

  “Who else could it be?”

  “It’s fucking birds again! This has Garrett written all over it!” Overwhelmed, losing control of her senses, she lifted her face to the sky and screamed. “Are you out there, you son of a bitch? Come and get me then. Come and face me. I’m right here, you fucking coward!”

  Ryker grabbed her arm. “Jenna, stop it. This might have been Mikey.”

  She repressed a sob, her voice choked. “Why would he do something like this?”

  He rubbed at his mouth. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s jealous that I’m spending time with you and wants to frighten you off. Who the hell knows? He’s a teenager and their brains don’t work in the same way as everyone else’s.”

  She covered her face with her hands and shook her head. “I don’t know what to think.” She looked up again. “All I know is that Garrett is out and the authorities don’t know where he is. Ever since he’s been out bad things have been happening and I’ve had this horrible feeling he’s somewhere close.”

  Ryker pulled her into his arms. “Hey, it’s okay. You’ve been careful about covering your tracks. How would Garrett even know you were staying here?”

  “He’s smart. That’s one of the things about him. People he encounters think he’s barely got enough brain power to get out of bed in the morning, but he’s frighteningly clever. Everyone underestimates him.”

  “Even so, there’s no paper trail that could lead him here, is there?”

  “No, but if he found out I’m in Arlington, he might have seen us out somewhere and followed us back.” Even though she was frightened for herself, the main thing that scared her was getting innocent people hurt. In some way, she felt she deserved Garrett’s wrath, but there was no way either Mikey or Ryker deserved to be brought into this mess.

  She’d been trying not to think about her car, somehow clinging to the ridiculous hope that this situation could have a happy ending—that she wasn’t in a situation at all. She’d been hoping that simply not thinking about it would make everything normal.

  Jenna forced herself to be strong, but her voice came out shaky. “Have you heard anything about the parts for my car being delivered yet?”

  He pressed his lips together and shook his head. “No, I haven’t. But listen to me, Jenna. I don’t want you to run away again. I can’t stand the thought of you packing up and clearing out of town, especially not when you’re clearly frightened and probably still traumatized from what happened to you.”

  She lifted a hand and motioned toward the sad pile of crushed little bodies. “Of course I’m frightened. This is a threat, Ryker. There’s no other way of seeing this.”

  “Yes, there is. It might have been Mikey, or hell, maybe someone else out to get their own back. What about Megan and her friend? They’re the bitchy type, and they certainly didn’t appreciate getting knocked back. You don’t know that this is even meant for you. This is my house and my yard. How would anyone even know those sheets belonged to you?”

  She pushed her hair away from her face and let out a sigh. “Okay, you have a point. But this doesn’t seem like the work of a couple of bitchy girls.”

  “I’m saying that there are a number of possibilities, so we shouldn’t do anything rash. Remember what your detective said on the phone. If Garrett killed that man, he couldn’t be here as well.”

  “No, but it also means I have a vengeful ex-boyfriend out there somewhere who is now a murderer.”

  “Just please don’t think about leaving right now, Jenna. Please. The idea of you alone and frightened, and on the run, just about kills me.”

  She took in the sight of his strained expression, the hurt and worry in his eyes. Her heart felt as if it might break. The idea of doing something that would cause him pain almost broke her. The last thing she wanted to do was leave him. She was crazy about him, hell, she might even be in love with him, though she had no intention of telling him such a thing.

  “Okay,” she said. “I won’t leave yet.”

  He breathed a sigh of relief.

  She glanced back over at the small pile of bodies. “What about all of this? Should we go to the cops?”

  Ryker shook his head. “I don’t want to get them involved. Having the police here isn’t good for me and Mikey with social services. Can we keep this between us?”

  “Of course.”

  “I’ll get this mess cleared up,” he said. “What do you want me to do with the sheets? I can put them back in the machine, but I’m not sure how well the blood will wash out.”

  Jenna shuddered at the idea of ever going anywhere near those sheets again, never mind sleeping on them. “Put them in the trash—hell, burn them. I never want to see them again.”

  Ryker nodded. “Okay. Go back inside and leave me to it. I’ll be back in as soon as
it’s done.”

  She stood on tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks, Ryker.”

  He grinned. “I’d say anytime, but I’m hoping having to clear up dead birds isn’t something that’s going to become an everyday thing with us.”

  She shot him a look. “Don’t even joke about it.”

  “Sorry.”

  Jenna went back into the house and set about finishing making the tea Ryker had started. She didn’t particularly want the beverage anymore, but she wanted to keep herself busy. Her hands shook as she poured water from the kettle into a teapot, spilling hot water on the countertop.

  She took the tea into the living room and curled up on the couch, waiting for Ryker to be done. Within ten minutes, he joined her.

  “You washed your hands, didn’t you?” she asked, anxiety creeping up on her. The thought of him touching all that blood and bird shit, not to mention all the little dead bodies, sent her heart rate spiking.

  “Yeah, several times.” He wiggled his large fingers in front of her face. “No germs, I promise.”

  She made herself accept what he had said, pushing the idea of bacteria swarming all over his skin out of her head. “I made you tea,” she said, nodding to the coffee table where she’d set his cup. “It might be cold now, though.”

  He settled in beside her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her against him. She slid an arm around his waist and snuggled into his chest, content just to be held by him for the moment.

  Being held in Ryker’s arms was the best protection she could think of.

  The front door opened, and they both sat up straight and exchanged a glance.

  “Hey, Mikey,” Ryker called out. “Can you get in here for a minute?”

  The boy’s face appeared around the door. “What’s up?”

  “Come into the room, please. Is there anything you need to tell us?”

  Mikey slid his body fully into the room to stand in front of them. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, bro.”