His story sounded horribly like the truth, but she forced herself to hold back tears. Any sign of emotion would show Garrett that she believed him, and then she’d lose all hope of Garrett bringing Ryker to her.
She forced a scornful laugh. “You could have just made that up. You’ve already told me that Ryker used my credit card to buy things, so why would I think he’d come after me? He could be sitting at home right now playing on whatever the hell it was he ordered with my money.”
Garrett slammed his hand down on the counter behind her. “I told you he’s not!” he yelled, the white of his face now turning puce with fury. “He was no match for me. I took him out with one smack.” He positioned his hands as if he was still holding the wood, and swung at an imaginary Ryker.
The air caught in Jenna’s lungs, imagining Ryker now lying, dead, on the hallway floor. “I don’t believe you,” she said again, but it came out as a whisper. She cleared her throat and spoke with more conviction. “I don’t believe you. If he’s really dead, show me.”
Garrett froze, rigid with anger, staring at her. Then slowly, he nodded. “You know what; I think I will take you to the house. Someone’s going to disturb us here at the garage again soon enough. I’ll take you to your boyfriend’s house, and then I’ll fuck you in his bed. Hell, I might even prop his body up in the corner so we can pretend he’s watching us do it. How does that sound?”
“Like you’re a sick fuck!”
She hadn’t bargained on him taking her to the house. She’d been hoping he’d go and get the body, so he’d leave her alone for long enough to try and figure out how to get some help. But a trip to the house would at least mean a ride in a car, and that might open up some opportunities to get someone to notice something was wrong and try to help.
The thought of seeing Ryker dead left her sick and dizzy. Part of her still didn’t believe it, but once she was faced with seeing him dead, she’d have no choice. Then her world would come tumbling down, and she wondered if she’d even care if Garrett killed her. Maybe she would end up begging him to get it over with so she wouldn’t have to live with the pain.
Garrett straightened and rubbed his hands together. “If you and I are going to take a little road trip, I guess I’d better stash this body out of sight, you know, just in case anyone comes nosing around while we’re away.”
“Do what you want,” she snapped.
“Oh, I intend to.”
He rounded the counter and she heard a shuffling as Garrett took hold of Sam’s limp arms. From her position, even when she twisted her head around, she could only see Sam’s feet as Garrett pulled his body away, the corpse scraping and sliding across the ground, toward the back of the building, leaving a thick smear of dark blood against the floor. Bile burned its way up her throat and she quickly twisted her head back around and swallowed hard. She couldn’t throw up. Sitting in her own vomit would push her over the edge.
Garrett returned, holding a large roll of blue paper. “I’ve locked the body in the rest room back there. Should be a while before anyone finds it.”
“Fantastic,” she muttered.
Garrett got down on his knees and started to wipe away some of the blood. The blood had cooled, becoming thick and gelatinous. He scooped up the worst of it in handfuls of paper and dumped the sodden paper into the trash. With a fresh roll of towels, he got back down on his hands and knees and scrubbed away at the stains, the paper rasping against the concrete.
That’ll never come off, Jenna thought. Even if he had the best cleaning products, that amount of blood would still stain. She hoped, after they’d left, someone would come into the garage and notice the bloodstains, and realize something was wrong. If that happened, they’d surely call the police, and Ryker’s house would probably be one of the first places they’d check.
But Garrett must have already thought this through. He got to his feet and crossed to the back of the garage, where he took a container of engine oil off the shelf. He walked back to the stain, unscrewing the lid as he did so, and dribbled the dark, caramel liquid over the marks.
“There.” He nodded down at his handiwork in approval. “That should be enough not to cause any suspicion.”
Dread settled over Jenna’s shoulders, and she looked away, staring down at the ground, trying to hold back her fear. She’d always said Garrett was smart, and he seemed to be being thorough about covering his tracks. The sound of his feet on the garage floor approached and he came to stop directly in front of her. She lifted her head to see him standing there with a silver roll of duct tape in one hand, and an old, oil-stained rag in the other.
He lifted the rag and waved it in front of her face. “Don’t want you making too much noise now, do we?”
She realized what he intended on doing and panic clutched her in its grip. All of her fear of germs returned in one huge swoop, wiping all other fear from her mind. She could see the bacteria crawling over the material and the idea of having it anywhere near her, never mind in her mouth, sent her into panic mode. Pain speared through her skull, her head feeling as if it was swelling and might explode. Her lungs seemed to shrink, making it impossible to catch her breath so she began to gasp. Her whole body felt cold and clammy, her palms coated in sweat.
She shook her head, frantic. “No, please, Garrett. I won’t make any noise, I swear.”
He took another step closer and laughed. “You don’t think I’d believe you, do you?”
“Use the tape then,” she pleaded. “Tape my mouth up. Just please don’t gag me with that thing.”
His brow drew together as he glanced at the rag he held in one hand. He gave it a shake. “What? This?”
“Just use the tape. I won’t yell. Please.”
But he must have realized using it would cause her more distress. “Uh-uh. I intend on doing things my way.”
He put down the tape and reached out toward her. Jenna clamped her jaw shut, breathing in frantic gasps through her nose. She pressed her lips and teeth together so hard it hurt, but Garret grabbed the bottom of her jaw and squeezed his fingers together, pressing the insides of her cheeks between her back teeth, trying to get his fingers in there to get her to open her mouth.
Jenna squealed and tried to twist her face away, but he was too strong. He forced her mouth open, and a second later, the dirty cloth was stuffed between her lips. The cloying taste of oil and sweat lay thick and dry against her tongue. She retched, but managed not to be sick.
“Now, now,” scolded Garrett. “You’ll choke on your own vomit if you do that.”
In her mind, a billion germs and bacteria swam across her tongue, the roof of her mouth, and down her throat. She imagined them swarming into her bloodstream, ready to attack her remaining organs like a microscopic army. The edges of her vision went black and the world started to swim away.
But a sudden crack across her face, following by a sharp sting of pain in her cheek, brought her back, and she realized Garrett had slapped her again.
“Don’t go spoiling my fun,” he said with a grin. “I already told you you’re boring when you’re unconscious.”
He picked up the roll of tape and yanked her feet so they lay straight out in front of her body. She was too stunned to fight back, and sat still as he taped her ankles together, winding the tape around and around so she stood no chance of getting free without something sharp to cut the bonds.
A tear slipped down her cheek and dripped off the end of her nose.
He rubbed his hands together. “Right. My car is parked out back, so we’ll take the back door. You ready?” He made a swiping motion with his hand as if to allow her to go first, and then laughed. “Oh yeah, you’re not exactly able to walk right now. Guess I’ll have to carry you.”
He wedged his foot against her bound feet, then bent down and grabbed the tops of her arms, hauling her up, before he shoved his shoulder into her stomach and lifted her off her feet. The movement winded her, but she had no choice but to hang over his shoulder, breathi
ng best she could through her nose. He let go of one of her arms and thrust his hand into her crotch in order to hold her steady as he straightened up. Thankfully, he removed his hand from her most private area in order to grab the back of her leg and get a firmer grip.
Garrett stomped toward the back of the garage, and out into the back room, Jenna bouncing uncomfortably across his shoulder. Another door was at the end of the room, which led out onto a small corridor. The exit leading to the rear of the property was positioned at the end. In the corridor, they passed another couple of doors on the right, one of which she assumed was the restroom which now held Sam’s body.
Garrett banged out of the back door and into fresh air and bright sunlight. Jenna squinted in the glare. She prayed someone would see them, but there was nothing out here except the carcasses of a couple of old vehicles and, in contrast, a new, shiny white Ford Explorer. The windows were blacked out and the vehicle looked conspicuous in its run down surroundings.
He shifted her weight, clearly starting to struggle, but managed to reach out and open the back door of the Ford. He bent over and half threw, half shoved her onto the back seat, so she lay across the soft leather.
The new car smell filled her nostrils, combined with the scent of leather. It helped to combat the taste of old oil that coated the inside of her mouth, but only a little.
“You like the wheels?” he said, patting the top of the roof. “Another perk to being in jail. I got contacts for great stolen vehicles, and for a new driver’s license—in a fake name, of course.” He looked down at her almost pityingly. “You could have done with one of those as well, and you probably wouldn’t be in the position you are now.”
And with that, he slammed the door shut on her.
Jenna tried not to cry. Tried not to let the panic take over so she lost all rational thought. But she didn’t want to be in a car with Garrett driving.
The last time she’d been in a car with him, she’d almost died.
Chapter Twenty-two
Garrett climbed into the driver’s seat and started the vehicle.
From where Jenna lay on the back seat, she could just about make out the back of his head above the headrest. His hand reached out to shift into drive, and the big SUV started moving.
Her heart beat so hard she thought it might burst from her chest. She wasn’t wearing a seatbelt, and with both her arms and legs strapped together, if they were in an accident she’d have no way of protecting herself. Perhaps that would be a better way to die than being raped and murdered at Garrett’s hands. Weirdly, it felt as if this had all come full circle. Maybe she had been meant to die in the accident a year ago, and this past year had been her trick on fate. Perhaps fate was simply back to claim her now, and the last year of misery might as well never have happened. In some ways, she wished she had died in that accident. Wouldn’t that have been better than suffering all those weeks of agonizing surgeries, followed by months of recuperation? She’d spent the year alone and suffering, the whole time watching the calendar and waiting for the time to arrive when she knew Garrett would be released from jail. And what had it all been for? Only for him to find her again and finish what he’d started, just as she’d known he would.
No, she would have been better off to die a year ago.
A little voice spoke in her head. But then you’d have never met Ryker.
Her heart swelled with her love for him, holding the emotion tight to herself as if it were the one last lifeline that might save her. She’d gladly live the last year over again if it meant just a few more blissful days with him.
A different voice spoke in her head, a much colder voice. But if you’d never met him, he would still be alive now, and Mikey wouldn’t be left without a family. The voice was right. She was poison. She’d poisoned their lives. She deserved to die, too.
The SUV bumped and jolted down the street. Jenna slid down to one side as Garrett took a turn. The top of her head smacked against the inside of the car door, and she gave a muffled moan of pain. The rag was still stuffed in her mouth, and she tried desperately not to think about the germs and dirt she was being exposed to, how they would be floating around her lungs, and slipping down into her stomach, knowing it would only make her gag. She was barely holding onto her panic as it was, containing her desire to scream and cry and claw at her skin with her nails. If she started to throw up, it would be all over for her. She felt certain she was going to die now—it was a case of how she was going to die, rather than when. Though she clung to the faintest strand of hope that Garrett would make it quick, she doubted such a thing would happen. He’d torment her and he’d love every moment.
Jenna tried to picture in her head the route Garrett was taking, and how far from the house they would be now. They stopped—at a stoplight, she assumed—and she slid forward, almost falling into the foot well. Only by lifting her knees and jamming them against the back of the passenger seat did she stop herself from ending up on the floor.
The car started moving again, and she heard the tick-tock-tick-tock of the indicator, the gentle purr of the engine. Garrett took a right, and then within a few minutes, took another right. If Jenna had her mental map correct, they would be pulling up to Ryker’s house soon, but she could be way off considering she’d not been in town long, and of course, that she was lying on a back seat, bound and filled with panic.
Garrett signaled again, and she tried not to laugh with hysteria at the fact the murderer, abductor, and potential rapist had turned into such a cautious driver, and then the car pulled over. The engine died around her.
Garrett cracked open the door and climbed out, but, before he even had the chance to slam the door behind him again footsteps ran up to the car, slapping on the sidewalk, and a male voice sounded.
“Hey, man. You can’t park there. I’ve got a delivery truck due to show up any minute now.”
Jenna froze at the voice, and then realized this might be her only chance. She inhaled as much as she could through her nose, and let out a scream, though the sound was muffled and pathetic. She bucked and thrashed her body, making as much noise as possible.
Garrett, at least, must have heard her, because he slammed the door shut.
Jenna kept going, screaming against the cloth until her throat burned. She heard the man’s voice again and paused just long enough to make out what was being said.
“I said you need to move your car.”
Garrett’s voice. “Yeah, I heard you. I’m doing it right now.”
“Doesn’t look like you’re doing much to me.”
He didn’t want to open the door again to get back behind the wheel because of her, Jenna realized. If he opened the door, she might be heard. She wished the windows of the Ford weren’t blacked out, so the guy outside could see her on the backseat. But she guessed Garrett had planned for that.
She needed to increase her efforts.
With her feet bound, she managed to twist onto her back. She lifted her knees and hammered her feet against the inside of the door. She’d lost her shoes somewhere back at the garage, so her bare soles only made a muffled thump against the padded metal, but she kept it up, certain the noise would be heard from the outside.
Garrett’s voice came again. “Look, just get the hell away from my car, and then I’ll move it. Okay?”
“What the heck is your problem, man? All I—” The man trailed off, and then said. “What is that thumping? What have you got in there?”
Garrett paused. “Oh, that’s just my dog. He hates being cooped up.”
Disbelief was evident in the guy’s tone. “That’s your dog?”
Jenna screamed again, spurred on that she been heard. She increased her efforts, kicking the door harder and faster. She’d been heard! Someone would save her!
“Yeah.” Garrett’s tone had grown hard and cold, and a nugget of dread settled in Jenna’s stomach. “You want to see it?”
The man’s voice sounded confused. “No, not really. I just want you to
move the damn car.”
“I think you should see it.”
Suddenly, the back door her feet had been hitting opened, bright sunlight blaring into her eyes, making her squint. But she managed to make out the shape of Garrett standing silhouetted against the sunlight, another man at his side.
“That ain’t no dog!” the other man exclaimed. “What the fuck—?”
But he didn’t get a chance to finish. Garrett grabbed him by the back of the head and slammed the man’s forehead against the roof of the car. There was a sickening crunch, but Garrett didn’t stop there. He pulled the man’s head back again, and once more smashed his skull against the car, and then did it again and again. Garrett’s expression was cold fury as he let go of the stranger’s head. The man fell limp. Quickly, Garrett bent down and hauled him into the back seat, half on top of Jenna, half on the floor.
Jenna gave another scream against the rag and tried to push herself backward, away from the man’s body. Was he dead? Had Garrett killed him? He lay motionless across her legs, a weight that seemed to be far greater than it would have been in life. Blood started to seep across the new leather seats and she couldn’t see any sign of him breathing. Though in her head, she knew he was a victim, just like her, and that he’d been no more than an innocent man only moments before, her paranoia of germs went into overdrive. It was a body! A dead body touching her skin! Oh, God. She didn’t want the dead man anywhere near her.
“That was very stupid, little bitch,” Garrett spat, leaning into the back seat. “Very stupid indeed. You just got another person killed.”
Cut Too Deep Page 17
