Cut Too Deep(60)

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.