Cut Too Deep(62)

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.”