Cut Too Deep(64)

Garrett yanked her back up and wrapped an arm around her waist and half-dragged, half-carried her toward the house. Abandoned on the doorstep was the length of wood she assumed Garrett had claimed he’d hit Ryker with.

Was she about to see Ryker’s body? She braced herself as best she could, but was preparing for her heart to shatter into so many pieces, she knew she’d never put it back together again.

He kicked open the front door and pulled her inside before shutting it behind them again. He dropped her, and she fell to the floor, her cheek and knees slamming against the rug.

Immediately she lifted her head, her heart thumping and nausea threatening to overwhelm her. She peered up the hallway, her eyes wide and gritty as she searched for any sign of Ryker’s body. Garrett said he’d hit Ryker just as he’d stepped out of the house, and then had dragged his body into the entrance hall, so wouldn’t he be here? Or had Garrett taken the time to stash the body somewhere and had failed to mention it during his recounting of the story?

But from the way Garrett stood looking around, with one hand on top of his head and a frown on his face, she thought perhaps he didn’t know either.

A surge of joy bubbled up inside her. Could it be true? Was Ryker still alive, and not only alive, but well enough to move from the hallway? At that moment, she didn’t care about her own safety. She hoped Ryker had managed to get the hell away from here and would stay away until Garrett had finished with her. She didn’t want there to be any chance of him being killed.

Her happiness at Ryker being alive filled her, and to her surprise, laughter swelled inside her and burst from her throat. The sound was muffled and choked by the dirty rag, but it didn’t stop her laughing. Not only was Ryker alive, but he’d left Garrett confused and annoyed, and in that moment nothing could beat it.

Garrett glared down at her. “What the hell are you doing?”

But she couldn’t stop the laughter. It consumed her, held her in its grip until her whole body shook and tears spilled down her face.

“What is it?” he demanded. “What the fuck do you think you’re laughing at?”

But she couldn’t answer him even if she wanted to; she still had a cloth stuffed in her mouth. For some reason, that made her laugh even harder, and she clamped her thighs together, suddenly frightened she’d wet herself.

“Jesus Christ,” he exclaimed, and leaned down to yank the cloth from her mouth. The material had glued to her tongue and the inside of her mouth, and it felt like he’d take a layer of skin off as he’d pulled out the rag, leaving her oral cavity red raw. The pain couldn’t dampen the relief she felt at not only knowing Ryker was alive, but having the rag removed as well. Finally, she could breathe through her mouth again, and she didn’t have that dirty thing pressed against her tongue.

“There. Now tell me what the hell you’re laughing at.”

She sniffed and blinked back the tears of laughter and pain. “I knew you wouldn’t have killed Ryker. I bet you didn’t even touch him.”

“I told you I did!”

“Yeah? Then where is he?”

He gestured to the floor not far from where she knelt. “He was right here.”

She smirked. “I don’t believe you.”

Garrett glared down at her, his body tensed, and she braced herself for another slap or punch, or maybe even a kick this time, but nothing came. His line of gaze had shifted away from her and onto the floor about a foot from her head.

“There!” He bent to the spot he’d been looking at, and reached out to touch his fingers to the rug. He lifted them back up and she saw they were stained with red. Her stomach dropped. So Garrett had hit Ryker, and hurt him too. “I told you I’d hit the fucker. Maybe he wasn’t dead, but he’s sure hurt bad enough. He couldn’t have gotten far.”

Garrett reached down and grabbed her by the upper arm again, dragging her along as he followed the trail of blood which led down the hallway. Her shoulder and arm screamed in pain, but she ignored it, more concerned with where Ryker might be.

He reached the living room door, lifted his foot and delivered a swift kick to the wood. The door slammed open with a bang, hitting the wall behind. “Yoo-hoo,” Garrett called in a fake female voice. “Where are you, honey? I’ve got someone here to see you.”

He let go of her arm in the doorway. She’d been pulled into the lounge enough to see that Ryker wasn’t lying in the middle of the room, or anywhere visible for that matter. Her gaze scoured the floor, trying to spot any more dark patches, droplets of blood that would lead a trail directly to wherever Ryker was hiding. But she couldn’t see anything in here. Either that meant he wasn’t bleeding badly enough to continue to leave traces—which she doubted considering the amount of blood in the hall—or else he hadn’t come this way.