She shook her head. “I wasn’t. I only made a suggestion, that’s all. This floor is cold and I don’t want to be lying on it any longer than I have to be.”
He leaned down to her, putting his face in hers. She could make out the dark globs of crusted blood in his nostrils from where she’d head-butted him, and beneath his eyes were already turning a dark blue-purple. Though the dried blood turned her stomach, she took some satisfaction that she’d at least managed to hurt him.
“Lying on a cold floor is going to be the least of your worries.”
She glanced away and stayed quiet, letting him make his own decision. She prayed he’d make the right one. Getting them both upstairs would take time, hopefully long enough for Ryker to regain consciousness and save them both.
Garrett straightened and sighed again, his mouth twisted in indecision. Finally, he spoke. “Right. I’m going to check upstairs and find out where the bedroom is. I don’t want you pulling any tricks on me. You wait for me here, and don’t try anything!”
“My arms and legs are bound together. What the hell am I going to try?”
He gave her a slight shake of his head before turning around and leaving the room, pulling the door shut behind him. Jenna waited long enough to hear his footsteps thumping up the stairs, and then she got moving. She wriggled across the floor like a caterpillar toward Ryker. The movement was hard, and quickly left her panting from the effort. Her heart tripped its beat, her pulse thumping. Her face still pounded from where Garrett had hit her, but she did her best to ignore any discomfort. She focused only on getting to Ryker.
She edged closer to where Ryker sat, his feet stuck out in front of him, his shoulders slouched, his chin on his chest. The amount of blood in his hairline worried her, but his chest rose and fell with steady breaths. She kept her ears strained for the sound of feet approaching, and then used the wall Ryker was propped up against as support to push herself up to sitting.
“Ryker,” she said, low and urgent. “Ryker, baby, it’s Jenna. You have to wake up.”
His eyelids fluttered, and she used her shoulder to shove his. His head rocked and then fell forward again, and she felt sick at the sight of more blood dribbling from his hairline and down into his eyes. But his eyes opened and he lifted a hand to dazedly wipe the blood away.
Her heart soared, adrenaline pumping through her veins. “Oh, God, Ryker, it’s me. Can you hear me? He’s going to be back any minute.”
He turned his head in her direction, his brow furrowed. Though he looked at her, he didn’t quite make eye contact.
He’s concussed, she thought. Badly, too.
“Jenna,” he managed, his voice a croak. “I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.”
She shook her head. “Hey, there’s no time for that now. He’s here. Can you walk?”
He shook his head and winced. “I don’t know. I’m real dizzy.”
“Listen to me. Pretend you haven’t woken up yet, okay? Don’t let him know. He’s going to take us upstairs, but don’t do anything until you know we have some kind of advantage, and we can take him out. It’s our only chance.”
“Why is he taking us upstairs?”
She heard footsteps thumping down the hallway.
“Shh. He’s coming back. Just keep your eyes shut!”
With that, she threw herself away from him, trying to land in the same position she’d been in when Garrett had left the room. She jarred her shoulder, pain making her bite her lip to stop herself from crying out. Quickly, she glanced back over at Ryker. His eyes had slipped shut again.
Was he pretending, or had he fallen unconscious again?
The laundry room door cracked open again, making Jenna jump. Garrett’s figure appeared in the doorway, and she felt herself shrivel with revulsion. What would she do if he actually did rape her? She’d never be the same person again, assuming she lived through the ordeal.
No, don’t think about it, she ordered herself. Focus on figuring out a way to get out of this mess.
Garrett crossed the room to stand above Ryker. He stuck out his foot and shoved Ryker in the leg. Jenna held her breath in anticipation, but Ryker didn’t respond.
Garrett leaned down and grabbed Ryker by the top of the arm, intending, Jenna assumed, to lift him in the same fireman’s lift he’d used to carry her out of the garage, but as he tried to straighten, he grunted and swore.
“Fuck!”
Jenna repressed a smile. Garrett was tall and wiry, but he was nowhere near strong enough to carry someone with Ryker’s muscular physique.
He turned to her. “You’re going to have to help me.”