Cut Too Deep(67)

She glanced down at her bound hands and feet. “Seriously?”

His eyes narrowed again and then he turned and walked from the room. Jenna glanced anxiously at Ryker, trying to tell if he was conscious or not. She didn’t know what Garrett was doing, and didn’t dare say anything in case this was a trick, and he was listening in. But she heard him moving about in the kitchen, and then his heavy footfalls passed along the hallway, moving from one end of the house to the other.

What the hell was he doing?

She glanced back at Ryker, and opened her mouth to hiss his name, but the door opened again and she clamped her mouth shut. Garrett stood holding a knife he must have taken from the kitchen, the silver, shiny blade at least six inches long.

She froze. Oh shit.

He crouched down to her, the knife pointed toward her. Jenna’s heart rate stepped up a notch, her breathing increasing to match it. She shook her head. “Don’t do it. I’ll behave, I promise.”

“Yes, you will. I’ve just locked both the front door and back, and I have the keys on me, so no one is getting in or out of this place, got it?”

And he reached down and slid the blade between her wrists and cut open the tape that had been binding them. Jenna let out a gasp of relief, and rubbed at her sore wrists, wriggling her fingers to get the feeling back into them. Garrett repeated the process with her feet and she was finally able to circle her stiff ankles.

He pointed the knife at her. “Don’t try anything, or I’ll stick this straight between your ribs, got it?”

She nodded obediently.

“Good.” He jerked his chin over at Ryker. “You’ve got to help me move him.”

Realization set in. Garrett wasn’t freeing her out of the goodness of his heart, he just needed help moving Ryker.

Jenna got to her feet, testing her balance and making sure everything still worked as it should. Her head ached, and her muscles were sore from being in the same position for so long, but otherwise she was unharmed. She wished she could say the same for Ryker.

“Come on then,” Garrett said. “Time’s a-ticking.”

They crouched, one each side of his body, and slung one of Ryker’s arm over each of their shoulders.

“One, two, three,” counted Garrett.

And they lifted Ryker between them.

Jenna was strong, and her size helped. If she was the kind of petite waif she’d always wanted to be, he’d have crushed her. As they lifted him, his head fell forward onto his chest. His body was limp and a dead weight. Jenna knew with certainty that the moment of consciousness he’d experienced had only been fleeting. Ryker was definitely unconscious again. They struggled between them to carry him out of the door and into the hallway, Ryker’s feet dragging behind him. Jenna held Ryker close, one arm around his waist, holding him tight, hoping he could feel her love and compassion in her touch. She turned her face to the side briefly, to place her nose and mouth against the side of his neck. She took comfort in the warmth of his skin, the scent of him, in the pulse still throbbing through his veins.

By the time they reached the bottom of the staircase, her back was protesting, her arm muscles shaking with exertion, and they still needed to get him up the stairs. Garrett clutched the knife in one hand, making his hold on Ryker unstable. Jenna was terrified he’d lose his grip and Ryker would end up tumbling back down the stairs. Maybe she’d done the wrong thing by getting Garrett to move him, made the wrong choice yet again? If Ryker was killed because of something she’d done, she’d beg Garrett to kill her as well.

They mounted the first stair and then the next. The thought of Ryker falling suddenly turned in on its self. What if it wasn’t Ryker who fell, she wondered, but Garrett?

She risked glancing past Ryker, toward Garrett’s hand which still clutched the knife. He grunted and gasped as they hauled Ryker up more of the steps. He would be out of breath and distracted. Could she grab the knife and plunge it into his chest hard enough to push him down the stairs? She imagined the blade becoming wedged deeper and deeper into his body as he tumbled from stair to stair, to land at the bottom in a bloodied heap.

But she couldn’t risk it. Any attempt to push Garrett would result in Ryker falling as well. She didn’t think he’d survive another blow to the head.

Jenna restrained her urge to jump for Garrett’s knife, and instead lowered her head and concentrated on getting to the top of the stairs. Ryker was growing heavier with every step and showed no sign of regaining consciousness.

They reached the top of the stairs and stopped to regain their breath.

“Keep going,” Garrett growled. “I assume the biggest bedroom is his.”