Cut Too Deep Read online

  CUT TOO DEEP

  Marissa Farrar

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  *You can click on the title to be taken to the selection. Additionally, clicking on the chapter titles will bring you back to the table of contents.

  One Year Earlier

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Also by the Author

  Copyright Information

  One Year Earlier

  Jenna Armstrong grabbed at the arm of the young man heading toward his car.

  “Please, Garrett, don’t drive home. You’ve been drinking.”

  The stench of booze washed over her in putrid waves, combined with stale cigarette smoke, and even the acrid stink of piss where he must have sprayed his shoes at some point during the evening. He’d always been a bad aim.

  He shook her off. “Don’t tell me what to do, you fat bitch. I’ve only had a couple.”

  Yeah, a couple of bottles of Jack.

  His words stung. She knew she wasn’t a skinny girl, far from it. But what were a few insults? She’d suffered a lot worse at Garrett’s hands. She knew she should leave him, but his comments about no one else loving someone her size stayed in her head. She was terrified if she lost him, she’d spend the rest of her life alone. But perhaps being alone would be better than being with Garrett. He did his best to put her down, to worm away at what small amount of self-confidence she had. Even on the odd occasion when she managed to lose a few pounds, he would catch her standing in front of the mirror and comment on how she’d only lost the weight from her tits.

  When she’d arrived home from work that evening, Garrett had told her he was taking her out. She’d been delighted, and dressed in jeans that hugged her ample curves and a floaty top to disguise the belly she was always conscious of. She’d thought they’d been going out for dinner, but instead he brought her to the run-down bar they were outside of now, and he’d told her to get a round in while he played on the gaming machines. She should have stopped buying him drinks over an hour ago, but when she suggested he’d had too much, he got nasty with her. She figured she’d just drive home, and he’d hopefully sleep it off. She hadn’t considered that he’d fight her about who would do the driving.

  “Please, Garrett. Just let me drive. It’s no big deal.” She could hear the whiny tone entering her voice and tried to stop herself. He hated it when she got whiny.

  “This is my fucking car, and I’ll drive it if I want to.”

  She needed to stand up to him. It wasn’t often she did, and, on the odd occasion when she had, she’d been rewarded by being shoved up against a wall, or having a fist balled in her face. He’d never gone as far as hitting her, but he’d threatened it often enough.

  Jenna reached out to snatch the keys from his hand, but he was surprisingly quick for someone who’d had so much to drink. He whisked them out of the way and held them above his head, out of her reach.

  He laughed, nastily. “You can’t get them now.”

  “You’ll get yourself or someone else killed if you try driving home. I mean it, Garrett.”

  “Shut the hell up. I’m fine. I know when I’ve had too much. You’re not my fucking mother. When did you turn into such a goddamned prude?”

  She’d finally had enough of his bullshit.

  Jenna put her hands on her hips. “You know what, Garrett? Go ahead. Drive yourself home. See if I care if you wrap the car around a light pole. I’m walking.”

  Even as she set off down the street, the guilt worked its way into her heart. What if he actually did have an accident? What if he hurt someone else in the process? She would never forgive herself. She needed to call the cops and report him. He would kill her—literally kill her—and their relationship would be over, but she couldn’t let him hurt himself or anyone else.

  She fished her cell from her pocket and lifted a finger to swipe the phone live, but a hand wrapped around her wrist, the thick fingers squeezing tight. Pain shot up through her arm, and reflexively her hand opened around the phone. It fell to the ground, the case splitting, the battery dropping out onto the sidewalk.

  Jenna barely managed to exclaim before her arm was wrenched behind her back and she found herself being frog-marched back to Garrett’s car. He twisted her around to face him and shoved her, so her back hit the metal shell of the car. Pain speared up her spine.

  “Who the fuck were you calling? Hope you didn’t think someone else would come pick you up.”

  “Garrett, just leave me alone. You’re hurting me.” She tried to pull her wrist free. She glanced down to where his fingers dug into her skin. His nails were too long, dirt encrusted beneath them. A sudden wave of nausea swept over her. Had she really let him touch her with those hands?

  “No fucking chance. You’re coming home with me, whether you like it or not.”

  He gave her another shove, as if to make his point, and then reached around her body to pull the passenger door open.

  A couple of guys came out of the bar to smoke, and though they glanced over to Jenna, they spoke between themselves rather than doing anything to intervene.

  “Get in the car,” Garrett hissed in her ear, alcohol and cigarettes washing over her.

  “No, you’re drunk!”

  His tone lowered to a menacing growl. “I said get in the fucking car.”

  She planted her feet and squared her shoulders, refusing to move, but though Garrett may have only had twenty pounds on her, weight-wise, he was hell of a lot stronger. Before she could fight back, she found herself being yanked forward, around the car door, and shoved into the passenger seat. He slammed the door behind her.

  Frantic, she threw herself across the seat, planning on climbing out of the driver’s side, but a clunk sounded from all four doors, and she realized he’d locked her in. Real fear pricked her heart, her skin crawling. How far was Garrett going to take this?

  His face suddenly appeared at the driver’s window, a crazed ‘surprise’ grin on his face, as if this were all one big game. The car’s central locking clicked open again, and Jenna turned from him and lunged back toward the passenger door. Her fingers grappled for the handle, and she just managed to crack the door open before Garrett was in the car with her. He grabbed her arm and yanked her back in again, and then reached across her and pulled the door shut. He pressed the button to lock all the doors.

  “Don’t want you getting any more stupid ideas, do we, bitch?”

  Though she didn’t want to cry in front of him, hot tears streamed down her cheeks. “Please, Garrett. Just let me out. We’ll both get a cab home and then we can talk about this.”

  “Talk about it?” he scoffed. “What the hell do I want to talk about?”

  She glanced back toward the bar, one final spark of hope that someone had seen what was happening and was coming to help, but the guys who had been smoking threw their cigarette butts down and ground them with their heels, before heading back into the bar. It must have been too dark for them to realize anyt
hing more than a couple’s spat was going on.

  No one was coming to help her.

  The engine thrummed to life around her, the headlights illuminating the area in front of the car. Garrett put his foot down, screeching out of the parking lot. The motion threw her to one side and then back again, and quickly she reached around and grabbed her seat belt. She pulled the strap across her breasts and clicked the metal clip into place.

  Jenna sat back in her seat, gripping the door with one hand and the edge of her seat with the other, her knuckles white. The bar where they’d been was located out of town, and Garrett sped along the empty road, his speed gradually increasing. Thirty miles an hour ... Forty miles an hour ... Fifty miles an hour …

  He hit sixty and barely slowly for a bend, causing her to grip her seat tighter.

  “Please, Garrett. Slow down.”

  He laughed. “No way. I’m having too much fun.” He took one hand off the wheel and reached down to grab the top of her thigh, giving her flesh an appreciative squeeze. “Aren’t you having fun, my little Jenny Wren?”

  “No, I’m not. You’re scaring me. Please slow down.” She used the only thing she had left. She forced a smile and placed her hand over the hand on her thigh. “If you get us home safely, I’ll show you how thankful I am.”

  He glanced over at her, and the sheer contempt in his eyes made her heart lurch. He pulled his hand away, and she was at least relieved that he put it back on the steering wheel.

  “You’ll be thankful to me when I tell you to be thankful to me. Got it?”

  “Whatever you say, Garrett. Just watch the road, please!”

  The headlights were on full glare, lighting the road ahead with an almost supernatural hue.

  A car headed toward them from the opposite direction. The driver flashed his lights a couple of times to tell Garrett to dip his headlights, but Garrett only laughed and flipped the driver the finger. They were getting closer to town now. The apartment they shared was near downtown. He would have to slow down before he reached the built up area or the cops would be on him in an instant.

  Tears poured down her face, her shoulders and neck tense, her eyes wide. Her heart beat too hard in her chest, and her terror made her nauseated. Her breath came in panicky snatches, gulping down air in between frightened sobs.

  Movement suddenly darted in front of them, and before she could react, Garrett slammed on the brakes. The car went into a skid, throwing Jenna to one side, her seatbelt locking across her chest.

  She caught sight of the white flick of a deer’s tail as it made it safely across the road. The car began to slow and she breathed a sigh of relief. They hadn’t hit the deer. Despite Garrett being way over the legal limit, he’d managed to control the car.

  Headlights blazed on the road, coming around the bend toward them.

  Oh, shit. They were in the wrong lane.

  “Garrett, move!” she screamed.

  But the huge eighteen-wheeler bore down on them, not even slowing. The driver hadn’t seen the car skewed across the wrong side of the dark country road.

  The headlights grew bigger and brighter in the passenger window. Jenna sat, frozen in fear, as the truck hit the car side on.

  The screech of metal bending and twisting filled her ears. The white light so bright it obscured her vision.

  And she knew nothing more.

  Chapter One

  “Shit, shit, shit.”

  Jenna banged her fists on the steering wheel, punctuating each swear word.

  The strange rattling her old Honda had been making for the last couple of days had finally caused the car come to a halt. She’d managed to pull the vehicle over before it stalled on her, but now she was stuck God-knew where with no way of getting on the move again.

  She cursed herself for trying to save a few pennies and not getting the breakdown coverage on her insurance. She should have known she’d end up needing it, especially considering her car was more than ten years old and currently covered hundreds of miles a week.

  Sitting back in her seat, she let out a sigh. First thing she needed to do was figure out where the hell she was. She’d not planned on stopping for at least another fifty miles or so, and so hadn’t paid attention to which towns were located on this route.

  A sign was positioned on the road up ahead. She craned her neck forward, squinting, trying to read it.

  Arlington, three miles.

  She’d never heard of the place before. It was bound to be a tiny hick-town, but as long as it had a garage, she couldn’t complain.

  Jenna glanced over her shoulder at her belongings piled in the back seat. Her clothes were strewn everywhere. Take-out boxes, empty candy wrappers, and plastic soda bottles littered the passenger foot well. Though most of the time germs made her nervous, for some reason the car felt like her own personal space, somewhere infections from the outside world couldn’t enter. While she always used disinfectant wipes if someone else touched the car for any reason, her own mess didn’t bother her.

  Two thoughts entered her mind: did she intend on abandoning all her worldly belongings on the side of the road while she walked to the next town, and was she really going to let a mechanic see the God-awful mess her car was in? She wasn’t about to start clearing the interior up now, but she couldn’t leave all of her belongings here. While she didn’t own much, leaving her laptop in the car wasn’t even an option. She could survive without everything else, but her laptop was her means for survival, and if she didn’t have the piece of equipment, she didn’t work. If she didn’t work, she didn’t eat, and in Jenna’s mind that was as bad as not living at all.

  She sighed again and reached across the seat to gather her laptop bag and purse. The rest of her stuff would have to stay. At least she was wearing sneakers, so she wouldn’t have to worry about getting blisters on the walk.

  Jenna pulled her long, dark curls into a hair-band and secured it so her hair was out of her face. She opened the car door and climbed out, pulling her bags out with her. Slinging them over her shoulder, she started the walk into town.

  Within ten minutes, she found herself huffing and puffing. Her bags seemed to double in weight with every step she took. She wasn’t one for hitting the gym, and the extra pounds on her body, combined with her aversion to exercise, meant her hips and knee joints were starting to ache. The three miles suddenly felt like a ridiculously long distance.

  A couple of cars drove by and she considered sticking out her thumb. But the chance of any of them heading to the next town was pretty remote. Most continued along the highway. She walked down the side of the exit ramp, following the sign for Arlington. The day was overcast, but still warm, and sweat began to form beneath her arms and drip into her cleavage. Her footsteps grew heavy, and the insides of her thighs started to rub.

  The roar of an engine approached from behind. She glanced back to see a flatbed Ford truck start to slow as it reached her. The truck was old—at least 1970s—but was in immaculate condition, the red paintwork shiny.

  Jenna hesitated, unsure if she should pretend she hadn’t noticed and keep walking, or if she should turn and flag the truck down. They were on the two lane road leading to Arlington now, and the truck was headed in the right direction.

  She hoisted her bags into a more comfortable position, her back groaning in response. Sweat ran from her hairline and into her eyes, stinging. Damn it. She’d only walked about a mile, and the thought of doing twice that again made up her mind.

  Plastering on her most winning smile, and hoping whoever was driving didn’t notice her sweaty face and dark patches on her t-shirt, she turned with a hand held out.

  The driver had already begun to signal and pull in toward her. She hoped she hadn’t just flagged down a mass murderer or rapist. She was only too aware of the dangers that faced a woman alone on the road, though people she’d known had caused her more harm than a stranger ever had.

  The truck stopped just ahead, and Jenna broke into a slow run to reach it,
hoping she didn’t stumble over the gravel, clumps of weeds, and potholes on the side of the road. She accidentally kicked an empty soda can and sent it skittering across the asphalt.

  She reached the truck to find the passenger window already down.

  Her heart stuttered as she peered in. A young man, in his mid-twenties, around her age, she guessed, sat in the driver’s seat. A well-muscled forearm covered in tattoos was slung over the steering wheel as he twisted to face her. The tattoos continued up his arm and vanished beneath the sleeve of his form-fitting white t-shirt. His hair was disheveled and a little too long, and she noticed some more tattoos creeping up his broad neck and a small silver ring embedded in his earlobe. His square jaw was scruffy with stubble, his lips full. When he opened his mouth to speak, his teeth were straight and white, and she caught sight of a tiny flash of silver on his tongue.

  Jeez, where the hell else is this guy pierced?

  The thought made the heat in her cheeks deepen.

  “Hey,” the guy said. “You need a ride?”

  She couldn’t decide if she should tell him no and keep walking, or accept and climb in his lap. This guy was everything her mother—when she’d been alive—had warned her about. But his eyes were a brilliant, piercing blue, and though he looked like trouble, his smile was soul-meltingly cute.

  “Umm, yeah. My car broke down on the highway. I need to get to the next town to find a mechanic.”

  He grinned. “You don’t need to get to the next town.”

  “Oh?” He’d flustered her. “I don’t?”

  “Nah, you’ve got one sitting right here.”

  She blinked in surprise. “You’re a mechanic?”

  “Sure am. How far back is your vehicle?”

  “About a mile south on the highway.”

  He reached over to open the passenger door for her, and she tried not to stare at the numerous tattoos, or the way the muscles in his forearm tensed as he pushed open the door. “Jump on in.”

  Jenna carefully placed her bags in the foot well and then climbed into the truck. She resisted the urge to get her antibacterial wipes from her bag and wipe down any area she might have to touch. She needed to be careful of germs. Plus, other people driving always made her nervous—she normally avoided it at all costs—and the person doing the driving on this occasion didn’t help.