Cut Too Deep Page 7

  Jenna sniffed, wiped her face, and clambered to her feet. She went to the telephone on the desk, dialed reception, and asked for the number to the pizza place on Fore Street that Ryker had recommended. The guy on reception said he’d put her through, so she waited, listening to the ring of the phone until someone picked up.

  “Gianni’s,” a bright, female voice chirped.

  “Hi, can I place an order, please?”

  “Take out or delivery?”

  “Delivery. I’m at the Sunshine Motor Lodge in town. Room twelve.”

  There was a pause as the girl on the other end typed in her address, then she said, “Sure. What can I get you?”

  “I don’t have a menu, but I’d like a meat feast, double cheese, on thin pan, and then a side of chicken wings, and some dips.”

  “No problem. Can I get you any drinks or desserts?”

  Jenna hated herself even as she said it, “Sure. A bottle of pop, and a tub of ice cream. Chocolate, if you have it.”

  “Sure do, ma’am. Is that everything?”

  “Yeah, thanks. I’ll pay cash on delivery.”

  “Your order will be with you in about twenty minutes.”

  Jenna hung up and went to sit on the bed and wait. Just the thought of the warm, gooey cheese, and the filling pizza base was enough to get her mouth watering. This was her comfort—like being wrapped in a fat soaked, carbohydrate infested hug that would never let her down. Even though she’d only just sworn to herself that she’d get thin, she had nothing else in her life. Nothing else gave her pleasure the way food did. But she was punishing herself as well as trying to make herself feel better. She knew the pizza and ice cream weren’t good for her, but she couldn’t help herself.

  Anyway, before the accident, she’d been on every diet around. She jumped on each new fad that emerged and stayed with it for a couple of weeks, and lost a few pounds. Then the bad habits would start creeping in, and soon enough that particular diet would be forgotten, and the pounds she’d lost would pile back on, together with a few more for good measure. The truth was, she just loved good food and wine—hell, it didn’t even need to be that great! Eating meals was one thing she could structure her day around and look forward to. Without them, her life would be even more miserable than it already was.

  But you might have Ryker here, a little voice piped up in her head.

  No, she wouldn’t. She couldn’t keep blaming everything on her weight. Her life was way more complicated than a few extra pounds.

  A knock on the door sounded and she hopped from the bed, eager to get her delivery. The guy standing in front of the door handed her a warm pizza box, the tang of pepperoni and warm dough seeping through the cardboard to meet her. She handed him some bills, as he passed her over a bag containing the sides and dessert.

  “Thanks. Keep the change.”

  She gently closed the door and carried the items over to the desk like sacred possessions. Opening the pizza box, she inhaled the scent of fried food and felt like she was home. The chicken wings were just right; enough crunch to the skin without being overly greasy, and the pizza dough was light, with pepperoni, ham, sausage, and meatballs on top. She used the dips to dunk the crusts into, relishing every mouthful.

  When all that was left was a greasy smear on the bottom of the cardboard box, she poured herself a soda and took the ice cream tub from the bag. She had a couple of teaspoons with the coffee and kettle the motel supplied, so she took them to the bathroom sink and scrubbed them to make sure they were clean. Then she carried the spoons and tub to the bed and settled her laptop in front of her.

  The ice cream was just how she liked it, melted around the edges of the tub, so she started there and worked her way inward.

  Ryker was right. Gianni’s did great food.

  She pushed away the painful surge the thought of Ryker had generated. She needed to forget she’d ever met him. That was the only way she’d get through this. It was going to be hard getting her car back and having to see him again, but perhaps she could ask if the other guy—Sam—could handle it?

  Jenna imagined how hurt Ryker would be if she didn’t even want to see him long enough to say goodbye, and knew she’d never be able to make such a request.

  With a stomach full of food and a carb overdose, combined with the early start and all the emotion of the day, Jenna found she struggled to keep her eyes open. She pushed everything littering the bed to the floor and curled up on her side, pulling the blankets over her body.

  Within two minutes, she was asleep.

  ***

  She was back outside of the bar again.

  A couple of guys were lit by a yellow glow flooding from the bar doorway, their faces obscured by the cloud of smoke from their cigarettes. Help! She wanted to call to them. Help me! But when she opened her mouth no sound came out.

  Instead, she found herself unwillingly turning to face the vehicle in which she had almost died. It was as if she were on a revolving platform and it swiveled around to position her in front of the car door. Her hand reached out and opened the door.

  No, stop it. Don’t get in there!

  But she didn’t seem to have any control over her body. She slid into the seat, settling herself behind the wheel.

  You can’t drive! You’ve been drinking!

  No, no I haven’t. But she was confused. Have I? She couldn’t taste alcohol, but she might have had a glass of wine or two. Was that enough to put her over the limit?

  Whether she had or not, she found the key in the ignition and turned it, the car rumbling to life. Garrett is going to be furious when he finds out I’ve taken his car. Yet she was incapable of doing anything else.

  She put the car into gear and started to drive out of the parking lot. She craned her neck, staring helplessly at the two men standing outside of the bar. I know them, she thought. I know who they are now. Yet she couldn’t remember their names or the reason why she knew them.

  She took the same road into town where she’d been in the accident, helpless to do anything other than follow the same route.

  I don’t want to be here. It’s going to happen again.

  Movement came from behind her. Someone leaned over the back seat and spoke against the back of her head. “You know you’re about to die, right?”

  Garrett!

  Jenna froze, her fingers tight around the steering wheel, her knuckles white. Her heart pounded and her breath came in short gasps.

  No, she wanted to say. I don’t die. I don’t!

  A second figure leaned forward, over the back of the passenger seat, his forearms locked around the headrest, his fingers casually linked together. She recognized the pattern of tattoos covering his skin, the thick silver ring on his finger.

  “The fat bitch deserves to die,” Ryker said, humor in his tone. “She’s so fucking dumb.”

  No, that isn’t you talking, Ryker. That was Garrett’s voice. The things he used to say.

  “Yeah,” laughed Garrett. “Stupidest fat bitch I’ve ever met.”

  The headlights of the car illuminated the dark road. The trees either side appeared to create a tunnel through which she sped.

  “Faster, little bitch,” Garrett spat in her ear. “You might as well end it. No one is ever going to love you anyway.”

  That’s not true.

  But even as she thought the words, her foot pressed harder on the gas and the car sped up. From the back seat, the two men laughed as if they were in on the world’s biggest joke. The road tore by, faster and faster, and the bend approached. She desperately wanted to lift her foot off the gas and slam on the brake, but she was frozen in position.

  Garrett leaned forward again and the laughter died off. He spoke low and menacing in her ear.

  “I’m coming to find you, bitch. You won’t escape me this time.”

  ***

  She jolted upright to the sound of her cell phone ringing. Her face felt wet and tight, a sob building in her chest, even as she exhaled the cry. She
pressed the balls of her hands into her eyes, trying to anchor herself in the real world and allow the nightmare to fade.

  The ringing phone was insistent.

  Jenna took another breath and reached out for her cell. The thought it might be Ryker calling flashed through her head, but the dream was still too present in her mind, and the idea sent a shiver racing through her.

  But when the screen flashed in the late evening gloom, it was Detective Nick Harlem’s name that was showing.

  A deepening sense of dread settled in her gut.

  She answered the call, “Hello.”

  “Jenna, hi, it’s Nick.”

  She exhaled a breath and closed her eyes briefly, trying to get a hold on her emotions. “Hi, Nick,” she managed, though her voice was shaky. “Don’t take this badly, but I can’t say it’s good to hear from you.”

  “No offense taken. I can’t say I’m too happy about calling you either.”

  “So, what’s going on?”

  “I don’t want you to panic, Jenna, but I felt you had a right to know.”

  She clenched her fist. “Just tell me.”

  “Garrett didn’t turn up to his parole meeting today.”

  The news didn’t surprise her. She’d never once imagined Garrett sticking to any rules they’d dished out to him upon leaving jail. As soon as he’d found his freedom, he’d have started his search for her. Garrett was single-minded, and he wouldn’t give a shit if someone told him to be somewhere at a particular time.

  “Jenna? You still there?”

  She shook herself from her thoughts. “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “Listen to me. It’s only a parole meeting. He could have gotten drunk and fallen asleep and missed it. It’s nothing to panic about. I just wanted to be upfront with you.”

  She spoke, but her voice sounded distant. “Thanks, Nick. I appreciate that.”

  “Okay.” He hesitated. “Well, stay safe, okay? And call me if you need anything.”

  “Thanks, Nick. Bye.”

  She hung up and put her head back in her hands. She’d never been more sure of anything in her life.

  Garrett was coming to find her.

  Chapter Nine

  Jenna lifted her head from her hands. She couldn’t achieve anything sitting around feeling sorry for herself all night. She needed to do what she’d always done, and that was run. But how was she supposed to get on the move when she had no vehicle to do so?

  Tomorrow. All she had to do was wait until tomorrow. Another twenty-four hours and she’d be out of here.

  She forced herself to think rationally. If Garrett had only just missed a parole meeting, the chances of him having found her by now were slim. Yes, she’d been sensing him around, but that was only to be expected, given the knowledge that his release date had been approaching. Even though he’d gotten out early, the fact Nick Harlem had reported him missing a parole meeting must mean someone was keeping an eye on Garrett. It’s not as if he’d be able to board a plane. He’d have to hitch a ride, or steal a car—neither of which were easy options.

  She pictured Ryker holding the bird, its tiny, frail body so limp in his hands. Had it been a wren, or had she been projecting? She saw a wren in her head, but mistrusted her own memory. Could it have been something as common as a sparrow? And the bang against the motel door could easily have been someone returning drunk and bumping into her door.

  Chances were, Garrett was hundreds of miles away.

  Her impromptu daytime nap had left her wide awake. If only she’d not been so vile to Ryker; he could be here right now, blessing her with that sexy smile of his, pushing his sleeves up his tattooed arms and giving her that knowing look that made her melt. She glanced over at her cell, wondering if she should call him. Her fingers tingled with her desire to do so, but she clenched her hands into fists, holding herself back. Even if Garrett wasn’t here yet, he would be soon, she didn’t doubt it. Calling Ryker would be utterly selfish. She would see him the next day to pay him for the work he’d done and retrieve her car. Then she’d be free to leave.

  The thought of leaving and never seeing Ryker again caused fresh tears to well up inside her. He was the first good thing to have entered her life in such a long time, and the idea of having to leave him behind made her angry, bitter, and resentful. Garrett was still ruining her life, even a year after the last time she’d seen the man.

  For the briefest of moments, she considered staying and letting Garrett catch up to her. She could prepare herself, maybe find a gun from somewhere, and lie in wait for him. He’d never expect her to turn from the hunted to the hunter. Except she’d never fired a gun in her life, and she was sure she’d read a statistic somewhere about being twenty-two times more likely to be shot if you owned a gun. She’d probably end up shooting herself, or Garrett would just take the gun off her and shoot her with it himself. Anyway, getting a weapon involved waiting times and handing over identification—neither of which she intended doing—and she had no idea where to get an illegal weapon.

  No, she needed to stick to the plan. Don’t make any connections, don’t leave a trace of herself, and keep moving.

  With her mind made up, and to keep her thoughts and temptations away from calling Ryker, she settled back on the bed with her laptop. She had a couple of product descriptions she needed to write, which would keep her busy for a few hours, and then she’d try to sleep.

  ***

  The next morning, she stripped the bed, packed up her belongings, and checked out of the motel. The town was already swelling with people arriving for the annual tomato festival. An air of joviality had filled the place, and she caught sight of stalls setting up all down Main Street, and banners being strung from building to building.

  With the feeling of exhaustion and fear she’d learned to live with still sitting on her shoulders, she hauled her bags down the street. She’d had a restless night, partly because she had slept during the day, but also because her mind hadn’t allowed her a moment’s peace.

  People nodded their good mornings to her as she walked through town, not totally sure where she was heading. The hour was way too early for Ryker to be done with her car yet.

  Her stomach told her breakfast was on the agenda.

  What was the harm in heading back to the place where Ryker had found her yesterday? The ambiance of the little coffee shop had been pleasant enough, and the coffee and doughnut had been good. Plus, the place had been quiet so she’d not needed to worry about too many people watching her eat.

  But if she was totally honest, she had to admit she was hoping Ryker would find her again.

  With her mind made up, she walked the couple of blocks toward the coffee shop. Pushing open the door, the scent of coffee and bacon hit her nostrils, causing her stomach to growl in anticipation.

  Jenna ordered coffee, together with the bacon, scrambled eggs, waffles, and maple syrup, and then sat, juggling her cell phone in one hand. She could call him, couldn’t she? Just to check the parts had come in and he was working on the car? She used her teeth to worry at a piece of loose skin on her lower lip and continued to stare at the phone.

  To her surprise, the screen suddenly lit up, and she dropped the cell to the table. She’d already programmed in Ryker’s number from the slip of paper he’d left her the day before, and his name flashed up. Quickly, she scrabbled for the phone and hit the answer button.

  “Hi,” she said, trying to sound breezy.

  “Hey, Jenna. How are you doing?”

  The sound of his voice made her heart flutter and swell inside her chest. She pressed her cheek to the phone.

  “I’m fine. Any news on my car?”

  He hesitated, and then said, “I’m at the garage right now.”

  “I hope you’re going to tell me my car is ready.”

  “Hey, listen … I’m sorry, but the parts are still in transit. They won’t get here till tomorrow at the earliest.”

  “You’re kidding me? I thought they’d be in for toda
y.”

  “I said today at the earliest.”

  Her stomach dropped in dismay. “What the hell am I supposed to do now? I’ve checked out of the motel, and they’re fully booked. And the town is full of people, I’ll never find anywhere else.”

  Could she buy a new car? The idea was tempting but she was low on funds, and if she spent all her money, she wouldn’t be able to buy gas, or more importantly food and a roof over her head. She was stuck.

  “Shit, shit, shit.”

  She placed the hand not holding the phone against her brow and rubbed her forehead to try to relieve the building pressure. Panic started to mount inside her and she forced herself to take a couple of deep, relaxing breaths.

  Ryker’s voice came down the line. “Jenna? Jenna, are you okay?”

  She made herself focus. “Yes. I’m just worried, that’s all.”

  His tone was firm. “Where are you?”

  “In the coffee place we met at yesterday.”

  “Okay. Stay where you are. I’ll come to you.”

  She wanted to tell him not to come, but he’d already hung up and she didn’t have the emotional reserve to call him back and argue with him about coming. She had a feeling he’d ignore her anyway, and it wasn’t as if she had anywhere else to go.

  Her order arrived, steaming hot and dripping in grease and syrup, but her appetite had fled. Instead of eating, she sipped at the coffee and stared out of the window, watching anxiously for Ryker.

  Within ten minutes, his truck pulled up at the curb outside. Her stomach flipped with nerves and excitement. Even though he’d let her down with the parts for the car, and she’d told herself they had no future, she couldn’t help but be thrilled when he was around. He jumped from the truck, slamming the door behind him. He looked like he was going to cause trouble; the scruffy dark hair, the tattoos and piercings, the black clothing, but she knew there was kindness behind those brooding blue eyes.

  He glanced up as he walked toward the door and caught her eye. Their gazes locked and he gave her a tiny smile that she knew was meant just for her. Something inside her tightened, leaving her breathless.