Mr. Sugar: A disturbing psychological thriller with a twist of dark romance

by L. D. Fox

  If there was one thing Bryce held in the highest respect, it was his reputation as an adjuster.

  Then again… it was Saturday. He wouldn’t have driven here hopped up like that — the roads were too treacherous — so he might have argued to himself that it was perfectly fine to indulge when he arrived.

  Base.

  Home run.

  He thought he was safe here, that nothing could touch him. No one.

  Except Drew.

  And, according to Bryce, Drew was an irritation more than a deterrent. He could handle Drew.

  A smile flitted onto his mouth as he watched his brother barge into the kitchen and demand Angel pour him a cup of coffee.

  He thought he could handle Drew. But, if this weekend was anything, it was going to prove that Bryce didn’t know him at all. That he’d been underestimating his bro for years. Possibly, since they’d been squeezed from the same contaminated womb, forty-six fucking years ago.

  He smiled, turning that same, vague smile onto Kelly when her fingers brushed his arm.

  “Can you look at my car now?”

  “After breakfast, sweetheart.” Drew grabbed her hand, twining his fingers through hers. “After breakfast.”

  * * *

  Breakfast was a sullen, quiet affair. They all sat around the dining table — pine, like the walls, but varnished a deep, golden brown — the only sound the clink and scrape of their cutlery on the crockery.

  Angel’s bacon and goat cheese frittata was astounding — even Bryce cleaned his plate — but it seemed incapable of permeating the fog-like introspection that clung to everyone seated at the table.

  Kelly finished before anyone else, and set her knife and fork down on the center of her plate, sitting with her hands crossed until Drew bumped her knee under the table.

  “Clearly, you’re itching to be out of here,” he said as he stood. “Let’s look at your car.”

  “What’s wrong with your car?” Bryce asked.

  “If I knew, I wouldn’t still be here,” Kelly snapped and then sighed. “I don’t know. Drew said he’d take a look.”

  “Yup.” Drew rose to his feet.

  Kelly glanced down at his plate. “But you’re still busy—”

  “Wouldn’t want you to think I’m holding you hostage,” he muttered.

  Going into the kitchen, he rummaged through one of the storage cupboards and got out his toolbox. Juliet had always insisted they keep one around — that and a first aid kit — for those unexpected emergencies.

  Like someone’s car unexpectedly breaking down.

  If he hadn’t been so concerned with someone spotting him last night, then he’d have had it up there instead of a mallet and a carving fork. It would have gone faster, for sure. Perhaps even avoided him putting a crick in his neck.

  Kelly’s eyes flashed to the toolbox, then back up to his face as he came past the dining room table.

  “Need a hand?” Bryce called after him, standing.

  “Got it.”

  “Sure? It’s been forever since I’ve gotten—”

  “Which means you’d be useless.”

  When he glanced back, Bryce had his head cocked to the side, jaw working despite his empty plate. His brother shrugged and sat down again, tapping the side of Angel’s thigh with his knuckles.

  “Rebuilt a Mustang, once. Sold it for twenty kay. That was a fortune, back in the day.”

  “What’s a Mustang?” she asked, taking a swig of coffee as her eyes darted up to Drew where he stood staring at Bryce. He hurried to the door, tugged it open, and almost slammed it closed in Kelly’s face.

  “Sorry,” she said, holding out her hand as if she was scared he’d try and shut the door again. “Thought I’d…”

  “Stay here.” He gave the toolbox a small shake, rattling the things inside it. “I’ve got this.”

  “Sure?”

  “Yup. Unless you’ve been inside an engine more recently than Bryce? No?” He tugged the door closed and waited for a few seconds, ready to push Kelly back inside if she still wanted to follow him. It wasn’t like she’d know the inside of an engine if it bit her on the ass and held on, but he wasn’t taking any chances. He couldn’t afford to take any, not with Bryce hopped up on coke and Angel acting all moody and weird.

  If his plan was going to work, everything had to go smoothly. If it didn’t, he’d call the whole thing off.

  Hopefully, he’d left himself enough wiggle room that he’d be able to back out right up to the point where he — figuratively — pulled the trigger.

  A smile crept onto his mouth as he trudged up the steps toward Kelly’s car.

  42

  A Weekend of Firsts

  “He’s been out there an awfully long time,” said Kelly.

  Bryce looked up at her, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners as if he was about to laugh. But, instead, he just shrugged and dealt another hand of cards.

  Kelly snuggled into the blanket, tugging it up to her shoulders again.

  She hadn’t realized it was going to be so cold here; just after Drew had left to go and fix her car, she’d stepped onto the deck to enjoy the early morning air. Except, it had been anything other than enjoyable. The wind that sniffed around her like a strange dog was brisk and cut through her clothing with barely any effort. It was beautiful, but it was easy enough to see the lake from Bryce’s bedroom window.

  Which was where they were.

  And, which wasn’t as weird as she’d thought it would be. Maybe punching Bryce had gone some way to resolving her issues with him because when he’d asked her if she wanted to join him and Angel for a game of cards, she’d only hesitated a few seconds before agreeing.

  Although, the thought of getting under a warm blanket probably played a large part in that yes.

  “Gin!” Angel said, laying down her cards.

  “Are you serious?” Bryce snapped, snatching up her cards and glaring at them as if they’d done him some personal injustice. “What the fuck’s wrong with my shuffling that you keep getting gin on the first damn hand?”

  “I’m awesome like that,” Angel said. “Another round?”

  “Christ, no. It used to be fun,” Bryce muttered, shoving the cards unceremoniously back into their box. “Don’t know about you, peaches, but I’m sick of having my ass handed to me by a little girl.”

  Kelly smiled, blushed when she realized Angel was glaring at her — good-naturedly enough, but regardless — and turned to get out of the bed.

  Angel grabbed her wrist. “You’re going? We can play something else. Scrabble? Charades? I saw some really ancient board games in the cupboard, we could—”

  “I want to check up on Drew. He’s been out there forever,” she said, shaking her hand loose.

  “It’s been like thirty minutes. He’ll be fine.” Bryce twisted around and leaned over the side of the bed, wrestling with something that sounded like a bag. “Besides, who’s going to keep me and Angel busy if you leave?” Bryce stuck his head up for a moment, dark eyes twinkling with mischief. “In case you haven’t noticed, Drew doesn’t like it when I’m left alone with his girl. We could get up to all sorts of nonsense, the two of us.”

  Another blush blossomed on her cheeks. The urge to leave the warm little nest Angel had made for them in the bed became intense.

  “Well… then… I’m going to bring up some snacks. I don’t know if it’s just the cold, but I’m hungry again.”

  “It is the cold,” Angel said with a few quick nods. “Mos’ definitely the cold. You know those people that go to Antarctica to like study stuff there?” She grabbed Kelly’s hand again, squeezed it hard. “They pack boxes and boxes of candy. ‘Cos of the cold. Your body goes through energy like nothing else when you’re getting cold.”

  The girl’s blue eyes — spectacularly pretty, even without a trace of makeup — widened. “You think he’s got candy here?”

  “Prob’ly,” Bryce muttered, disappearing over the side of the bed again. “There�
��ll be enough food to survive a zombie apocalypse, knowing Drew. Prob’ly not enough booze, but definitely enough food.”

  Kelly pulled free again, biting the inside of her lip as she slid out of bed. “I’ll see what I can rustle up. More coffee?”

  “Milkshake,” Angel blurted out, the same time Bryce said, “Beer. Thanks, peaches.”

  She wasn’t sure about the new nickname. The tiny thrill that fluttered through her every time he used it confused her even more. It had started about three hands ago after Bryce had accidentally brushed her knee for the fifth time — possibly more — since they’d started playing gin.

  She was by the door when Angel started up again.

  “Would you live in the Arctic? All that snow and penguins and shit? I’d love to see penguins in the wild. They probably eat penguins, don’t they, those researchers? Would you bake a penguin in the oven and stuff, or like fry it up with—”

  “Jesus, Angel, I’m cutting you off. You’re making my ears bleed,” she heard Bryce interrupt as she made her way down the hall.

  And wasn’t it the weirdest thing? The Angel she’d woken up to was a completely different person. Even Bryce had changed from the last time she’d thrown him out of her house. Maybe he was too busy keeping up with Angel’s non-stop chatter, but he’d barely spared her a glance after asking if she’d like to join them for cards after breakfast. When she’d first seen him, an electric surge had buzzed through her. All the anger, the mortification, the acute confusion she’d felt that night of her birthday had come back three fold. And, somehow, it was transforming. Maybe it was just the man’s face; with those thick brows and dark eyes, his strong nose and wide jaws… it was just easier to think that she’d been the one who’d made a mistake, not him. That she’d screwed up that night, not realizing who he was and stopping him before he’d gone so far that stopping was impossible.

  The stairs creaked when she made her way down them.

  She was still pissed at Bryce. Not as much as she was at Drew, but still. It seemed the Sugar brothers had a genetic predisposition for being assholes. Drew, she’d never thought would be pulling stunts like this; making teenagers fall in love with him, and then trying to defend himself by saying he was being responsible.

  But Bryce… at least he was honest about who he was. About what a big jerk he could be. That kind of honesty was almost refreshing, compared with Drew’s underhanded deception. In fact, if she’d met Bryce at a bar, and had had enough courage to go up to him and make the first move, then she’d have been only too ecstatic to take him home with her. She’d have gone into that one nightstand with open eyes and no regrets.

  Now, all she regretted was ever thinking Drew was a nice guy. The kind of nice she could date. The kind of nice that didn’t care that she was divorced. Almost middle-aged. And a far cry from a gorgeous, nubile twenty-year-old.

  Drew wasn’t in the living room with news about her car like she’d hoped. The smell of Angel’s breakfast still lingered in the air.

  Kelly went to the deck doors and opened them, closing her eyes as she inhaled a massive breath of fresh lake air. Then she shivered violently and shut the doors again.

  Had a cold front arrived overnight?

  She went into the kitchen, staring around for a few seconds before opening a few cupboards in search of snacks. God, this place was beautiful. And kitted out with everything you could — and probably a lot of what you didn’t — need for a vacation.

  How could Drew afford all this? His house in Elm certainly wasn’t a two bedroom cottage, but she’d never imagined he earned enough to afford a place like this.

  Then again… he worked in insurance. He’d probably had a policy for his wife. And when she’d died…

  Kelly closed her eyes for a moment, gripping the edge of the counter. The guy was probably still recovering from his loss, and here she was, being a complete and utter bitch about—

  “Did you find Angel some candy?”

  She spun around, her hands gripping the rim of the counter behind her. “I… I was still looking.”

  “Here.” Bryce gave her a faint smile and walked over to one of the cabinets. He drew out a box of candy bars, a bag of sweets, and two bags of chips.

  Then he went over to the fridge and took out a six-pack of beer. “Want one?”

  She hesitated, then shrugged. “Sure.”

  His smile lifted a little as he walked up to her. He came to a stop in front of her, reached up, and opened the cabinet door directly above her head.

  Had she not become paralyzed, thinking he was pulling a move on her — almost hoping he was — then she would have shifted to the side. But now she was trapped by his arms and the only way she could get out of his way would be to duck under his arm like a terrified milk maid being bullied by the stable hand.

  “She’s sure got a sweet tooth,” Bryce murmured down to her, taking a glass from the top shelf of the cupboard.

  “She sure does,” she managed.

  Bryce began grinning. “Much as I’m loving being this close to you, I’m gonna need to use that blender behind you.”

  And, as usual, a blush crept over her cheeks as Bryce dropped his arm and allowed her to sidle out from under him. She bit the inside of her lip — hard enough to leave a metallic taste in her mouth — and scooped up the snacks he’d put down on the counter.

  “I’ll just—”

  “Thanks, peaches,” Bryce said without looking at her. He opened the freezer compartment of the fridge and pulled out a tub of ice cream as she scurried from the room trying to hide her rosy cheeks behind a bag of nachos.

  When she arrived back at Bryce’s room, Angel was struggling with her bra.

  “Oh. I’m—I didn’t—”

  “Ah,” Angel breathed, finally unclasping it and letting it fall to the bed. “God, that feels good. I seriously don’t get why we have to wear the things. Have you ever worn a bra that actually fit properly? Like properly, properly?” Angel picked up her underwear and flung it across the room, where it draped over the back of the dressing table chair. “Score!”

  Realizing she was just standing in the doorway staring, Kelly dropped her eyes and went over to the dressing table to put down the snacks.

  “No! Not there.”

  She froze, glancing behind her at Angel. The girl was struggling back into her sweater. “Sorry?”

  “There’s coke and shit on there. Just put everything on the bed.”

  “Coke?” she repeated slowly, turning back to the dresser.

  She’d expected to see a soda bottle. Maybe some cans. Not a small mirror with faint traces of white lines crisscrossing its surface. A glass straw. A little vanity bag, zip open but contents shaded by in gloom. A joint, newly rolled and still unlit, resting on a candle stand, the candle laying discarded beside it.

  “Oh.” She turned on stiff legs, hesitated, and dumped everything on the bed. “Uh… I’m going to—”

  “Get in.” Angel drew back the covers and bounced her legs a few times. “Come on, it’s freezing.”

  Kelly licked her lips. Glanced behind her at the assortment of drug-related paraphernalia. But they hadn’t even offered, had they? They’d waited for her to leave. They knew she wouldn’t—

  “Come on!”

  She kicked off her boots and slid in beside Angel. The warmth made her toes curl. Angel reared forward, grabbing the box of candy bars and tearing it open.

  “Gotta replenish my energy,” she mumbled, using her teeth to tear open one of the small bars. “The cold, you know?”

  “Why do you think Drew’s going to marry you?”

  The question slipped out while it was still forming in her mind. She squeezed her lips closed, but the damage had been done. Angel paused, ran the back of her hand over her mouth, and used her fingers to open the wrapper instead.

  When she spoke, she didn’t look up. “’Cos he proposed to me. All legit-like, in front of a lawyer and everything.” the girl glanced up at her, chocolate pois
ed a few inches from her mouth. “There was a ring and everything.”

  Kelly’s eyes kept widening as the girl spoke. When she put that candy bar in her mouth, Kelly laid a hand on her arm.

  “A ring?” she asked quietly, her eyes scanning the girl’s fingers.

  Angel shrugged. Her words were slightly muffled by the chocolate. “Took it back last night. Said he didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

  “Angel, that—” but she cut off.

  What the hell could Drew possibly be thinking, marrying someone as young as her? And why did every cell in her body feel compelled to warn the girl against accepting his proposal? Why would she need a warning? Was the girl just that delusional?

  A shiver raced over her arms and legs.

  “Did you say yes?”

  “Yup.” Angel swallowed the last of her chocolate and reached for a new one. “Wouldn’t you? I mean, he said I’d never have to work. That he’d like, take care of me and stuff. And I could live right here—”

  “Hope strawberry’s fine, baby girl. That’s all there is.” Bryce strode into the room and handed Angel a pink milkshake.

  She let her candy bar fall to the bed and sat back against the headboard, sucking on her straw with her eyes closed and bliss etched deeply on her face.

  Kelly looked up at Bryce, smiling faintly when he handed her a beer. “Thanks.”

  “Sure.” He came to sit cross-legged on the bed in front of her, so close that she had to move her feet out of the way for him. He cracked open his beer and tapped it against hers before tipping back his head and taking a few long swallows.

  Then he set his can down on the floor and stretched behind him for the joint on the dresser table.

  Kelly shifted higher up the bed, propping up a pillow behind her. Bryce lit the joint, took a few pulls, and handed it to her without a word.

  She stared at it. Glanced beside her at Angel. The girl watched her with wide, blue eyes, a hint of a smile on her face. She shrugged, took another sip from her straw, and winked.