20
King of Hearts
If he didn’t leave now, he’d be late. Still, he couldn’t resist going to poke at the bee’s nest that was his brother’s mind one last time. Bryce grabbed his phone, slid it into his pocket, and left his door ajar.
Drew’s office was empty.
He leaned against the door frame, scanning the place. He straightened, glanced over his shoulder, and took the phone that lay abandoned behind a stack of papers. Had it fallen from Drew’s briefcase? He pocketed it and turned to leave.
Trent stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. “He left about twenty minutes ago.”
“Where’d he go?”
Trent shrugged. “Don’t know. Don’t care.”
“He sick?” Bryce asked, casually sliding the hand holding the phone into his pocket.
“Sick, stressed, hungover.” Trent gave a disinterested shrug. “You shouldn’t have let him run lead. I’ve read his report; it’s utter shit.” Then the man narrowed his eyes and gestured vaguely toward his jaw. “First rule of Fight Club?”
Bryce dipped his head for a moment. “I made a comment about Drew’s tie.” He lifted his shoulder in a half-shrug. “Guess he’s having a real shitty day.”
“Starting to look like a midlife crisis to me.”
He shook his head and let out an exasperated sigh. “I’ll speak to him. Maybe it’s just this new girl of his. You know, distracting him.”
Trent lifted his eyebrows and gave another shrug. “Whatever it is, he has to take care of it. That or he’s out. I can’t have my adjusters running around drawing goddamn hearts in their claim files.”
“He drew hearts?”
“Figure of speech,” Trent said gruffly and narrowed his eyes at Bryce. “You on your way out too?”
He snorted. “Too much work. Wanted to grab Drew for a smoke, talk it out. Guess I’m too late.”
Trent let out a sigh that he could hear all the way across Drew’s office. “That man’s got to get himself together, Bryce.” He gave Drew’s office a fleeting scan and then left.
A smile crawled onto his face. If Drew wasn’t home yet, it meant he wasn’t planning on going there anytime soon. Fuck knew what Drew did when he wasn’t at home or at work, but maybe there was still a chance for him to put his plan into action.
He just had to make a quick stop at an ATM.
Drew’s split-level looked different during the day. Brighter. Cheerier. Like it should have a model wearing leggings and high heels, holding a Chihuahua, answering the front door.
Bryce slowed before he reached it and parked his car on the opposite side of the road, across from Kelly’s house. He couldn’t see Drew’s car — but the man could have parked it in the garage. The car he assumed was Penny’s stood in the drive, though. If his brother had left the office a few minutes before him, then it would be a close call.
He touched the edges of Drew’s phone through his suit; clumsy, forgetful Drew always made it so easy. And the weight of that phone had drawn a plan into his mind like gravity working on a glacier.
The phone was cold in his hand — there was a brief spate of sunlight, a few rays spearing through a break in the clouds. But his car was wet from the drive over; the rain would only be letting up tomorrow, from all accounts.
Drew hadn’t even had the decency to give her an alias; she’d been listed in his phone book as ‘Angel’ and had made two calls to him in the past two days, both last night.
Wondering where he was.
Wondering when he would come home.
She answered on the second ring. “Hey.” Her voice was quiet, tight with expectation.
“You ready for me, princess?”
“You going to be here soon?”
“Five minutes.”
He put the phone in his pocket and tugged loose his tie. From what his brother had said, the girl hadn’t seen him leave. So, hopefully, that meant she didn’t know what Drew was wearing.
The rear-view mirror magnified the bruise on his jaw — it didn’t look bad, but she would notice it. Then again, it would be just like Drew to get punched by his brother.
Bryce grinned and then altered his smile slightly. That was better. He worked his fingers through his hair until he was satisfied and then pushed open the door and glanced down both sides of the street.
Deserted. Not even a jogging soccer mom in sight.
Perfect.
His shoes thudded over the drive. Crunched over grass that had just started to dry. He paused at the front door, hand lifted to knock, and then pushed it open instead.
Angel knelt in the entry hall, head dropped and hands clasped in her lap. She didn’t look up when he stepped closer. Didn’t even look up when he came to a stop in front of her, putting his shoes in sight of her bowed head.
“Where are your clothes, Angel?”
The girl started a bit and shifted her head as if she wanted to look up. “I didn’t think I’d need them.” Her braids slithered over her breasts — she wore one behind each ear, the edges just below her nipples. Tiny pink ribbons had been used to keep them bound.
“You’re right; you won’t.”
Bryce reached into his pocket and took out Drew’s phone. It was newer than his — he didn’t give a shit about technology, but his brother did… even if he didn’t know how to work it half the time.
And then she did look up. And gave him a double-take before she spotted the phone. Then those blue eyes became wide and unblinking. Her pearly pink lips parted.
“Mr… Sugar?” Confusion shook her voice.
“Get up, Angel.”
She did, but slowly, struggling to hide a frown as her eyes darted between him and the cellphone.
“You’re not—”
“No. I’m better.” He grinned at her, but it did nothing for the concern on her face. “And I have a proposition for you.”
She opened her mouth, but he forestalled her.
“Money. That’s what you’re after, isn’t it? Money?”
Angel took a step back, but she didn’t run. Didn’t cover herself up. Just stood and watched him like a deer who’d spotted a wolf weaving through the trees.
He tugged a wad of cash from his suit pocket. Her eyes never left him, but they flickered almost imperceptibly.
His grin widened when she licked her lips and asked, “How much is that?”
“Too much, probably.” He cocked his head, sliding the money back. Then he held up Drew’s phone and jiggled it. “And I’ll give you even more, if you let me record it.”