Sugar Dust (3 page)

“You sure? I can’t feel anything.”

“Try
looking.
”

She heard shuffling, thumps, and then the eventual slide of something hard moving across the carpet.

Pete touched her shoulder, skimming down her arm to her wrist. “Christ, you’re bendy.” His calloused fingers traced a path over forearm.

She froze and bit her lip.
Does he have to touch me like that?
The cuffs clicked and both bracelets slid away. Without turning back, she reached for the buckles around her ankles. “Thanks, now give me that blanket. The one in the corner.”

Closing her legs immediately lessened the ache in her hips, and when Pete pushed the fuzzy blanket between the bars, it took great effort not to snatch it. She wrapped it around her body, took a deep breath, then swiveled back round. With great care, she tucked the edges in around her thighs and ass, covering every scrap of skin from the neck down.

“Dan said you needed help. He didn’t tell me what was going on or else I’d have come prepared.” He smirked.

She gaped. His expression matched those she saw on men shamelessly stalking the “career girls” loitering in backstreets or dark alleys near the train station.

To see that look directed at her; to feel the heat of his gaze sliding over her naked skin, knotted her stomach and made bile rise in her throat.

Pete’s smirk vanished. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m kidding.” He shifted beneath her stare and finally dropped his gaze. “What am I supposed to be doing?”

“Dan lost the cage key.” She scanned the floor. “You’ve got to get me out before he comes back with his parents.”

That brought his eyes back up pretty damn quick. He whistled through his teeth. “Why the hell is he bringing them here?”

“Surprise visit.”

“Wow. You two are just—how can you—”

“Pete!” She slapped the bars. “Did you hear me? Find the key.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

He began to search.

Pete laid a bra wire, two pound coins and a tube of lube on the bookcase. Then he began to clear the floor, stacking the whip, a flogger, and a purple dildo on the chest of drawers. With each new toy, his features tightened. A blush spread across his jaw and down his neck. When he picked up a large Perspex butt plug and held it up to the light, she flinched and closed her eyes. She reopened them to find him staring at a brown plastic box attached to a plug. The long shaft had a glass attachment with a bell-shaped end.

He licked his lips. “What the hell is this thing?”

“A violet wand,” she whispered.

“A what? No, don’t tell me.” His hands shook as he laid it on the bed. “Sorry, Kaz, it ain’t here.”

A glance at the wall clock made Karen’s stomach clench. “They’ll be back soon. Maxine can’t see me like this.” Even under the blanket she began to shiver. “Do something.”

“I’m not bloody Houdini.”

“But you
are
a builder. Don’t you have something to fix this? Like a tool?”

“I didn’t bring the van.”

She looked at his paint splattered clothes.

He followed her gaze. “Painting doesn’t need screwdrivers and hammers, Kaz. And a paintbrush ain’t going to help you.”

“Please, Pete. Please.” She clutched her hair, aware in that moment that her hands were shaking. A flutter in her stomach made her wince. “You don’t get it—Maxine is just—what am I going to do?”

“Breathe, Kaz.”

“I
am
breathing.”

“Don’t bite my head off. How the hell did you lose the key, anyway?”

“Ask Dan,” she said, mulling on the memory of him playfully dangling the key over his open mouth.

“Well, I’m trying to help. A little gratitude would be nice.”

She sighed. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Just let me think.” He paced around the cage.

“Can you use something in here to bend the bars? Maybe I can squeeze out.”

“No. It’s reinforced steel. But these corners have screws in them and the door too. Where are Dan’s tools?”

“No idea.”

He stared.

“I don’t live here.” She spread her hands. “How would I know?”

“You’re not making this easy.”

“Oh, excuse me. Maybe next time I’ll keep a handy tool box under the bed.”

“That’s probably not a bad idea.” Pete ran his fingers through his hair. “Okay. Be right back.”

Abandoned yet again, Karen snuggled deeper into the fluffy embrace of the blanket and took several deep breaths. She watched the clock, trying not to mentally chart Dan’s journey to and from the train station. Three full minutes later Pete returned to the room with a handful of knives.

“One of these should do it,” he said.

Karen watched him work. Several discarded knives later he found one that suited him and started twisting. Soon, the sound of grinding metal chased away the soft hiss of his breathing. His fingers shook as he worked.

“Pete?”

“What? Ow! Fuck!” Pete reared up with his index finger gripped in his fist. Blood welled through the gap in his fingers.

“Are you okay?”

“Aside from slicing my finger open?”

“Sorry,” she said, glancing at the clock again.

“What’s wrong?”

“How long is this going to take?”

“Ages using this piece of crap.” He dropped the bloodied knife. “I need a proper screwdriver. You must know where he keeps stuff like that.”

She shook her head.

“I’ll phone him, then.”

“No.” Karen pressed against the cage, clutching her blanket as the imagined conversation played through her mind. “You can’t phone him.”

“Why?”

“He’ll be with his parents by now. How will he explain that?”

“Fuck, Kaz, what do you want from me?”

She pressed her fingertips to her temples, staring at Pete and the blood dripping down his hairy forearm, off the end of his elbow. A tiny pool formed on the carpet.

“Try the kitchen drawers. He fixed a shelf last week, maybe he left some stuff out.”

“Progress.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Her question chased his retreating back as he headed for the kitchen.

The blanket scratched her bare skin and the silence of the room pressed in, more claustrophobic than the bars of the cage. She longed to pace and drummed her fingers against her thigh in poor substitute. Nervous energy flooded her limbs, making her jiggle first one leg then the other. She gnawed on her fingernails and returned to watching the clock. Then she heard the front door open a second time and, an instant later, Dan’s cheery voice floated up the stairs.

“Hey babe, I’m home!”

Chapter Four

Dan stepped into the house. His pulse filled the back of his throat. He checked the sitting room, found it empty, and knew Karen was still trapped upstairs. “Shit.” His shoulders slumped. “Tea, Mum?”

Maxine stepped over the threshold and into the hallway, frowning at a framed picture of the Manchester United team of 1998. “Yes, darling, that would be lovely. Thank you.”

He pointed. “You sit in the front room. I’ll bring it.”

“Wonderful. Come Julian.” Without pausing, Maxine marched into the sitting room. Julian followed, shaking his head and rubbing his eyelids with the tips of his fingers.

Pausing only long enough to see them sit, Dan darted into the kitchen. There he found Pete, riffling through drawers and wearing an expression like he’d sucked a lemon.

“Hey Pete, is she out?” He lowered his voice, conscious of the short distance between himself and the sitting room.

His friend whirled around and dropped a knife onto the floor. His upper lip curled, showing off a glint of gold in the top row of teeth. “Bastard,” he snarled.

Dan flinched away from the unexpected show of venom. “I know—”

“Do you?”

“I’m sorry!” His gaze strayed to the knife and the small trail of blood drops across the floor. “What happened to you?”

Pete blinked, as if noticing the red stains for the first time. “The knife slipped.”

“Is she out?”

“No, genius. What were you thinking? Why didn’t you warn me?”

“There was no time.”

“There was no time to warn me she was naked?” Pete scrubbed his hands through his short scruffy hair. “You could have at least covered her up.”

The simplicity of it made Dan cringe. Perhaps he’d overreacted just a little bit. A reoccurring problem where his mother was concerned. Rather than voicing his doubts, he crossed his arms and tilted his chin. “You don’t understand.”

“Clearly not.” Again, the edge in Pete’s voice cut the air like a bare razor blade. “I need a screwdriver.”

“In the shed, on the floor near the paint brushes.”

“Thanks.” Pete stomped out the back door, leaving a small trail of blood.

Dan followed and had almost reached the door when Julian entered behind him. “What’s wrong, Dad?”

“Your mother’s fretting over this tea. You got mint or fennel?”

“No.”

“Son...”

“I didn’t know you were coming, did I?” Dan saw the startled look in his father’s eyes and took a deep breath. He scratched the back of his neck. “She can have Earl Grey and be happy with it.” In a softer voice he added, “Do you want one?”

“Coffee, boy, you know me.”

Dan filled the kettle and grabbed three mugs. “Is she still in the living room?”

“No, she went upstairs.”

His stomach dropped so fast it threatened to hit his toes. “What?”

“She wanted to use the bathroom. What’s wrong?”

Dan fumbled the mugs onto the counter and ran for the stairs, climbing them two at a time. Halfway up he twisted his ankle and limped up the remainder. Rounding the corner on the landing, he saw his mother put her hand on the door to the master bedroom.

“Mum!”

“Hi, darling.” She beamed at him. “Just having a look around. I love the new wallpaper. Does it go all the way through?”

“Don’t go in there.” He approached with his hands extended, waving as if directing traffic.

“Why?”

Dan chewed his bottom lip. “It’s not fit for guests.”

“Silly boy, I don’t mind a little mess.”

“I’m embarrassed.” He knocked her hand away from the handle. “I’d rather you didn’t see it.”

She crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow.

“You raised me better than that. I don’t want you to see what a slob I am.”

“But the wallpaper—”

“Is exactly the same. I’ll show you later, once I’ve tidied up.”

“You know, Daniel.” She pursed her lips. “If that woman of yours was worth anything, she’d tidy up.”

Dan heard a sharp exclamation from beyond the door.

Maxine stiffened. “What was that?”

“What?” He widened his eyes.

“That noise?”

“I didn’t hear anything. Just come downstairs and have your tea.”

Maxine reached around him. “I really don’t mind the mess. Let me see.”

“No!” Again he shoved her hand aside.

“Daniel, that hurt.”

“Sorry, but please, let me tidy up first. Then you can see.” He held out his hand, using the voice he remembered using to recite his most successful Christmas wish lists. “Let’s go downstairs. Have you used the bathroom already?”

“Yes, and I can’t believe you’re using that thin, cheap paper. Why not use soft rolls? Like the ones we use?”

He fought the urge to roll his eyes. Nit-picking and thinly veiled disapproval were expressions of motherly love he could do without.

Instead, he took her by the hand and coaxed her toward the stairs. “You’re right. Remind me which ones you use so I can buy some next time.”

“I will and be sure you do.” She sniffed. “While I know that girl must be a financial drain you can at least buy decent toilet paper.”

With his shoulders hunched against the sound of another indignant squeak beyond the door, Dan marched back down the stairs. He held his mother’s hand all the way into the kitchen where clouds of steam told him the kettle had boiled.

Julian stood near the sink, pouring water into mugs. “Sugar?”

“No, thank you.” Maxine waved her hand.

“I meant Daniel.”

“And I said ‘no’, Julian. He’s getting chubby. Probably too much takeout.”

Dan felt his mother’s fingers jab his rib cage.

Just can’t help it, can you, Mum? What next, my hair?

Julian rolled his eyes. “How do you want this tea, my boy?”

“Two sugars please.” Dan ignored the sigh of disapproval from his mother and steered her into a chair.

“Your friend is outside, by the way.” Julian pointed to the window. “In your shed.”

Maxine craned her neck. “Has he been here all this time?”

“Yes.” Dan rubbed his foot over the trail of blood on the floor tiles. “He’s helping me in the bedroom. You know he’s a builder.”

“And you left him here alone with Kate?”

This time he did roll his eyes. “Karen.”

She smoothed her skirt. “Was that wise?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“You know better than I do, but—no. Don’t mind me. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

He stared at her, his entire body tingling with the effort it took not to take the bait. It was too much. “What is it, Mum?”

“Well, where is she?”

“Karen? Upstairs.”

“Getting dressed?”

“Maybe. What are you getting at?”

“Nothing. Though...” Maxine glanced out the window. “Your friend is a bit scruffy, isn’t he? Disheveled?”

“So?”

More skirt smoothing. “Perhaps he dressed in a hurry?”

“Tea, Maxine.”

Dan closed his mouth over his reply, grateful for his father’s timely interruption. He used the gap to take several deep breaths. “Pete helped me do the wallpaper. That’s all. He’s probably clearing tools from the bedroom.” He gave his mother a significant glance.

“He won’t let me see the master room, Julian.”

“And why should he? He’s not a child.”

Though their relationship had never been physical, in that moment Dan could have kissed his father. He settled for smiling behind his raised hand.

“Does that mean I shouldn’t see his lovely new wallpaper?”

Content that his parents had returned to bickering, Dan rushed into the garden. He reached Pete just as he held up a screwdriver.

“Near the paintbrushes, my ass.”