Page 66 of Red Masquerade

How my lover wasn’t good enough for me.

He gestured to Adam. “Well? Go on, then.”

“I’m a man, who—”

Lucas burst out in a single laugh. “Well, that’s a relief! What else?”

“I love her.”

A chuckle, rumbling in Lucas’ chest as he removed his arm from around me. My breaths caught in my throat, lodging there, never making it to my lungs. Shallow, rapid.

Lightheadedness overtook me. I gripped the seat beneath my legs.

“You think that’s good enough?” Lucas crooned. “That’srich.”

“It’s enough,” Adam said, with no humor. The clench of his jaw was the only sign of his anger. A lock of hair falling on his forehead.

“Because she says so?”

Lucas spoke like I wasn’t even in the room.

He shook his head, then leaned forward. “Women, they don’t know what they want,” he said, his voice low, the humor slowly slipping away. “Especially nother. You think she knows what is good enough?” Letting the cruelty simmering underneath seep through. “Evidently, she has no idea, if she’s been running around with you.”

Adam’s throat slid. If he spoke, he’d only make Lucas’ wrath worse. If he was silent, he let Lucas win.

“So, here’s what we’re going to do.”

There was a click, and suddenly, Lucas was brandishing a handgun at Adam, pointed straight at his heart. Lucas didn’t feel the need to lift his arm—No, the barrel of the gun barely peeked over the rim of the table.

Father’s old pistol.

A gasp flew out of me, and finally my limbs moved.

Before I could think, I was grabbing his wrists. “Lucas!”

No, no, no, no!

Those irises of fire flew to me, and the cool sharpness of metal pressed against my forehead.

“I should just kill you,” he snarled, pushing the barrel against my skull. Right against my temple. “All you ever do is cause trouble.”

A sob caught in my throat. The dam broke, the tears burning. “Please.”

The fact was, I had no idea if he could do it. If he could shoot me, kill me, point-blank. Death had never stared back at me before. Lucas slung threats around, used his fists, his words to intimidate, to shape me into whatever he wanted.

The not knowing was what terrified me. If he was all talk, or if he truly meant to pull the trigger.

“Is that what you want? Hmm?” The metal jabbed against the thin bone above my ear, sharp and steely cold. “A double murder? Then I’d go off to jail, and you’d be satisfied, wouldn’t you? Finally getting rid of me.”

I wanted to scream. It only ever felt like he wanted to be rid ofme.

“Quintrell.” Adam hadn’t moved from his seat. “What do you want?”

My heart was thumping, pounding against my ribcage, wanting out.

I couldn’t breathe.I need air.

Lucas pulled the gun away from my head, and I sucked in air like I was surfacing from water. I pushed myself all the way in the corner of the booth, as far as I could get from him, panic seizing my limbs, my hands shaking viciously.