I wasn’t that drunk—I simply felt a little buzz.
“I…” I shake my head, and he reaches up to try to grab the cell from me, but I pull it away.
“What’s going on?” Keir demands.
I look to him, not even sure what to say, then to Sailor. She seems to read my expression and softens.
“Take the cell to the kitchen, I’m sure there’s a charger that will fit,” she says, trying to give me an out.
But Lucas isn’t having it.
“She’s trying to delete my photo,” Lucas pipes up, and I whip my head around to give him a warning look. Not that it’ll do any good.
“What photo?” Joey asks.
Sailor goes to speak again, but Lucas cuts her off.
“Of Chanel, on the bed.”
The room goes silent.
You can hear a pin drop.
Shit.
“Well, fuck. Delete it, then.” Piper gets up, and before anyone can stop her, she’s standing in front of me.
Lucas reaches for his cell, but I delete the photo before he can grab it.
“Move out of my way, Piper.” Lucas’ tone is dripping with malice.
“And the deleted folder,” Piper states back to me.
What the hell is that?
“You were warned.” Before I can even understand what’s happening, the cell drops from my hand as a gunshot echoes through the dining room.
“Fucking hell, Lucas! Wren is here,” Keir shouts, but I can’t look their way because I’m still trying to work out where that gunshot came from.
“Fuck,” Piper says.
I step around her to see blood oozing from her arm. “You shot me in the arm!”
“It only grazed you,” Lucas says, rolling his eyes.
Piper then pulls out her gun and smirks as she aims at Lucas. “Asshole.” Then she shoots.
Everyone’s heads drop to the table, and Lucas is shot as well.
“Stop involving yourself in my shit,” Lucas growls at her.
Not wasting one second, I spin on my heel and hurry out of there. Everyone is still at the table, apart from Sailor who has seems to have escaped with Wren.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
I don’t stop until I get to the door.
But his hand reaches out and grips my arm before I can grasp the handle.
“Let. Me. Go,” I say succinctly.
He has his cell in his hand, and his eyes are locked on mine. “You think you can just leave?”
I pull my arm free. “I don’t think, I fucking am.”
“It’s taking a lot in me to not hit you over the head right now and knock you out.”
My mouth opens and shuts at his words.
“You are one fucked-up bastard.”
“I am. But you knew that before you spread your legs for me. Twice.” I gaze down at his arm, the one that was holding me, to see it’s bleeding and the blood is dripping onto the floor.
“That was a mistake. One I don’t plan to make again.” I walk out the door and just when I think I’m clear, his arm wraps around my waist and he pulls me to him.
“I’ll be seeing you, mio per sempre.”
“Let me go.” I struggle to get free, but somehow even injured he holds me to him. His hand skates along my belly and down between my legs. He grips my pussy, and what makes me so mad is that, despite him being a fucking psycho, my body reacts to his damn touch.
I can’t be attracted to this.
I don’t want to be attracted to this.
Why can’t I be attracted to a normal man—one who would treat me right and not shoot people?
But then a small voice in my head whispers, Because that’s safe, and you only think you want safe, when really you want him.
I try to tell the voice that it’s wrong.
It has to be wrong.
Right?
Who could even fall for someone like Lucas?
Does that mean there’s something wrong with those people?
To love someone like him.
Not that I love him.
Because I clearly do not.
But the way he makes me feel when he touches me, that can’t be right.
It’s not right.
“I can feel your heart beating out of your chest,” Lucas whispers into my skin, his hand moving from my stomach to between my breasts. “Why, oh why, does my close proximity make you feel like that? And we know it’s not because you’re nervous or scared…”
“Remove your hand, Lucas.”
“You are mine.”
“Wrong! That statement is fucked-up in so many different ways. I am mine. I belong to me. I am not yours.” I push his hand away and take off once more. When I look back, he’s still on the steps, watching me leave.
I don’t look back again until I know he can no longer see me. It’s then I stop, bending over and placing my hand to my chest as I try to catch my breath. To calm my nerves. To make sense of everything.
What have I done?
I won’t do this any longer.
I can’t keep on seeing him.
I also have a feeling I won’t get much of a choice. Once Lucas wants something, it seems he always gets it.