Page 48 of Goldflame

Lucy looks like she’s going to break apart right thereon the loveseat. Her cheeks flame red as she stares at the floor. “Thirty-four.”

“Poor dear. Well, he must be having fun in Vegas. Unless you’ve heard about anything else he’s up to?”

Lucy wrings her hands on her lap, thinking things over.

I watch, caught between shock and admiration for how brutally effective Mom is. She’s dismantling Lucy with nothing more than words.

When Lucy finally lifts her head, all traces of composure are gone. She’s trembling. “I really don’t know. He doesn’t tell me much.”

Mom’s whimsical voice turns hard. “Are you sure? Please consider your words.”

“I swear. I don’t know anything.”

My jaw ticks. I’m so tired of the lies from all sides that Ineedsome fucking truth for once. I open my mouth to say something, but Mom holds up a hand, continuing to take control.

Mom sighs, that same sigh that let me know I was in trouble as a kid. “Lucy,” she says carefully. “I really wish things had gone differently. We just need the truth, that’s all.” She reaches into my jacket pocket, and before I even register the movement, she’s holding my knife.

Lucy’s eyes widen as Mom examines it casually. “Strip,” Mom orders, her voice almost gentle but too jagged around the edges.

I’m almost as shocked as Lucy is.

Lucy’s breath hitches. She looks at me, pleading silently for some kind of intervention. But I only stareback. I’m too fucking tired of the games to care if she feels cornered.

“Here?” Her eyes flick to the stairs. “Let’s go to my bedroom. I don’t want my kids to?—”

“Strip,” Mom echoes. “Or we’ll invite them down to watch.”

I touch Mom’s wrist because even I’m wondering if this is going too far. Intimidation is one thing, but I know what it’s like to watch your own mother get abused. How could she even suggest it?

She glances at me with steely eyes and leans close to whisper. “To be a true leader, you must get stronger. Just watch. Your brother would have.”

That comment digs in right where I’m most tender. My hand slides away from her wrist. Would Adrian really watch something like this? Especially when a child might see?

I can’t imagine he would, but Mom’s words cut deep—she’s suggesting I’m weaker than him.

I’m not. I refuse to be.

I do as she says and lean back into the couch, falling silent.

Slowly, hands shaking less now that she knows exactly what’s at stake, Lucy stands and peels her modest black dress from her shoulders. Lets it pool at her feet like a black hole on the carpet.

She holds my gaze, begging me silently to help, as her panties and bra slip away.

I’m frozen because I can’t be weak. I’m the leader now. The leader has a responsibility to keep everyone in line.

Mom twirls the knife in her grip. “What has Mr. Carter been up to lately?”

“Why do you think I’m lying?” Lucy says, hugging her chest and trying to hide parts of herself. She glances at the man’s jacket on the chair. “I… okay. I brought a man home from a bar but?—”

“Like we care about that. Tell us the truth of where your husband is and why.”

“He disappeared two days ago,” she admits. “I don’t know where he is. That’s not a lie.”

“You know exactly where he is,” Mom says calmly.

“I don’t. I promise.”

“Are you sure?” Mom stands, looking like a small, elegant reaper with the knife. She grabs Lucy’s arm, digging nails into flesh, and draws the blade along Lucy’s forearm.

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