Chapter Thirty-Seven

Lyrical

Snow: Come home.

I read Snow's text message, but I don't feel like coming home right now. I just want to have a night out with my friends. My side is hurting me from the stitches, but it's not as bad now, and my head hurts. I can't believe that I watched Savannah die and don't feel bad about it. Not at all. She tried to kill me and failed, so she deserved what happened to her. I just wish it were me holding that bag over her head. Something about seeing life leave a person's eyes changes you, in a way. I see people as bodies and not actual people with feelings after Snow killed Savannah. It sounds creepy and weird. Life is a lot more fragile than we think and in a split second, any of us can be murdered by anyone.

I now see Snow in a different light; him talking about killing is one thing, but seeing him actually do it is another entirely. I couldn't love him more than I already do, and I accept him for who he is.

My phone dings with another message from Snow.

Snow: You were supposed to be home resting, not at a bar.

Me: I'm fine, Shadow. I'm just out with the girls. I didn't want to stay in the house.

He reads my message, so I know he'll be popping up soon, because Snow never takes no for an answer. He's also extra clingy. Which is another thing I love about him.

Love.

I love my best friend. I will never stop loving him, even though he manipulates me and controls everything in my life. I love the way he takes from me and dominates me in the bedroom. I love that I can freely be myself around him. He really still cares for me. He accepts me, flaws and all, and never shames me for anything. Our love is unconventional, but I don't care; the world is not supposed to understand our relationship.

I down the whiskey, and it burns the hell out of my throat, causing me to cough.

Winter pats me on the back and giggles. "Are you okay?"

I nod.

The bartender pours me another shot, and I down that one just as fast. Two more shots, and I'm tipsy and feel dizzy.

I watch Lilac make out with a guy, and Winter asks the bartender to bring the whole bottle of whiskey. By the time I get home, I won't remember what happened and I'll sleep like a dead fish.

Several minutes later, I stand up from the barstool and glance up, Snow stares into my gaze and he cups my face, strokes my cheeks, smearing my lipstick all over. I feel the stickiness of it on my delicate skin.

The club is too busy for us to talk, so he ushers me outside of the building, into his black car.

Snow straps my seat belt for me and I sink into the leather seat. I inhale his woodsy cologne as he sits next to me. I'm horny and I need dick now, so I unzip his pants and whip it out, but he pushes my hands away and tucks himself back into his pants.

When I'm about to ask him why he won't allow me to touch him, I look up as we pull up to his private jet.

How long have we been riding? The alcohol in my system makes me lose sense of time and the world spins. I feel like I'm floating in the air.

"I thought we were going home."

He shakes his head. "No. We're going to Costa Rica."

Why on earth are we taking a trip across the country? I'm not big on surprises. My cheeks flush as I touch my warm face. Sobering up a little bit, I sit forward.

"No, we're not. I have to go to my classes unlike you. I have to study, especially for algebra."

The driver gets out of the car, goes to the trunk, unloads it, and wheels our luggage to the airplane.

Snow strokes my cheeks and a shiver snakes up my spine.

"Don't worry about that class. You will pass."

I fold my arms across my chest. "I don't want to go, Revi. Take me home."

"You're going with me. Whether you like it or not." He steps out of the car, then walks to my side, opening the door and holding out his palm.

He's insane—just insane.

I place my hands under my butt. "You can't make me get on a plane."

"Do you want to test that theory?"

"Snow… please. Let me go home. Why are we going to Costa Rica?"

"We're getting married."

I stare at him like he has three heads. There is no way I'm going to say "I do" to him this soon. Not without my parents and friends present. It's my mother's dream to watch me walk down the aisle and I'd be stealing that from her.

Where does he come up with these crazy-ass ideas?

"Why, all of a sudden, do you want to elope so fast?"

I can't wrap my head around it, he's lost all of his marbles if he thinks he can kidnap me and take me to a foreign country to marry him. But all he does is kiss my lips.

"Because I want the world to know you're officially mine. That I own every part of you, and you own me."

"They already know I'm yours. They have a hate group dedicated to me just because I'm with you!"

I love Snow, but what's up with him acting paranoid and wanting to get married out of the blue?

"It's not enough. I don't want to marry you because of the stupid-ass arrangement our families made. So, I will force you to be my wife because I want you to. You can go willingly, or you can go by force."

"You don't own me, Snow."

"Yes, I do. I own every inch of you. Being owned by me means I get to be there for your emotions, and nurturing your every need in life. Like I always have."

The truth is, I have always been in love with Snow and dreamed of being his wife, but not like this. I want my father to walk me down the aisle. So I pout, turning my head to the side.

"Suit yourself, Blue."

He yanks me out of the car, and I scream for him to let me go while he carries me bridal style.

"Help! I'm being kidnapped!"

No one stops what they are doing, not even the flight attendant. She has on a blue outfit and a big-ass grin across her face.

"Watch your step, sir," is all she says.

I feel as if I have to puke, and my face is all of a sudden hot.

"He's kidnapping me to marry him," I whine.

My eyes are pleading with her to help me, but she just shakes her head, following up the steps.

"You're complaining about it?" she asks sarcastically. "I wish a man would marry me. A rich, powerful man, at that."

Once we make it inside, he continues to carry me to a small room and throws me onto the bed.

"Get some rest, we have a long flight and I want you fully rested by the time we get to the beach."