Chapter Three

Lyrical

I attend two of my classes this morning, and by noon, I'm a little exhausted.

My first day of senior year has been the worst, but at least I'm getting back into the groove of a schedule and still trying to figure out what exactly is my new norm. A few months ago, I was looking forward to graduating, but now, I'm dreading it. I'm not looking forward to marriage and with the way my relationship with Snow is now, I wouldn't be surprised if he locks me up in his home and never lets me out. This past summer, after rehab, I sat in my room, drew, and did not interact with anyone unless I had to. I isolated myself from my old friends—and my family. I held myself in my room because I couldn't face society.

Trauma has a way of making you lose yourself in ways you never thought.

I sit at the gazebo by the oak trees as I remove my college algebra book from my book bag—I failed it for the third time in a row. But no one knows, other than my parents, that I suffer from dyscalculia. I have a hard time reading numbers and understanding math problems. If I don't pass this course this year, I can't graduate, and my dreams will go up in smoke. It's embarrassing because I struggle to count money or do simple math. It was so much easier to hide it because my parents hired tutors to help me and they donated millions of dollars to the schools I attended so they would overlook my disability.

I stare at the math equations as if they are a foreign language, then I yank out my phone and watch a YouTube video to try to understand the concept.

Frustration hits me, so I close the book and slip it back into my book bag.

I asked the director of the disability program who also happens to be my college algebra professor to give me extra time to do my schoolwork, but he told me it will take time to get the arrangement approved, and I even offered him bribe money, but he declined and gave me a lecture about being a snobby person thinking he can be bought.

Lilac sits next to me, while Winter has her literature class right now. I was so glad to get away from them earlier, because they were bombarding me with questions about my relationship with Snow.

Her eyes narrow and concern etches her face. "You haven't answered our group chat. What did Snow say to upset you?"

I put the group chat on mute because I didn't want to answer any questions, but Lilac is persistent. She should become an FBI agent because she knows how to find out people's business. "I don't want to talk about it," I answer honestly. I don't want to carry the pain in my chest of him hurting my feelings.

"Oh, you're the one who was in the accident with her," she pieces together.

"How'd you figure that out?"

"Why else would he be pissed off at you? You used to hang around him since freshman year."

Our car accident made the headlines. Fortunately, our parents didn't reveal who I was to the media.

I nod, trying to get rid of the memory, but I'm pretty sure people who pay attention to Snow know we used to hang out together. If people suspect I was the one in the car accident, no one will dare speak of it.

"Oh, I had no idea. The way he was watching you…" She chews on her bottom lip before answering. "Like you're his prey."

I ignore her comment, and the fact that he had Savannah all over him makes me not want to touch him. If he wants to have her as a mistress while we're married, he's allowed to, as long as he doesn't touch me. He's hurting me out of spite, and it worked. I cried the entire way to my first class that he doesn't believe I was drugged that night. So I have to prove to him that I was.

I've been trying to make sense of Bailey's behavior before her death because she was acting strange, disappearing for hours. It felt like her boyfriend was watching her because she would go into crying spells, though at the time it didn't make any sense. I'm certain we were drugged the night of the car accident.

I need to find out who her boyfriend was because she never told me his name. She was worried he was going to hurt her. No one took Bailey seriously because she was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia, but I did. I did everything I could to try to keep her from the dark space. To help her walk a thin line between reality and hallucinations. People usually swept her feelings and thoughts under the rug because of her illness.

Worry mars Lilac's face as she snaps her fingers. "Earth to Lyric. Are you there?"

I slap my palm across my forehead.

"Can you go to the American Gods' party with me?"

"I don't think it's a good idea for me to go."

"Please, Winter won't be able to go because she's hanging out with her parents."

I don't want to stay in my room all day, plus I won't run into Snow because he never attends them, and I don't plan to stay long, so I nod. "I'll go."

"Is it possible you can hook me up with Irvin? I think he's cute."

Irvin is weird from what Snow has told me about him in the past. He's the loner of the group and doesn't hang out with them. I don't know if it has to do with him not getting along with Snow. When we were teenagers, they used to get into fistfights all the time.

"You don't want to get involved with him."

"Can I tell you something that's personal? But you can't repeat it to anyone, not even to Winter."

I nod, twisting my hair around my finger.

Embarrassment colors her face. "A girl in my class told me Irvin has a kink that I want to try."

My eyebrows climb up my forehead. "Which is…?"

"Um… I like to be choked and chased and I like it when a man forces himself on me," she whispers as she looks down at the ground.

She has nothing to be embarrassed about because I have a whole sketchbook filled with something similar to what she's just described, but it's of me and Snow doing primal play. Before the car accident, I was going to ask him to take my virginity, to explore that side I crave together.

I smile at her. "I have the same fantasies too. I-I have a sketchbook of me getting chased by a man. I have dark fantasies about being controlled by a man."

I'm not going to admit to her that I'm speaking about Snow, because I don't want her to pry into my relationship with him.

I told Bailey about the kinks I have, and she looked at me in disgust, so I never mentioned it again—to anyone. I planned to keep my secret buried with me.

"I can speak to him for you. Introduce you two."

We both get up from the bench, heading to our apartment.

Once we make it home, I waltz straight to my bedroom, and I slip out of my clothes, put on my white halter neck dress that says Bite Me at the front, along with black boots and the leather jacket Snow bought me for Christmas last year. Usually on the island at night, the temperature drops.

Lilac walks in with her lavender hair down her back, wearing a brown strapless dress with matching cowboy boots.

We loop our arms as we walk across the campus to where the American Gods live. My eyes snag onto the cobblestone mansion with rectangular windows. Gargoyles sit on top of the roof, and the glass mansion sits right in front of the calm ocean. I watch people lingering on the beach with beer bottles in their hands. This place brings back so many memories of me spending the night with Snow, where we played video games and watched movies together. I used to hide out with him when there was a party going on. He's such a loner at times. I miss my best friend so much it hurts. I feel as if I don't know him anymore.

When we stroll up to the archway, Jameson hands out shots to everyone who walks in through the door. His gaze clings to my dress, then he checks out Lilac. He's gorgeous, built like a linebacker, easy on the eyes. His silvery hair is cut close to the scalp and he wears a black T-shirt and denim jeans. My eyes drop to the veins in his arms.

He offers me a shot. "You're brave to show your face around here, Blue."

I shake my head, but Lilac downs her shot and coughs loudly, causing Jameson to laugh.

I walk toward the entrance, but he yanks me by my arm, then he leans down and whispers, "Your fiancé is going to be mad you're here."

We haven't announced our engagement yet, so as far as I'm concerned, he's not my fiancé.

"Let me through, Jameson. I'm here to talk to Irvin."

Bewilderment ceases his face and he blocks the entrance. "If Snow catches you speaking to Irvin, he's going to kill him."

I don't believe Snow would kill him, because they have to run the club together and he doesn't like me. Why would he care if I'm speaking to one of his friends?

"Fuck Snow. I can talk to whoever I want."

He sidesteps me. "Go right ahead, princess, I hope you have a grave dug up for him."

Lilac's eyes widen at his words, and she swallows thickly, giving him a timid look. He grins, then whispers something in her ear, and her face blushes as she steps back and says, "I want Irvin."

He winks, then licks his lips. "If you ever change your mind, let me know. You know where I live."

We walk into the crowded living room, and it's hot as fuck. Women wear skimpy clothes, and I spot Keanu getting sucked off by a blonde chick, and another girl is being sandwiched between two men, getting fucked hard. There are so many people packed in the spacious living room. Sex and weed filter in the air, and the music is so loud it rattles the window.

Shaking my head, I peel my eyes away from the scene, then we walk to the kitchen where it's less noisy. "What did he say?"

She blushes. "He wanted that same timid look on my face when he has me on all fours, fucking me."

"Wow."

We search the crowd for Irvin, and fear overrides my senses because I don't want to run into Snow. Even though there's a slim chance he's here, but you never know. My heart hammers in my chest, so I tell Lilac I'm going to step outside for some fresh air.

Once I make it to the patio, I see people stand by a bonfire, the sun sinking below the ocean, glowing orange on the crystal water. I zip up my jacket and rub my hands as the chilly air bites at my skin.

I search the crowd for Irvin but he's nowhere near in sight. I don't want to bump into Snow, so I need to get out of here. I should have told Lilac no, but I'm her only ticket for her to get a dick appointment. Most people can't reach any of the American Gods unless they want to be reached. They mainly keep to their circle of friends.

I walk toward the bonfire, accidentally bumping into someone, and I look up to find brown eyes staring down at me.

"I'm sorry," I say, searching the backyard, then my gaze snaps back to his.

"No problem." He holds out his hand. "I'm June."

I grab it and squeeze lightly. "Lyrical."

He lets my hand go. "Your name is pretty."

June is cute, soft on the eyes, blond hair pulled up into a neat ponytail, and slim build. My eyes venture toward his jersey.

"You want to sit next to me at the bonfire? We're swapping stories."

I turn to look at the lit mansion, then my gaze veers at the people sitting by the fire.

It's safer out here than in the mansion, away from Snow.

I sit on the patio chair as the flames dance, lighting up the faces of the people sitting close to it. I should have worn a pair of jeans, my legs are starting to feel numb.

A guy passes June a joint. He sticks it between his lips, puffing on it, then offers it to me, but I decline. "I remember you. You were in my English class our freshman year." He blows smoke from the corner of his mouth.

My eyebrows rise. "I don't remember you."

"Of course you don't. I was not noticeable. I had acne all over my face and my dress game wasn't on point."

"You play football?"

He nods, puffing on the joint a few times and blowing smoke from his nose. "We're known but not as known as the American Gods."

A blonde-haired girl nods her head. I notice she's wearing a bikini with shorts, and her top barely covers her tits. It's too cold to be wearing that, but who I am to judge people's clothing? "I would love to sit on Snow's lap. I heard he has a big dick and knows how to use it."

Jealous burns in my chest, but it can't be because he's not mine, and he never will be mine even when we marry.

Placing my hand onto the edge of the armrest on my chair, I squeeze tightly, until my knuckles turn white. Then I school my features as much as I possibly can into a tight smile. "His dick is small."

Her gaze shoots up to mine, eyeing me up and down as if she doesn't believe me. "What?"

I lean back in the lawn chair, tucking my hair behind my ears, trying to remain calm. "He has a pencil dick."

She crinkles her nose. "How would you know?"

"Because I know him and his family."

She shakes her head. "Oh, I heard his sister died and the person who was driving was on drugs. Is it true?"

A knot forms in my chest as tears sting my eyes. North Haven's townspeople spread some of the worst gossip about me. Some people said I tried to kill us both, some said I was a junkie, and others said I was mentally unstable like Bailey. It made headlines nationwide, but my parents and Snow's family hid my name in fear it might ruin their almighty names. The only thing they want to be talked about is my marriage to Snow. The question that everyone wants to know is, who will the Gods marry after college? I feel like it should have been me who passed away instead of Bailey. If I could switch places with her, I would have. In a heartbeat.

June twists his body in my direction, and he smiles at me. "You want to go out with m—"

"Lyrical isn't going anywhere with you," Snow snaps, grabbing my arm and yanking me out of the chair.

Everyone around the bonfire grows quiet, as if he's a god appearing out of nowhere, and the blonde girl has stars in her eyes.

June frowns. "Maybe some other time."

"Stay away from my toy," Snow says through gritted teeth.

This motherfucker has the audacity to believe I'm going to be his toy. "I'm no—"

"Can I be your toy?" the blonde girl asks.

"No," Snow answers.

I dig my nails into his hand, and he lets go of me, then I stab my finger into his hard chest. "Are you out of your mind? I'm not your toy, you asshole."

"What the fuck are you doing here?" He ignores what I say.

I square my shoulders because I know my next words are going to piss him off. "I'm here to see Irvin."

He cocks an eyebrow, yanks me from the crowd, and takes me to a more secluded area. "What for?"

"None of your business." I sneer.

"I warned you to stay away from my friends, Lyrical."

"Or what?" I challenge.

He grips my cheeks, dinging his nails into my skin. "I'll kill him if you decide to fuck him."

Would he really kill him? I don't believe that. This is Snow's way of manipulating me to do what he wants.

My cheeks burn in agony, so I push on his chest, but he doesn't flinch. "You're telling me who I can't speak to, but you're fucking Savannah."

He completely ignores my statement as rage fills his pupils. "If I catch you speaking to Irvin, I'll fucking kill him, Blue. I swear I will. I'll send his head to you."

"I hate you."

"The feeling is mutual." He grabs me by the hair, leans forward, and his eyes lock on my lips before he licks his. "Listen to me carefully. Your ass, pussy, and mouth belong to me, and if I catch you even breathing or looking in another man's direction, I'll cut off his body parts and send them to you to remind you who you belong to. You. Are. Mine." He lets me go, and I slap him across the face.

He strokes his cheek, smirking.

The bastard actually smirks at me.

Embarrassment washes over me. "You make me sick."

He doesn't flinch, nor does he show any emotions. "You make my dick hard."

His words turn me on, and I feel my cheeks heating, so I turn around and rush toward the mansion.

"I'm warning you, Lyrical, if you're caught speaking to Irvin, I'll slit his throat."

Ignoring him, I find Irvin and Lilac leaning against the kitchen island as he moves Lilac's hair out of her face, touching her chin.

Welp. My job is done here, so I leave.