Chapter Eight

Lyrical

T onight is the night of the hunting party that the American Gods are hosting. Everyone is there, including Lilac and Winter. They wanted to be a part of it. I pleaded with them to stay behind with me to have a girls' night instead, but they turned me down, so now I'm at a hole-in-the-wall restaurant. This is the first time I'm actually trying to enjoy myself since Bailey died. We used to go barhopping, but now that she is gone, some of the things don't seem fun without her.

I eat my wings and fries while doodling on a piece of paper. I can't concentrate, because I'm thinking about Snow. It was stupid for me to not go to the party because I always wanted to go. I want to know how it would feel to be chased down in the woods and fucked until I can't take it anymore, but I don't want to give Snow any more of myself than I already have. Plus, I'm not going to let him order me around. He has always been bossy and possessive over me, but I chalked it up as him being an overprotective friend. Now, I realize he was acting that way because he wanted to fuck me. Last night when he told me I have nothing to be ashamed of because of my kink, it made me feel a lot better about myself and I quickly forgot we aren't friends. It makes things ten times harder between us because now I know what his dick tastes like. I want more of him. I loved that he forced me to do what he wanted me to do. But I know he's using my fantasies to manipulate me, so I'm going to stay away from him until the wedding.

Someone clears their throat. Glancing up, I see June leaning against the booth. He has the brightest smile on his face.

"Is this seat taken?"

My eyes drop down to his muscles peeking through his dark shirt and my eyes trace the veins under his tan skin. I quickly look away and shake my head no.

"No."

He sits across from me and steals a fry from my plate. "Where have you been lately? I haven't seen you at a party since the one on the first day of school."

"Were you looking for me?"

He nods. "Yeah, I wanted to see if you would like to hang out."

"Partying isn't my thing."

"Neither is it mine."

"Then why were you there?"

He steals a wing off my plate, devouring it. "My ex-girlfriend dragged me there." He rubs his beard. "Anyhow, what are you drawing?"

I cock my eyebrow. "How did you know I was drawing?"

"I was watching you, and you seemed like you're concentrating."

I fold the piece of paper and place it into my pocket. "Sketching nonsense."

The waitress refills my cup with Coke, then she asks June if he wants anything and he tells her no.

He gives me a quizzical look. "What's your relationship with Snow?"

I don't want to speak about my relationship with Snow. I don't want to speak about how he plays into my fantasies and how I want to be touched by him, or that we're on bad terms.

"I don't have a relationship with him," I lie.

He leans back into the booth. "When we were at the party, he told me I needed to stay away from you and that you're his new toy."

My cheeks burn. "Snow can be unhinged."

He crinkles his nose and runs his fingers through his hair. "So, you're not the one he's marrying?"

"I am. Sadly, I'm marrying the devil."

"Shit. I wanted to shoot my shot."

Even if I wasn't supposed to marry Snow, I wouldn't date June; he's not my type.

"I'm sorry."

"I figured you were. The way he looks at you. And the picture he posted on Instagram."

I raise my eyebrows and tilt my head to the side. "What picture?"

"The picture he posted three hours ago. Did you not see? He tagged you in it."

He yanks out his phone from his pocket, taps on the screen, and shoves it in my hand. It's a sketch of me half naked and sitting on his lap. Snow is wearing a suit and I have a collar around my neck. That's the most tame picture I drew of him. In the caption is the word, Mine . This is my personal stuff that no one is supposed to see. He's doing this because I didn't go to his stupid orgy party.

I scroll through his comments, and someone asks if I am going to be his wife. The bastard has the nerve to comment "Maybe." With heart emojis.

"The picture is hot as fuck," June murmurs.

This son of a bitch is working my last nerve.

I grab my phone from my purse and type a message to Snow.

Me: Take down the fucking picture.

Snow: No.

Me: It's degrading.

Snow: It's art.

Me: When I bash your skull in, would that be considered art?

Snow: My dick is hard. I love it when you talk dirty to me.

Me: *middle finger emoji*

Snow: Let's make something clear, Blue. When I tell you to do something, you do it. If I tell you to jump, you say how high. You're not getting the picture that I own you, and there isn't anything you can do about it.

Without acknowledging June, I get up from the table, strap my purse over my shoulder, and leave the restaurant.

Anger boils in my blood. He wants to make my life a living hell because I won't bow down to him.

He thinks there isn't any consequences of his actions, that I'm some weak bitch who's going to roll over and take his shit. He has another thing coming. I can't believe he actually posted the picture.

I drive to the hardware store and buy a gas can and matches, then I stop by a convenience store and load the can with gas. When I drive back home, I braid my hair, put on my green wig that I wore for Halloween last year, and throw on my black hoodie along with a pair of shades.

With the gas can in my hand, I stride through the woods that leads to his mansion. I'm trying to do my best to keep my cool with him, but he keeps pushing my buttons. He keeps testing my patience. I've seen other people experience his wrath, but I never thought in a million years I'll be on the receiving end of it.

The sky has darkened by the time I make it to his mansion. The garage is closed, so I type in the code to open the door.

Luckily, there isn't anyone outside and no one knows I'm down here. I hear the music faintly coming from the backyard. The thought of Snow joining the orgy party makes jealousy slither down my spine, but I shouldn't be jealous. He has every right to fuck anyone he wants.

Searching the toolbox in the garage, I find a crowbar, then use it to knock down the cameras one by one. I don't want to burn any of his friends' vehicles, just his.

Lifting the can, I douse gasoline all over his black Aston Martin, light the match, and toss it at the car. A small flame glows and before I know it, the whole car is on fire, so I run out of the garage, rush toward the woods, and watch the whole side of the garage engulf in flames.

It's pretty, actually, the way the flame dances to life, lighting up the darkened sky.

Keanu, Jameson, Irvin, and Snow rush to the mansion. People gather around as the fire truck eventually shows up and they put the flames out. Irvin pushes Keanu as they get into an argument.

A victorious smile spreads across my lips as I look at the horror on Snow's face. He barges inside of the smoking garage, then several minutes later, he walks out.

It feels good to get revenge, to see the anguish on his face.

Snow grabs his phone from his pocket and stares at the screen, a frown creasing his brow as he looks at the woods. I swallow thickly and hide behind a tree, but I know he can't see me—it's too dark and the moon is the only source of light here.

He tucks his phone back into his pocket. He looks to the woods again as if he can see me. He tilts his head, his nose toward the sky, rolling his shoulders. He grabs his phone from his pocket once again to type something on the screen.

My phone dings with a message from Snow. With my heart in my throat, I click on the envelope icon and read the text message.

Snow: Run, Blue. Pray I don't catch you.