Page 89 of Ruthless God

“She’s more than a pawn, Keanu. You say that again and I’ll cut your tongue out of your mouth,” I say, irritated.

“No matter how you spin it, Snow. That’s all she will be. Lyrical is the target. Even our loved ones can become pawns in this type of lifestyle, and women have always been pawns to us because we use them to have our kids and keep them at home. They are always second to us.”

He’s right. I don’t like using Lyrical as a pawn in my scheme for revenge, but she’s benefiting from it too. I want her to be protected, and I will not rest until I have my father’s head on a silver platter.

“I’ll set up the arrangement for Lyrical and I to elope, but let’s get this dead body off my floor. It’s starting to stink.”

Lyrical

Snow: Come home.

Iread 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.

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