Page 83 of The Coldest: Stay Dangerous Part 2

I open the side door, letting her walk in first. When we get to the new kitchen island, she leans into it before turning to me, softening her face.

“She told me all about what happened before. I know you want to make things right, Ricky. Part of that is not holding on so tight that you suffocate her. Snow is not your mother, Ricky. She’s not a mirror… more like a vase.”

“A vase?” I smirk, though my fingernails cut into the meat of my palms.

“Yes. This one, to be specific.” She points to her favorite vase, the pale blue one that followed her from the Birch, to Belmopan, then settled here.

When I shot at my father, it broke. Nan found every piece in the rubble and repaired it using a technique she found online. Thin lines of gold cover the vase now where the pieces were glued back together. If I’d never seen the original, I would think it was supposed to look like that.

“You held her together when she broke, but now, she’s fixed. Trust in your abilities that she can hold whatever you give her with a steady hand.” With a pat on my hand, she ambles to the back deck, trying like hell to mask the slight limp she’s acquired.

I lean over her favorite vase, now filled with an assortment of flowers from her garden.

And water.

No leaks visible.

With that information, I make my way toward Snow’s room, where I hear soft music filtering from underneath her closed door.

“Come in,” she calls out after my fingers rap against the wood.

Snow’s laying down, her head hanging off the foot of her bed. A crude beat that sounds like Mars made it plays quietly, and when I inch closer, I can hear her mumble rapping getting lost in it.

“What the hell is that?” I chuckle.

She pops up, grilling me before slapping her laptop closed. “Sorry I only have a beat up Macbook and not a whole studio.”

I move her laptop and notebooks up the bed and take a seat. “Rap it right now. I know the beat playing in a loop in your head.”

Snow rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t snatch away when I grab her hand and rub on her fingers.

“You don’t know me, Richard.”

“I know every millimeter of you, Snow. Let me hear it.”

She narrows her eyes, before grabbing the Macbook and opening it. I glance over the screen, noting how many files she has saved. Most of the dates are from before I went to Colombia, but there’s still quite a few that are recent.

She clicks on one from March. The day after my birthday. It’s crude, like the other beat, but when she starts to harmonize, my eyes snap to her.

She’s looking away, but her lips mouth the words she’s singing. It’s lowkey haunting.

I forgot my Snow could carry a tune.

The clip is less than a minute. She scrolls the folder once more before closing her laptop and rearranging herself on the bed until we’re facing each other.

“I’m going to say something, and I need you to listen, and not speak until I’m done.”

My head jerks as I brace myself. Clearly, she and Nan have planned this–

“I love you.”

My eyes stretch as my brain registers what the fuck my ears just heard. I haven’t heard those words come from that mouth in… far too long. My heart seizes, making tingles shiver through my body as the rest of it catches up.

“I do. I’m in love with you. I have always loved you. I will love you until the day I die, Rico. And because you’ve known me for so long… you know what comes with me loving someone.”

I rub my tongue ring across my bottom lip, holding her gaze. While I cherish the benefits of having Snow’s heart, everyone else who holds a part doesn’t understand the treasure that it is.

“It would be so easy to stay here forever with you,” she continues, voice weakening. “Take care of Mars and Nan during the day, and fuck you at night. Go on whole adventures every day in paradise. Even pop out some twins, get married by the water… I can see that life so clearly, it’s scary, Rico. But… it’s not the life I want.”