Page 107 of Ominous: Part 1
But he doesn’t bring me above the surface.
He spins me, wraps his arms around me, my back to his chest, keeping meunder.
No, no, no, Eli.
Let go.
Let go.
Let go.
My mouth opens. I’m about to suck down water, and I won’t be able to stop it. It’s an instinct I can’t overrule. I’m going to either faint, or I’m going to inhale in this pool, and it only takes a few teaspoons to kill you, doesn’t it?
Let me fucking go.
You said you would miss me, you fucking liar.
And just when panic causes tears to spring to my eyes, even here… he releases me.
And the sickest part, I realize like a bolt of lightning to my chest in that second he lets me free, isn’t what he did to me.
It’s the twisted feeling I have right now,in this moment before I draw in air.
Gratitude.
I’m grateful to him.
I find my feet, just barely, bursting through the surface of the pool into the hot September air, and I realize the sky is darker than I left it, and his hand is still on me, wrapped around my upper arm.
I jerk out of his grip, spinning around, not trusting my back to him.
And when I’m finally,finallyfree, heaving in air with such force I forget to be mad—I survived, didn’t I?—my pulse is erratic. I can feel it butterfly in my chest, loopy movements, dropping and rising. No hummingbird pulse. Those beats are constant. This isn’t.
But I’m still breathing, and as I take a few life-preserving steps backward, away from Eli, it’s all I can focus on.
Breathe. Breathe.Breathe.
I smooth the hairs come free from my braids back, nervous, fluttery movements like my weak pulse. I feel a few strands of hair along my shoulder blades, stuck lower to my spine, and I don’t know why I’m focused on it.
Thunder rumbles overhead but I don’t react to that.
I almost died without the storm.
Blinking chlorine from my eyes, lips still parted, abs contracting with every exhale, I realize that isn’t quite true.
Dark green irises are locked on mine.
Eli is worse than thunder. Than lightning. He’s spread out like rain, but more volatile, like wind. Hard hitting like hail. He damages all of me. A fucking hurricane, impossible to ignore.
“Eden…” His voice is rough.
I keep my hands resting on my head, elbows bent. “I wanted it.” The words are jagged. For a moment under there, I thought I might never speak again.
He has one hand just under the surface of the water, clenched into a fist, the other by his side. He looks as if he’s desperate to get to me, but he’s frozen. So unlike him, I’m not sure if it’s true.
I feel a little dizzy, off balance, but my pulse is slowing.
I can feel his skin under my fingernails, what I raked off when I fought him. I don’t look to see if he’s bleeding, and I’m not sure what I’d hope for more.
