Page 142 of Ominous: Part 1
It takes me a moment to blink through what he’s done, how I’m left, the feeling returning to my fingers, which had grown numb from his hold.
I take a breath, sitting up straighter, slowly bringing my arm back around to my front, adjusting my one piece with my other hand, swallowing down my humiliation.
“You want to know what’s wrong with me?”
I don’t speak, knowing he isn’t done.
“You are.”He takes another step back, his chest heaving. “Because Ialwaysbehave this way.” He seems to have lost some of his arrogance. I think about Dom’s comment about his ego. I would have agreed with him then. But now, Eli’s words seem raw, real. The problem is I can’t tell when he’s performing and when he’s himself. I don’t know if there’s ever actually a difference. “Dominic tried to warn you, didn’t he? My dad, too. It’s why he invited everyone here. No one wants me to be alone with you, because everyone knows you’re too good for me.”
I don’t argue with him, even though a denial is on the tip of my tongue. I cradle my hand to my chest and remind myself he just hurt me.
He glances down at my wrist, and I see a flicker of something in his eyes. Regret? Anger? Surprise? Grief? I don’t know, and he doesn’t apologize.
“I think you should go,” he says quietly, still staring at my hand.
I’m speechless, a flood of emotions dumping down on me at once.
There’s a knock on the door, a pounding, urgent, but neither of us look. He’s gazing at my hand and I’m staring at him, unable to break away.
“Eli.” It’s the only thing I can say.
“No.” The word is cold. Finally, he drags his gaze up to meet mine. He smiles again, and I realize how much I hate this version of him. “You need to leave.”
I have to look away, I have to breathe. My eyes find the floor, and I think of the shattered frame this morning. “What changed?” My words are hoarse, and I squeeze my wrist, relishing in the pain. “From last night, when we fell asleep, even this morning in the bathroom, to… to the picture frame—”
“Let’s not talk about that.”
There’s another knock on the door. Frantic. A man’s voice. “Eli! Open up!”
We both ignore his cousin.
“No,” I say, still staring at the floor. “We’re going to talk about it.” I slide down from the counter, onto my feet, but I don’t turn toward him. I piece together Dom’s words about his mom. The pale band of skin on his dad’s ring finger. “She left you, didn’t she?” I know I shouldn’t poke, and not right now, like this, but I need to know. If his mother is between us in this way, even when she’s in a country across the sea, I need to understand what I’m dealing with. “When did she leave? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Eden…” His words are a whisper.
“You can talk to me about these things, you know. You can tell me the truth. I’m not going to wield it as a weapon against you later—”
“Eden. Please just let this go—”
“Did she leave without saying goodbye?” I force myself to meet his eyes, and I see his are closed. It stabs at my heart. Has no one ever fought for him before? Has no one ever pried? “Did she hurt you? Have you seen her since she—”
“Stop.”
“—left? Do you talk to her—”
“I’m asking you nicely to shut the fuck up, baby girl.” His eyes fly open, locked on me. I’m vaguely aware the knocking on the door has ceased, but I don’t break eye contact with Eli.
“I don’t need a confession of undying love here, but I need you to communicate with me about important things like your mom being very muchalive—”
He closes the space between us and puts his hand over my mouth, not painful, but enough to jolt me into silence. I blink, jerking my head back, but his grip tightens. “Stop. Talking.”
I’m still clutching my hand, but I try to turn my head to get free.
He presses his fingers softly into the side of my jaw. “Shh, okay?”
I glare at him, breathing loudly through my nose.
“Let this go.I’m not giving you this.”He studies me for a moment, and like everything else he does, it feels practiced. “Anything else is yours. The world if you want it.But not this.”
