Page 39 of Ominous: Part 1
It takes me a minute to speak, but suddenly, my morbid answer doesn’t seem so… terrible. Or, perhaps, it simply seems like he’d understand. I clear my throat again, and I stare straight ahead, at the storm, as I speak. “My parents watched a lot of crime shows when I was growing up.” I lump Reece in with my parents, so I don’t have to explain they’re divorced, and I don’t have to field a question about my dad. There’s not much to say about him, and I like to say as little as possible where he’s concerned. “I kind of became obsessed withCSI.” I never missed an episode, and I was never scared. Not once. Not until I got older, anyway, and Sebastian’s friendhappened.Before that, I imagined being a crime scene investigator. I fantasized about it all the time. Got on forums and message boards from the family computer as a kid, pretending to be older and smarter than I was, skirting around adults playing amateur detective about local, small town crimes.
I take a breath as we make a turn into a subdivision. The worst thought about myself has nothing to do with an abandoned dream job.
Focusing on the here, the now, giving myself a moment, I take in the neighborhood. The homes are enormous, and for a second, shrinking into Eli’s passenger seat, I forget about the question and my answer. Spaced far apart, built high up on hills, every driveway angled upward, these really are mansions. Stone and brick, gray and brown and red, minimum three-car garages attached to each one.
Can Eli see I don’t belong here?
I turn my head to find him staring at me as the wind picks up, knocking the rain sideways, even with the repellant I think Eli has on his car. “Go on.”
I want to ask where we are, but I don’t. Best to get this over with. We’ll be halfway done.
“Anyway, I always thought the reenactments of the murders were fascinating.” I stare out my window, taking in the sheer enormity of the homes. Trees dot the landscape, forests in the backyards, the road winding up and up and up. “I was kind of obsessed with the mind of a violent criminal. But it was never them I empathized with. Instead…” I trail off, my mind frantic for a lie.
I can’t say this out loud.
Eli is quiet. More mansions, circular driveways, stone columns.What the hell have I started?My mind blanks out on any alternative, any way I could spin this into something else.
“I meant it. I swear I won’t judge you.” Eli’s words are hushed, spoken softly. I wouldn’t believe him; except I think I hear something underneath his statement. Something darker. Hidden.Play in the shadows with me.
I squeeze my eyes shut tight, still facing away from him.What if we never come back into the light?
I take a deep breath and a risk as I open my eyes. “I always wondered what it would be like, having sex with a man who killed me at the end of it.” I hurry over the last sentence, and I don’t dare look at Eli. I can’t.
Is this too dark for you?My heart seems to stutter violently in my chest.
Seconds tick past.
Eli says nothing.
Jesus.
Even my eyes feel hot, and I force myself to keep my shoulders back as I wait. If I curl in on myself, hunch over and retreat,he might not believe me.Some people enjoy flaunting their depravity, talking loudly about the underside of humanity. I saw it in the forums, too. I think, though, the most twisted among us speak in whispers.
Still, I can’t help but wonder if I’ve misjudged him. Is he going to turn around right here, right now, take me back home? Will he tell everyone he knows at Trafalgar how insane I am? Did I mistake our connection, thinking it was something deeper than it is? We don’treallyknow each other. This could be just like at Shoreside. Just like withNic.
The thoughts come too fast. I should’ve known better. I gave him a weakness to exploit.
This was a mistake.
I’m about to twist in my seat and tell him I can get a ride home when he finally breaks the silence, still coasting through the wooded, magical subdivision.
“How would he kill you?”
I blink a few times, relaxing the vise grip I have on my phone, unsure if I’ve heard him correctly with all the blood thumping around in my brain. But I play the words back in my head.“How would he kill you?”
Relief spreads through my limbs along with a healthy dose of fear as we drive in the middle of the storm. I can barely speak, my throat so dry, but I manage to ask, “Is that your third question?”
Eli sighs, a sound of surrender. “Fuck.” The word is flustered. I think of last night, when he texted me just that, and a flush of warmth spans from my thighs upward, to my core. “I guess.” He hates it, giving up another question to join his second, but he really wants to know.
The fact he wants it so much, it makes it easier to just say it, out loud, the fucked-up fantasy in my head.Don’t run now.
“He’d press his hand over my mouth, my nose… as he, you know… while we’re having sex.” I have to clear my throat, and my voice is hoarse as I keep going, but I don’t stop. “I’d… suffocate, I guess.”
Eli’s words sound rough, like he’s having a hard time speaking, too. “Is that all? It’s just… like that, in your head?”
It’s never so simple inside my head.“Maybe he…” I trail off, sure I’m about to go too far now.
“Tell me. I want to know.”
