Page 40 of Ominous: Part 1
My entire body grows incredibly hot. I cough a little, for something to do with my mouth that isn’t spouting off all of these insane truths that should be locked away. “Maybe he’d have to… hit me. Or punch me, so I… stop fighting—”
“You’re trying to get away? Defend yourself?”
I give him these questions, because I can’t think clearly about limits when we’re prying into the darkest recesses of my brain. “It’s only human nature.”
“He punches you.” Eli says it slowly, like he’s clarifying. Like he really wants this all to play out inside his mind, too.
“Yes.” My word is whispered, barely a breath.
“Do you like it? Does it hurt? Is it the pain you enjoy?”
So many questions, so many lines, but my mind is racing and my heart, too; I don’t keep track. “Yes. To all of it. Yes.”
“So, he’s keeping you pinned down while he assaults you and stops you from breathing?”
I think of what I wanted last night. Eli all over me. The ways I wonder how it would feel. “He’d use his body weight to keep me still. Yeah.” I still don’t look at him, even as he turns left, into a driveway. Up and up, then Eli spins his car around, and we’re reversing, until the world grows dark.
He reaches for something attached to his visor, and a garage door comes down, trapping us inside.
I finally face him, sure he can’t see the extent of my nervousness in the darkness.
Suddenly, no longer in motion, I don’t want to talk about what I just said. I silently hope he’ll let it go like the first answer I gave him.
“Is this your house?” I glance at the two spaces beside him. This place is nothing like a garage I’ve ever been inside. It’s clean. There’s not much beyond a black Tesla, a green and yellow riding mower, and what looks like tires and car tools on a built-in shelving system behind Eli’s car.
He has one hand still clenched tight around the wheel, the other holding onto the shifter in a grip that looks painful, fingers digging in with such force I see the way his hand is turning red, veins straining against his skin.
His eyes gleam from the lights of his dashboard. “Ghost”by Halsey is playing from his speakers, and my thoughts snag on my own surprise. I didn’t expect it would be a song he’d listen to, but it’s playing from his phone’s connection.
I realize his jaw is clenched as he stares at me, and I suddenly don’t know what to do with my hands, my mouth, or where I should look or if I should get out or…
“If I don’t turn my car off, we’re going to die in here. I have one more question and you better answer it fucking fast, or they’ll find us just like this.” He jerks his chin, indicating the interior of his car.
“No,” I correct him, unwavering, ignoring his theatrical threat. “You asked two more questions after your third. I gave you a bonus.” A few actually, that I couldn’t count, and I only mean to tease him, but my tone is all wrong, not light, and neither of us smile.
He presses his lips together and doesn’t look away from me. For once, I don’t look away either.
The song loops again, and I didn’t realize he had it on repeat. I don’t know ifherealized it.
As the chorus comes on, I glance in the side view mirror.
I see exhaust fumes in the glow of his red taillights.
“Eli.” I could reach for the door handle. It opens easily. I know that from the first night he gave me a ride. It would take nothing for me to get out, to walk through the door which I assume leads into his house, or else out the door on my side of the garage, which probably opens up to the yard.
I’m not trapped in here.
But I don’t move.
It’s probably my imagination, but I’m suddenly overcome with a wave of exhaustion, and even my pulse, always frantic like a hummingbird, drops to something far slower.
“Are you scared to die?” The same quality ofrestraintis in his words when he asks the question anyway, ignoring my protest completely.
I take a deep breath, tearing my gaze away from the red-tinted smoke curling up behind his car.
Meeting his eye, I reach across the center console, and I see it, the moment before I get to what I’m after. His lips part, his breath hitches, and he thinks I’m going to touch him.
It was anticipation in his eyes.
