Page 71 of Ominous: Part 1
I hear a scoff. Then, “Next time, don’t get wasted and don’t do coke. I want you to see everything. I want you to want everything.”
I want everything with you.
“And yes. It’s a promise. Consider it a keyword, telling me to shut up. Okay?” He doesn’t use the teacher voice, but there’s something far more demanding in his question.
I don’t need to think about my own consent. “Yes.”
His voice is haughty, but it’s for my benefit. For this game. “Good girl.” I want to faint. “Make sure you have good questions. You only get three.” Before I can protest, he hangs up.
* * *
“What’sthe worst thought you’ve ever had about yourself?”
He pauses in reaching for the water bottle between us. An entire liter, he brought it in with him when he sauntered over to my table, and we’ve been sharing it since he broke the seal. “You’re a thief,” he says, grabbing the bottle and leaning back in his seat, cocking his head and keeping his eyes on me as he drinks.
I tap my pen against my notebook, the page blank. I was pretending to work on an essay I have to write for An Introduction to Ancient Greece and Rome. Differences between their empires. I couldn’t possibly work on it now, because all I’m thinking about is Eli.
“Come up with an original question.” His words are taunting.
I stop tapping my blue pen and lift my brows. “No. There were no rules, except my three-question limit, which seems unfair since you hadfive.”
A cocky smile spreads on his face before he takes another drink, and I can’t stop staring at the way the black choker around his neck moves when he swallows.
The plastic of the bottle flexes beneath his fingers before he rests the water on his knee, ankle over his opposite thigh. He’s dressed in gray pants and a loose, black shirt. I have no idea where he was, and he doesn’t tell me. He didn’t ask what I’d been doing either, although I’m in my favorite pair of ripped black leggings and a white T-shirt tied at my hip, so he probably assumed I just left the gym. He doesn’t pry into why I called him, and I’m happy to keep that secret.
“I did have five,” he agrees, one hand on his shin. “Your answers were illuminating.” He presses his lips together, furrowing his brow, as if he’s thinking, before he adds, “And so was the fact you did blow at the party.”
I bristle with the reminder of it, flexing my fingers on my thigh, concealed beneath the dark wooden table. Thinking of how I felt,high,it makes me want it back. Even the heart medication in my system can’t quelch that desire. “You couldn’t take your eyes off me when I did.” It’s like I’m right back there. I feel his face inches from me, watching me blow coke up my nose from his hand. It was a rush, and I’m not sure it was all from the cocaine. My fingers wrapped around his neck during it feltgood.So did his knee between my thighs.But then he pushed me away.
“I still can’t.”
His words overwhelm me, but unlike the night we met down here, I force myself to hold his gaze, lifting my chin like I can take his charm without flinching.
Even still, I almost say it, then.Shut up.I almost do, but I think of his promise, and it makes me want to blurt it out more, just for a split second.
It’s like I can feel him egging me on, his eyes boring into mine even though it’s fucking hard to hold the contact.
Say it for me.His whispers echo in my mind.
I swallow the keyword down, clearing my throat as my palm grows sweaty. I should’ve taken two pills. I do my very best not to let him see how nervous he makes me. “Answer my question.”
“Last chance to take it back.”
There’s something of a threat in those words. I’m not sure if it’s because what he’s going to say is so awful, or something else. For some reason, I think it’s the latter, but it only makes me want to know more. A little bit of mystery, I can’t help biting off the entire thing, even if it’s going to be bitter as it goes down. “Answer my question,” I repeat, never looking away.
He doesn’t either. “My worst thought is a lot like yours in the fact it has to do with someone else too. But unlike inyourversion, I’m not the victim.”
My stomach flutters and I feel a little breathless, even with my meds, even just sitting in this darkened library. The scent of old books hits me hard as I inhale deeply, trying to relax. If I make a wrong move, I’ll ask another question, and I’ll waste it. It might be a game, but there are rules. I think if there weren’t any between us, we’d go off the rails. A train wreck, nothing would stop us except death.
Relax, Eden. You’re getting carried away.
I think he can see my eagerness, the smallest of smirks pulling at the corners of his mouth.
“I’m the murderer, and it isn’t anything as easy as strangulation.”
I dig my nails into my palm, in the hand I have under the table, my bracelets feeling heavy on my wrist. Every sensation seems amplified as I wait for him to keep going, because he hasn’t given me the entire thought. I force myself not to squirm in my seat as my pulse rings loud in my ears, fingers slippery around my pen.
He takes another drink of water, because he is an asshole, and he holds my gaze the entire time he does, drawing it all out, making me wait. “Have you ever watched someone drown?” He asks the question carefully, like he’s thought of it before. Practiced the words coming out of his mouth. It strikes me as odd, because Eli seems good at any and everything, what’s the use in practice when you embody perfection? His charm seems to know no bounds.
