Page 78 of Ominous: Part 1
I hit my hand again, and again, and again, and later, when I’m in bed, my chest aching from Dad’s blows, my knuckles bloody from mine, I stare up at the ceiling, thinking of walking away from Eden in the goddamn library.
I think of Mom never looking back.
She was just like me.
I’m just like her.
A state of innocence.
I can’t be that to you, Eden. I can’t do what she did.
My phone buzzes under my pillow, and I run my tongue over my bottom lip, swollen. Dad doesn’t usually hit me in the face, but I can’t blame him for that one. I almost broke his cheekbone, and he was on his back, and I think he was fucking terrified. It felt good, his fear.
I grab my phone and hold it above my head.
My heart lurches in my chest, then a heavy feeling settles in my gut. It’s not guilt. No matter what I think about Mom, about Eden, about what I could do to her, I’m not going to stay away. I’m selfish, and nothing will change that.
No, it’s the feeling of longing. The pang of wanting to be somewhere that isn’t here.
I rub my thumb over the screen, reading the words again and again.
Eden: I’m going to bed. We don’t have to talk about your mom. But don’t cut me down like that again. And don’t fucking walk off either, okay?
I take a breath, and another, smiling as I reply.Me: You got it, baby girl.
She takes a minute to respond, and I’m staring at my phone until the screen goes dim, feeling an acute sense of disappointment she might have fallen asleep.
But then she replies.
Her: I should’ve told you to shut up back there.
Fuck.I shove off my covers, my fan on overhead as I turn and press my nose to the pillow she slept on, inhaling deeply. It smells like her. Like her hair. Violet and goddamn peaches. My hand comes to my dick, and I look up again at my phone, typing with one hand.
Me: Why’s that?
She hesitates, dots popping up, disappearing, popping up again.Come on, baby girl. You said you’re not innocent.
Her: You could’ve gotten all that misplaced anger out.
I bite my lip, squeezing my erection over my boxers, closing my eyes and thinking of Eden’s body, her fat fucking ass. Her letting me hurt her,beggingme to.
My chest is heavy, and when I open my eyes, my fingers are shaky as I type.
Me: Is that what you wanted me to do?
Her response is faster this time.Her: Yes.
Just one word, and I’m aching all over for her.Me: What if I really did it? What if I really slapped you?
I push my boxers down, stroking myself, swiping my thumb over the bead of precum on the tip, wishing it was Eden’s saliva. I want her pretty fucking mouth all over me.
Her: I’d probably like it.
Goddamn.Me: Would you get on your knees for me and let me do it again?
Her: As much as you wanted.
My pulse is loud in my head, thoughts of her kneeling for me in the library infecting my brain.
