Page 90 of Ominous: Part 1
I’m grateful he’s not touching the inside of my wrist. He hasn’t noticed the scars, and if I can help it, he never will.
Despite my annoyance, when he breaks free one of the black bracelets, ripping it off against my skin hard enough to cause a sting, lust drives through my veins, a runaway train.
I hear the softest sound as he drops the bracelet in the cupholder of his car, then circles my wrist again. Once more, I’m struck with a jarring thought.
His fingers belong here, around me.
“Shut up, baby girl.” His tone is soft. He doesn’t sound as cruel as he did before, and something about those four words strung together in one sentence makes me feel like putty in his hands. “I wonder if your mom knows herprecious daughteris slapping boys in dark corners of the library?” He squeezes me harder as my breath catches. “Put on your lying face and smile. I know you do it so well.”
Then he releases me, and before I can think to move, he’s shutting his door, rounding the hood of the car and opening mine.
I get out with one less bracelet than I got in with.
I’m grateful it’s only Mom who steps out onto the porch as we approach. I don’t see Reece in the living room, and I hope he’s in bed with no inclination to come out here and make an ass out of himself, and me.
Mom is in soft pants, a light pink T-shirt which doesn’t quite hide the jagged scar on her arm that sewed up the rods and plates beneath her skin. Her smile is polite as I watch her tuck a strand of short, curly brown hair behind her ear, and I realize maybe that’s where I got the habit from.
The scent of baked goods and Windex seems to have trailed out after Mom, and I glance at Eli, wondering if she can smell the beach on him.
I cross my arms as Eli’s already got a polite smile fixed on his handsome face, looking into Mom’s eyes, having to angle his head down because she’s taller than me, but he towers over both of us. I find myself fighting back a laugh, imagining him looking down on Reece too.
“Um, Mom, this is Eli.” I gesture toward him vaguely, wanting to get this over with. “Eli, Mom. I mean, I don’t know what you want him to call you…”
“Lucy is fine,” Mom says, her Southern accent in full force as she takes Eli’s offered hand.
I cringe a little, but Eli seems totally at ease. He’s clearly not thinking of cops or missing girls or cornering me in the library for a kiss or breaking off one of my sex bracelets and keeping it in his car.
I’m thinking ofallof those things, and I’m grateful Mom forgot to turn on the porch light. Eli’s headlights aren’t directed at us, and the glow from the TV inside is soft, leaving little to illuminate the three of us and the blush on my cheeks.
“Nice to meet you, ma’am.”
I want to kick him.
“Eden has told me so many good things about you.”
I’m going to strangle him.
They drop hands, Mom shifting from foot to foot, looking down like she’s flattered, and I’m annoyed my mom, strong as she is, is succumbing so easily to a few pretty words from a pretty, lying mouth.
But… I can’t even blame her.
“Oh, I’m sure they’re not all good.” Mom laughs a little, finally looking up again and glancing at me, probably trying to read my expression. I try to keep it blank. I don’t want her to read too much into how I act around Eli, because then she might think twice about letting me go to his house Friday, which I do not bring up.
“Well, she said you’re a good cook, you’re the reason she got that car.” He nods toward the old white Sentra, seeming to glow beneath the moonlight as Eli makes shit up, except for the fact it’s all true. “And—”
“I’m tired.” I blurt the words out as Mom narrows her eyes at me, glancing at Eli apologetically. I smile up at him, faking it just like he told me to. I adjust my backpack on my shoulder and say, “Thank you for the ride.” I’m showing teeth with my smile, so wide my cheeks ache.
He smiles back, much more real than mine, although I know he’s full of shit, too. He slips his hands into his pockets. “Anytime,” he says, his gaze lingering on my mouth a moment before he turns back to my mom. “And it was very nice to meet you, Lucy.”
Mom beams at him. “Nice to meet you, too, Eli. Drive careful.”
“Thank you,” he says, then, winking at me as he turns in a way Mom won’t see, he jogs down the steps and strides over to his car.
I can’t grab the handle of the screen door fast enough, and Mom follows me inside while we hear Eli’s engine start up.
“He seems nice,” she says, almost dreamily.
I roll my eyes, staring down the hallway to my room, knowing she won’t see me do it. “I told you, he is.” It’s only half a lie.
