OMINOUS: Book II (Ecstasy 3), page 38
Even for Eli.
Someone laughs.
I see the flash of a camera phone.
The sound of a key ring jingling comes from down the hall, footsteps over the tile floors. Someone is running. A police officer, the security guard, someone who’s going to take Eli away from me.
I have this wild urge to turn around, so Eli and I are back-to-back. I want to defend him from anyone who might hurt him. I want to scream at everyone to fuck off so I can think for a second.
I take a deep breath as the clanking of keys gets closer, frantic voices, the sound of a walkie-talkie.
“Eli.” I say his name as a whisper. It’s so quiet inside these four walls, I don’t need to speak any louder. And I think, no matter what was going on around us, he’d hear me.
He always does, even when I don’t say a word.
Dominic has snot and blood dripping down his nose from apparently being punched, and he’s picked his head up, still trying to force the chair off of his chest. But his hands slip on the metal, and with Eli’s pressure downward, one of the legs slips too, and it lodges itself right at the hollow of Dominic’s throat.
He gags, eyes flying open, his pale skin turning from red and pink to paper white.
He’s staring at Eli with absolute horror, and it seems as if everyone takes a collective breath.
I don’t move, but I say his name again. “Eli.”
There’s a voice through a walkie-talkie, down the hallway.
Someone else saying, “He’s going to kill him,” in a hushed, awed sort of whisper.
They’re going to take you away from me.
Squeaking on the floor, sneakers over tile, hushed voices, the panting of a runner’s breath.
I close the space between me and Eli, and I grab the back of his choker, jerking him as hard as I can toward me.
At first, he resists. No words, just a rigid set to every muscle of his body, planting him to the floor as he stares down at Dominic, the wobbly bottom ring of the chair leg pressing further into Dom’s throat, his skin nearly swallowing it up.
I twist my fingers around the strip of black leather of Eli’s choker, pulling harder as the jangle of keys gets louder, the voice in the walkie-talkie asking if backup is needed, and there’s no response because the security guard or police officer or whoever it is doesn’t know yet. They haven’t seen yet.
But they’re about to.
“Eli, baby.”
A moment of silence.
A suspension of time.
Then, all at once, Eli releases the chair. Dominic knocks it off immediately, and it clanks to the floor, echoing loudly in the classroom as I spin Eli around by my grip on his choker.
My hands come to either side of his face, and his are down by his side. He’s breathing hard, but he’s smiling, his hair falling into his eyes, only revealing glimmers of the darkest green. I smooth my thumbs over his lips, knowing it’s almost over.
We’re almost over.
There’s a loud voice, commanding, announcing the guard’s arrival. “Back away from her.” A show of authority, a voice meant to protect.
But all the protection I need is right here between the palm of my hands. I just wish I’d figured out how to protect him from his poisoned mind.
I wasn’t enough.
I wasn’t enough.
“I love you,” I say, and nothing else matters. Not Dominic rising from the ground, an anguished sob in his throat, words spewing to the new arrivals as he’s saying something about his sister and Lake Wisteria and things I don’t care about. Not the flutter of voices and flash of phones and the rising commands of the guard or officer’s words for Eli to back up, to give me space, as if I’m not the one touching him.
I know what they see.
Me, five foot two, him over six feet tall, death in his eyes, dark and dangerous around every edge of him. I know what they’ve heard. He pinned a classmate to the floor with the legs of a chair over his heart.
I know what it looks like. He’s deranged, and I’m innocence to corrupt.
But they miss my darkness. They overlook my soul. It bleeds for him because it’s just like his. A mirror. He’s like looking into a mirror, except I don’t hate my reflection in him.
I love him. I love myself. I love us.
And he’d never hurt me. Not in a way I wouldn’t want. I think, maybe, I’m the only person in the world who could say something like that about Eli Addison.
I’m under his protection, even from him.
The realization is staggering, and when his cold fingers lace through mine over his face, it feels a little hard to stand. I’m dizzy, so drunk off his love, that I forget to be afraid of the future.
What happens when we walk out of here.
I smooth my thumbs over his full lips, and he turns his head, chasing the movement, his tongue running over my finger as his eyes close.
I feel as if I’m standing on the side of that mountain in Virginia again. As if I’m so close to diving over the edge.
His teeth scrape the knuckle of my thumb, his long lashes fluttering close to his cheekbones, eyes still closed.
“You are so, so sweet,” he says, his breath over my skin. “No one deserves you.”
My heart tightens, my lower lip trembles, and I splay my fingers, so I can touch more of his face, my thumbs still on his mouth. “You do,” I whisper, the words caught in my throat. “You do.”
His eyes snap open, locked on mine, his pupils round, black edging the green. A soft smile pulls on his mouth. “I don’t think so,” he says, and for once, I hear something like grief in his words.
It cuts through me, sharp and fierce. He’s given up. He thinks he’s too much. He might spend his entire life thinking he’s too much.
And before I can say anything at all, before I can decide if it’s a truth or a lie, reality edges in, and Eli is pulled violently away from me.
35
Eli
I slip down the stairs of the library, silent and quick, my body sore from the officer’s manhandling. I am supposed to be off campus, Janelle is waiting for me in the parking lot, and in the coming days, I might never be allowed to set foot inside this school again.
It was a good run though. I could’ve been taken off campus in handcuffs, were it not for Dad’s backing and harsh words to the headmaster through speakerphone.
Regardless, my time is limited, and I saw Dominic’s ghost-like figure stumble this way, and I know he’s intending to tunnel through here to avoid me and find an alternate route to the senior lot. But he must forget we were, once upon a time, best friends.
I know him better than anyone. Perhaps even better than Winslet ever did.
She turns her head as he trails his lips up her long, pale throat. It is fascinating, watching the two of them together. They look alike, it’s undeniable they’re related. And I think that’s why I can’t turn away. The alcohol makes my head swim, and I know I will be sick soon, but for now, I am too intrigued to walk out and find Luna.
Just knowing she’s downstairs, how pissed off she would be with Dom’s hands all over Winslet’s body… it turns me on more.
“Eli,” Winslet whispers, her voice full of need as I sit in the plush pink chair of hers, watching her and her brother on the bed. He’s on top of her, his knees on either side of her hips, his shirt off, the muscles flexing in his back. He has a nice, straight spine. I want to trail my fingers down it as I watch him from behind while he touches Winslet. “Come play with me.”
Dom picks his head up, his fingers coming to her throat as he looks at me, over his shoulder, spine moving, muscles flexing. His eyes narrow, his lips parted as he pants. But he can’t deny his erection, straining against his fitted khaki pants. After a moment, our eyes locked, a smile curves his lips.
“You know everything now,” he says softly, squeezing Winslet’s neck so hard she can’t breathe, her back lurching as she tries to grind her pelvis against Dom’s.
What would it be like, to have someone I could do anything to? Hurt, choke, fuck, share a nasty little secret with?
I can’t imagine letting my guard down enough to be with someone in this way. And now, they’ve invited me in on a secret I could ruin them with. The power is a heady thing.
“Come on,” Dom says, smirking. “Touch me.”
My dick is aching, and my head feels like it has water tumbling around inside it, the way alcohol reacts with my body. I don’t know why I’m cursed this way. I think, perhaps, I could live a little more peacefully if I could get shit faced all the time.
Then again, maybe I’d find myself in prison. Dumb sociopaths end up there so often.
I run the base of my hand over my cock, licking my lips. “Fuck her. If it’s interesting, I’ll fuck you too.”
He is having a breakdown in the same aisle I plucked Chaucer from all those months ago, when I stalked Eden down in the library and convinced her to let me give her a ride home.
His cries are quiet, muffled sounds, and I feel a strange sense of happiness at the noises. He didn’t want to press charges, which is another reason I’m not on my way to Wake County’s jail right now. But I know why he didn’t. Not because he loves me—although maybe he does still. But more so, he didn’t want me to share his secret.
I stand at the end of the aisle, among the shadows cast by the lack of windows in this space, and I watch him bury his head in his hands, his shoulders shifting as he leans against the rows of books. Winslet would come down here sometimes, waiting for us after practice. I didn’t make it a habit of touching her, and certainly not with Dominic. But sometimes, I’d feel her up in the aisles when he wasn’t watching. A shared secret between the two of us, and I knew she’d wield it as a weapon to hurt Dom when he had invested too much time into Luna.
It turned me on more, knowing when I grabbed Winslet’s breasts and sucked on her neck, she was thinking of all the ways to piss off my alleged best friend.
I fold my arms, leaning against the end of the aisle, knowing Eden is safe with Janelle.
But as I replay my fantasies in my head, then change myself with Dominic, as I think about him touching her and getting his cum on her legs in my car, it becomes very hard to stay still.
Then I imagine his lips on hers, in the darkness of his Mercedes while I was being forced to talk to Dr. Langley and convince him I tripped, and I couldn’t get to my girl.
A flash of violence seems to grip my entire body, and I chew the inside of my cheek to keep myself rooted to the spot.
It’s as if Dominic senses my presence at that exact moment. Like he can feel all the horrid fucking things I want to do to him, and they don’t hold a candle to what happened in Ms. Romano’s classroom.
Slowly, his shoulders stiffen, and he lifts his head, his arms coming down by his sides, fingers rolled into fists.
His gleaming, red eyes meet mine, and I watch with satisfaction as he backs up a step. He has no more blood on his face, but his nose is red and a little swollen. There’s a red mark on the hollow of his throat, and I imagine him speaking through it, losing his voice to lung cancer, cigarettes eating his insides. I imagine the pleasure I’d take in watching him break down, in that way.
He doesn’t speak for a moment, and neither do I.
Silence stretches between us, and I smile lazily at him, but inside my head, he’s shoving Eden’s head against his car’s window. He’s hurting her. Making her bleed. And she fucking loves it.
I’m not sure which part pisses me off the most.
All I know is I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to murder someone as much as I do Dominic Landers. Not even my own mother.
What have you done to me, Nightmare Girl?
“You know you’ll get suspended.” Dominic finally speaks, sniffling as he does. His voice doesn’t waver though, but a hiccup slips through. I knew he had been drinking. I could smell it on him. I’m sure the officer could too, and that also worked in my favor. Sometimes, I think I am blessed with the best luck in all the things that don’t fucking matter at all. “Because I told the truth, about kissing her, you’re going to leave her with me the rest of the year?” He laughs, but he steps back as he does, glancing down to watch his feet.
My blood runs cold, but I force my smile to stay.
“You’re a fucking idiot.” He laughs again, hiccups too, and stumbles back one more step, fingers still fisted at his sides. His eyes lift from the floor to mine. “She’ll be grieving you, you know that? She’ll be sobbing over you, and I’ll be there.” His white teeth flash as he shakes his head. “I’ll be there. And where the fuck will you be, huh?” He taunts me with things he can’t possibly understand are my worst fears. But maybe he can. Maybe I’ve been careless in the way I’ve shown my hand. How much she means to me.
I can’t let this suspension happen. It’s really as simple as that.
He brings his fist to his heart, over his uniform shirt. “I’ll be her fucking shoulder to cry on, and I’ll be her fucking dealer, and I won’t charge her a goddamn dime, because watching her suck coke off my finger will be better than anything money can buy. Grabbing her ass, fucking her from behind, knowing you’re locked away in Idaho seething over it all?” He snorts, laughing so hard. “God, I thought you were smart, but you are a dumb motherfucker.”
It feels as if he’s exposed all my nerve endings. As if I’m chewing on tinfoil.
It takes effort to move forward, one step, then another, watching as he presses his back to the row of books, the smile slipping from his face.
“Yeah?” I ask him quietly, arms still crossed. I dip my chin and stare at my boots, my tied laces, thinking of all the things he said.
Thinking of all the things Eden told me about space and breaking up and blocking my number. All of this, after she… kissed him.
“Yes,” he breathes the word more than says it, a sneer, and a sort of curse.
I take another step without looking up, but I know Dominic won’t run from me. He’s not that much of a coward. Not yet.
“How did she taste?” I slowly look up, and I watch his pupils dilate.
His face turns ashen, his throat rolling as he swallows. I smile wider at him. I think of what she said, when she was high and between us at the beach.
“I don’t think I want this.”
“Did she tell you no? Or did she give in so easily?”
He looks down. I know the answer to my first question without him speaking a word. Anger curls beneath my skin, fighting at it, trying to spike through it. It is a living, breathing thing.
She told him no.
I cock my head, trying my very best to stay calm when all I can imagine, over and over again, is his hand slamming her head against a car window after she fucks his gearshift. “Did you hurt her?” I ask quietly, taking another step.
He has to tilt his head up, just the slightest measure, and I step even closer, until my chest brushes his when I inhale, and he is pressed completely against the row of books, his nostrils flaring. “You saw Winslet, didn’t you? You watched her walk away.” His voice cracks, and I can practically taste the alcohol on his lips as he speaks.
“You hurt her.” No wonder she was so angry the next morning. Perhaps in her twisted little mind, she thought I’d failed her, leaving her alone with Dominic.
I imagine her pain in his line of sight. It feels raw, like he saw her naked. Worse than. My heart thrums fast and powerful inside my chest.
He swallows again. I can hear it. He averts his gaze too, like he did the morning after all this happened. I should’ve snapped his neck then. I should’ve pressed the lit end of his cigarette to the hollow of his throat. I should’ve decorated my Latin class with his brain matter just this morning. An hour ago, if that.
“I pushed her away from me after I…”
“After you what?” My body is thrumming with anger.
He makes a strangled sound. “After I pulled her hair.” Despite his reluctance to tell me, there’s a sick satisfaction in his words when his eyes come to mine.
My nostrils flare but my lips are curved upward into a frozen smile.
Dom’s eyes dilate and he is now afraid. “I mean, I didn’t… hurt her, hurt her.”
As if the distinction matters. “You pulled her hair. You pushed her away.” I repeat his words. I guess the rest. “After she told you no? You never did like that word, did you? Is that how it started with Winslet? Did she say no too?”
He shakes his head. “I didn’t mean to—”
My fingers come to his throat, and I shove his head back against the shelf. His hands come to my forearm, squeezing tight, but his face is pale, and his eyes stay on mine. “You hurt her.” I whisper the words over his lips, and I fucking hate him.
And not only for what he did.
But for what he’s going to do.
I can see it, right now, in this moment as his fear turns to amusement and the alcohol on his breath lends him a bravery he doesn’t usually have.
He smiles at me. Even his grip loosens on my arm. “I’m going to hurt her more,” he says, his teeth clenched as he speaks. “I’m going to make her wish she was dead. I don’t know what you did, but I know you had something to do with Winslet.” His voice breaks on his sister’s name. I don’t care about her. I don’t care about him either, and the more he keeps speaking, the more I think I’m going to actually kill him. My fingertips bite into his neck, but I don’t stop him from breathing. There is some sick part of me wanting to hear what he has to say. All this time I thought I was only a sadist. But I imagine Eden choking me, and I feel my cock getting hard as Dom keeps talking.
Maybe I like to hurt a little too.
“I’m going to fuck her up, and you won’t be able to do a thing about it.” He grins, triumphant, and my blood runs hot beneath my skin, my pulse flying in my temples. “I never thought a girl would make you weak. I never thought I could take something from you. But I guess it’s true, what they say.” He leans in closer, impaling himself on my grip around his throat. His lips brush mine, his eyes lifting to my own. “Never say never.”
