Page 171 of Ominous: Part 1

I nod once, still feeling as if I’m betraying my brother in some way. He’s always been there for me, except that one time, but it wasn’t even his fault. Really, it was mine. I never said anything. I could’ve screamed, I think. I mean, his friend had a hand over my mouth, but I could’ve screamed for him, couldn’t I? And this is more important anyway.

This could be life or death, couldn’t it?

“I’m so sorry, Eden.” Mom’s apology is strange. I blink, confused, but she keeps talking. “You shouldn’t have to deal with that. Is it… every night?” Her brows are furrowed as she looks at me.

“I mean, I’m asleep usually by the time he comes in.” That’s not true, but I don’t want to talk about my lack of sleep with her. I don’t even want to hint at it. She’ll bring it up again.Therapy.“I think he needs a job though. Something to do, you know?”

Mom hums softly in agreement, and she’s still looking at me, but it’s like she’s looking through me. I wonder what she’s thinking. I wonder what there is to do. I think of last night, the guy in Seb’s truck, with the rifle.Dope.But I’ve thought of that word, a lot. It could’ve just been weed Dom meant. He’s an asshole, he was just baiting my brother. What does he really know about him?

“Yeah,” Mom says at last, exhaling and straightening away from the counter.

Down the street, I hear the purr of Eli’s engine, and butterflies and nerves both tumble around in my stomach. I’m tucking my hair behind my ear, pulling at my shirt, running my fingers over the pleats of my skirt.

“Do you know… Has he been sleeping okay?” Mom asks quietly as I turn toward the front door. “Have you heard him sleepwalking or anything like that?”

Sleepwalking.My blood runs cold as I think of the noise I heard the other night. The sirens he said he couldn’t hear. I remember a whispered conversation once, one I overheard between Mom and Reece. About Reece’s dad and the drugs he used to silence the things he wasn’t supposed to see. Wasn’t supposed to hear. Because they… weren’t there.

But I’ve always been good at fabricating things that aren’t real, building castles inside my head on foundations of sand. Am I really trustworthy in this? What if I imagined the sirens? What ifI’m the one seeing things?

“No,” I lie to Mom as Eli’s engine cuts off, and I hear him close his door a second later. I reach for the lock on the door, flipping it off. “No, I think he sleeps okay.” I open up the door, rays of sunlight spilling in, shooting from behind Eli—a dark angel in the morning light—and I tell my mom bye as I let Sebastian down and leave with my Adonis.

29

Eli

She reachesfor the popcorn in my lap, but her eyes never leave the screen. We’re alone in the back row; this theater will probably close down soon. It plays movies that have left most theaters, and the tickets are cheaper because of it. But it was her idea. She wanted to watchthismovie, so here we are, being relegated with an attempt to keep the Harry Potter franchise alive.

I couldn’t care less about Harry fucking Potter, but what I care a lot about is my arm around her shoulders, the way the cupholder between us is flipped up, and she’s leaning into my side, her legs bouncing, her attention wholly stolen by magic.

She chews with her mouth closed, but I still hear the crunch of popcorn between her teeth. My eyes are fixed on her mouth, the curve of her cheekbones when the screen flashes bright.

And the fact she’s wearing the school uniform skirt, but she’s rolled it up so high, I almost wanted to tug it down as soon as we got out of my car in the parking lot and some old fuck’s eyes went to her ass.

I bite my bottom lip, dropping my gaze down to her thick thighs, spread wide from the fact she’s sitting. I catch the slivers of stretch marks in her skin as the screen goes white, filling the darkened room with light.

My erection is uncomfortable under this tub of popcorn, and I shift in my seat, trying to relieve some of the pressure.

When I move, her hand is in the bucket, fingers poised to grab a handful, and my eyes meet hers, and in the light from the screen, I see her cheeks flush pink.

“What?” she asks, a sheepish smile pulling on her lips.

I want to touch her thigh. I want to slip my hand under her skirt. I want to push her underwear aside and feel her again, pushing two fingers into her tight cunt as her walls contract around me. I want to get on my knees and go down on her, right here in the aisles of this shitty theater.

I want to taste her, everywhere. I want to pull her onto my lap, and she’ll dry fuck me, and maybe it’ll be an accident but maybe my cock will push aside her underwear and I’ll crown her, and she’ll freeze with her hands at my neck. Then she’ll tell me to keep going. To fuck her for the first time just like that and—

“Nothing.” I return her smile, dancing my fingers along her upper arm. I lean down and press a kiss to the tip of her nose, then nudge my own with hers. My mouth is over her lips when I speak again. “I just love watching you watch something you love.”

She smiles and I feel it on my lips. Then, with one hand still in the popcorn tub, she’s kissing me, no tongue, just a sweet, soft kiss.

And even though it tests every ounce of patience and resolve I have, I don’t let myself grab her thigh. Not one time.

* * *

She sitson the floor while I scroll through my email, trying to find one from a guy about a Supra. I told her to sit in my lap, but she’s texting Janelle. I know because I read the message over her shoulder when she didn’t know I was.

Dad is away, I’m not sure for how long, but I told Eden he wouldn’t be back tonight. Even if he comes, it’s not like he’d care she’s here.

I click open the email, see the guy is trying to get a grand more than his shit is worth. I’m typing out my final offer, rolling my eyes at his idiocy, when I realize Eden is no longer sitting on the floor. She’s standing behind me, and she leans in to rest her chin on my shoulder, her phone abandoned on the floor.