Page 242 of Ominous: Part 1

Her lips are pressed together, and I wonder how quick her heart is beating right now.

“And all that fur, all that skin, it takes more than you’d think to break through it with a rock. But the skull is tiny, and it’s not a lot, to crush it.” I sigh, glancing at the ceiling. “When Dad found out about it, they took me to Idaho for the first time.”

I don’t speak for long moments, just staring at my girl, letting it sink in, wondering what she’s thinking about me.

Then she asks, “What about the next time?”

I think about Mom holding me under the water. Her telling Dad about it. He didn’t let her give me many baths after that, but I’m not sure he took it very seriously. Or maybe he didn’t really know what to do about it. Or maybe… maybe he half-hoped she’d kill me.

“The next time.” I repeat Eden’s words, the smallest smile curving my lips. “I’ve been half a dozen times,Nightmare Girl.”

She blinks.

“Not always long-term stays, because of course, Dad has appearances to maintain, and Mom couldn’t be fucked enough to spend that much time away from home, her cocoon of a room. Sometimes there were only check-ins, because sometimes I behaved very well. Dominic and Luna helped. Puppets to play with, you know. I didn’t have to resort to violence. They’d do whatever I wanted. We’d steal shit from the mall, once upon a time I got Luna to flirt with some drunk guys on the coast at the beach house, and when they started touching her, Dominic and I jumped all three of the guys. Not because I was jealous, but for something todo.”

“What happened with your mom, Eli?”

I lift my brows. “All of that, and you want to ask what the fuck happened with my mom? Were you listening?”

She doesn’t back down. “Tell me when she left.”

I slide my arms from the table and lean back in my seat, curling my hands into fists in my lap. “I was thirteen.” I hate the fact my voice sounds so rough, like it’s hard to talk about. It shouldn’t be hard. It’s been five fucking years. Still, I don’t look at Eden. I stare at the fireplace, the lingering of ash from the last time it was used still inside the grate. I start to imagine pushing Eden’s face into it.

I start to think terrible things about her.

I hate this part of my brain.

“Why did she go?” Her voice cuts through my violent visions.

I don’t want anyone to hurt you, but what if I slip up one day? What if, one day, I can’t fucking help myself with you?

I stand, pushing back so hard from the table as I do, my chair tips back, clattering against the polished floors of the library. The sound is loud in such a quiet room, and my pulse roars in my ears as I glare at Eden.

“If I knew that, don’t you think I’d have figured out how tomake her stay?”

Eden stands slowly, but her shoulders are pushed back, her chin lifted high, nose in the air. It’s how she walks at Trafalgar, like she owns the fucking place even though everyone’s parents in this school make more money in a year than her family will probably see in a goddamn lifetime.

“You couldn’t have stopped her.” Her voice is low, but even.

“We’re not talking about this.”

“There’s nothing you could have done.”

But there is. Dad trapped her, and I could have… well, I could have fucking killed him.Now, what’s the point? She’s gone, and she’s not coming back.

“There is,” I correct her, a horrible grin stretching my face. I canfeelthe disgust from her when she sees it, but she doesn’t visibly show it. “I could have stopped her.”

“How, Eli? Tie her up in your basement? She was an adult. You were thirteen.”

“She was trapped, and depressed, and they fought all the time.” I don’t need to tell her whotheyare. “And she understood me, but he never understood either of us.”

Eden laughs. It shocks me, and I take a step back from the table, putting more distance between us.“Sheunderstood you?” She shakes her head, closing her eyes a second as if my stupidity astounds her. “She didn’t understand you. I don’t think anyone haseverunderstood you, Eli. She was in over her head, and she couldn’t see your potential. Your greatness.”

“I don’t need you to feed my fucking ego. It’s big enough as is, thanks.”

“You’re terrible, too,” she keeps talking, but in a placating way, like she’s conceding a point to what I just said. Her fingertips graze the table, and they don’t tremble. “You areawful.Everything you just told me, what you watched Winslet do, and you didn’t tellanyone,when they could have found heralive.Even how you speak about people, your disregard for everyone around you, you are atragichuman being, Eli.”

This is what I want to hear. It’s what I need. I need her to see how disgusting I am, and I need her to admit she can’t fucking handle it.Run away, baby girl.Or, at the very least,try.