Page 203 of Ominous: Part 1
I head down the stairs, and when I’m halfway to the foyer, I see a shadow appear outside of the frosted glass of the front double doors. The light on the porch is flicked on, the sun is setting, and I pause, waiting to see if the person is going to knock. I think Eli said something about ordering food before he followed Jasper outside so he could smoke.
I keep walking down the steps, and finally, after what seems like an unusually long time, there’s a loud, thudding knock against the door. I hit the landing, noting no one in the kitchen, everyone still out by the pool. I decide to get the door and if Eli hasn’t paid for the food, I’ll just go grab him.
I flip the lock on the door and pull it open, the heat hitting me in an uncomfortable wave.
My discomfort only increases as I tilt my head back and find Dominic standing on the porch, twirling his keys around one finger, his placid blue eyes still and cold, locked on mine.
He’s not wearing a shirt, black swim trunks on, and I can’t exactly ignore his abs, his broad shoulders, or the fact there’s dried blood under his nose, and his pupils are round, black orbs almost blotting out the blue of his irises.
The softest breeze rustles through the shrubs around the porch at his back, and I inhale the scent of his cologne. He cocks his head, and I see the start of his dark roots showing through the bleached blond of his hair.
My heart thuds fast in my chest, my medicine clearly not kicking in yet.
I swallow, hard, thinking of Winslet. The news. The fact Dom hasn’t been at school.
I’m still gripping the ledge of the door, and as Dom’s eyes slant to my bracelets, I follow his gaze and see the thin black bands have fallen down my forearm, and my scars are visible.
Nic.
All at once, the memory of Eli’s words come rushing back to me from the night in his car.
“I want to carve over it. I have a box cutter. At home.”
“Nice,” Dominic says, and when I look back at him, sweat damp on the little hairs at the back of my neck, his sharp smile indicates he read the letters, and he’s made an assumption about what they mean.
I ignore his bullshit and try to force politeness. “Are you okay—”
“Just let me in.” His voice is hoarse, and the taunting edge is gone from his words. He sounds more… desperate, or exhausted.
I step back, and he walks through, closing the door at his back and flipping the lock. He squeezes his eyes shut a second. I think I smell alcohol. I can’t stand still, shifting from foot to foot.
“Do you… want a drink? Do you want me to get Eli? Do you—”
“I’m good.” His voice is soft. He doesn’t open his eyes.
I feel too hot. A little dizzy. I’m still moving on my feet, weight in one foot, then the other. The silence is thick between us, and I’m wondering if I should grab Eli, when Dom starts to talk again, eyes still closed.
“My dad beat the shit out of my mom, when he found out Winslet was dead.”
There’s a ringing in my ears. I lick my lips, and I don’t even realize I have until I see Dom’s eyes snap open, tracking the movement.
I glance at his half-naked body, over the dips and curve of his muscles, the indentation of his triceps, his collarbones jutting up over his defined chest. I don’t see marks on him, and I’m relieved.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “Come on. Why don’t we get a drink—”
He runs his hand over his head, groaning. “I don’t want a fucking drink.” He drops his hand, leaning against the door, like it’s the only thing holding him up. He tips his head up, staring at the ceiling. “Did you know my sister wanted to fuck Eli once upon a time?”
I feel a little nauseous when he says those words, knowing shedidfuck him, but I keep quiet.
“You know, it’s funny…” He blows out a breath, eyes still on the ceiling, the whites of them infected with red.“After she disappeared, Eli got himself pulled out of school.”
I don’t know why he’s telling me all of this. If he’s drunk, or high, or both. Or just… delirious in his grief. But I’m not going to let this opportunity go to waste.
“How?” I ask, trying not to sound too eager, but I still can’t stop moving. It’s like my pulse is alive in my head, jolting through my entire body. I’m swaying a little as I cross my arms over my chest. “Where did he go?”
Dominic pockets his keys in his swim trunks. I hear them clanking. But his eyes stay focused on the ceiling even as he speaks quickly, his pace the same way I feel. “One day, a week after she goes missing, dogs and cops and helicopters still looking for her, Eli, unconcerned as always, he walks down the aisle of his Latin class, a pencil in hand.” He presses his lips together, pausing. I glance at the crust of blood under his nose.
My stomach is hard, full of tension, but I just wait for him to finish speaking.
