Page 55 of Ominous: Part 1
“Do you want to enjoy a real Trafalgar party?” Just like that, he changes the subject.
But I’m still stuck on it. “I’m sorry that… she’s missing.”
He rolls his eyes. “You and everyone else,” he mutters under his breath.
I feel out of my depth, but in my head, I hear Eli’s words from the first day Dominic spoke to me.“I saw your sister last night.”
My stomach flips.
“I’m sure it’s hard,” I keep going because I’m uncomfortable. “And I didn’t know, you know, Eli dated her.”
Dominic freezes. He narrows his eyes as he stares at me. “Why the fuck would you say something like that?”
My mouth goes dry. His entire demeanor has changed. I shake my head, unsure what to say.
After a tense moment, Dom clenches the baggie in his hand. “Huh? Why would you say that?” He steps toward me.
I glance at his hand, crushing the baggie in his palm, blue veins ridged under his skin. I should speak, or defend myself, but I don’t know why he’s losing his shit right now.
“They didn’t fucking date,” he says when I don’t respond, but he hasn’t given me room to breathe. He steps even closer. I can smell his cologne, the heady scent of marijuana, alcohol on his breath as he leans down in my face. “I just want to know why you think—”
“I assumed—”
“Hey, do me a favor, and back the fuck up off my girl.” Eli’s voice slices through my words and the tension between me and Dom, and surprising me, Dom straightens as if on command, and it’s like permission for me to step backward.
“I have to fucking pee,” I say the words through clenched teeth and turn my back to Dominic, glancing at Eli in the doorway. I walk quickly to the bathroom and close and lock the door behind me.
I don’t hear anything beyond the door, but at least I can breathe, away from Dom’s weird ass reaction to me assuming Eli dated his sister. But of course he didn’tdateher. I mean, does Eli even date? Is it, like, a thing he doesn’t do?
Reaching for the waistband of my pants, I blink, and it’s only here, between the white and black walls with the light above the polished mirror over the sink, I realize I am beyond buzzed.
Everything seems to spin a little as I take a breath, and in the relative quiet of the bathroom, I can hear the frantic beat of my pulse. The palpitations become worse when I drink, my heart looping like a butterfly, unsteady, rising and falling.
I close my eyes a second, still standing, my fingers paused at the top of my pants.
Fuck.
I shouldn’t have drank so much, but I had little to contribute to the conversations with people I barely knew, very aware of Eli at my side every second that ticked by. After he interrupted me with Dom, he didn’t leave me alone again. Drinking was something to do with my hands, my mouth, an excuse not to speak. I didn’t watch carefully how much Eli poured into my cup, and the vodka wasn’t sealed. Nor was the soda, and I don’t think anyone would spike the drinks making the rounds toeveryone, but I know about Jim Jones.
People with too much power, trip.
And these people feel unpredictable, somehow. Maybe it’s the photo of Winslet. Learning she’s Dominic’s sister. Figuring out something is off with the three of them; Dom, Winslet, and Eli.
I’m hot and sweaty, a wave overcoming me all at once.
I stagger a step back, shaking my head, trying to push the anxiety away. My cardiologist, the expensive one I couldn’t drag out seeing because the ER referred me to him after my first panic attack, noting my pulse was well above even panic levels, said the condition with the valves in my heart correlates to anxiety, but they’re not quite sure which is the cause, and which is the effect.
Deep breaths.
It really does help, despite how simple it seems. Breathing, apparently, is vital to life.
In. Out. In.Out.
I’m fine. You’re fine, Eden. Just. Fucking. Fine.
I get my shit together enough to use the bathroom, wash my hands, and lick my knuckle and wipe away the excess liner under my eyes.
Then I unlock the bathroom door.
