23
ELEANOR'S POV
The air inside the bag was thick, damp, and cloying, every breath I took laced with the sharp tang of sweat and fear. My lungs screamed for oxygen, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst from my chest. But none of that compared to the chaos swirling in my head.
*Dominic.*
The name was a curse now, echoing in the suffocating darkness that surrounded me. He was supposed to be dead. *He was dead.*
So why was he here? And why the hell was I tied up in the back of his car?
The pain in my skull roared, each throb a reminder of the blow that had knocked me out. My wrists ached from the tight cords biting into my skin, but my focus was on the unbearable tightness of the black bag over my head. Each shallow breath felt like dragging air through a pinhole. My chest tightened, panic clawing its way up my throat as I struggled to inhale properly.
I couldn't die like this.
*Not like this.*
A surge of adrenaline took over, drowning out the pain and panic. My legs shot out, twisting and thrashing, desperate to find anything solid to kick against. My bare feet met the cold, smooth surface of the car’s window. A jolt of determination surged through me, and I reared back and slammed into it with everything I had.
“Let!” Bang. “Me!” Bang. “Out!”
The third kick was harder, fueled by pure rage and survival instinct. I heard the glass crack, a faint but satisfying sound that made my heart leap. It wasn’t enough to shatter, but it was enough to piss him off.
The car screeched to an abrupt halt, tires shrieking against the asphalt. My body jolted forward, the seatbelt digging into my ribs as I was yanked back by the force. I gasped, the movement squeezing more air out of me than I could take in.
Then his voice came, cold and sharp, slicing through the dark like a blade. “Do not make me throw you out the goddamn window.”
“Throw me out, you bastard!” I screamed back, my voice raw with fury. “You *kidnapped me*! What the hell gives you the right?!”
“For good reasons!” he snapped, his tone clipped, like that should be enough to shut me up.
I barked out a bitter laugh, thrashing harder against the seat. “*Good reasons*? What good reason justifies kidnapping someone, Dominic? You’re not a savior, you’re not Jesus Christ! You’re the devil! And guess what? The devil doesn’t get second chances!”
For a moment, silence. Then his voice dropped, lower, softer, and it sent a shiver crawling down my spine. “I never died, Elean—”
“Don’t call me that!” I spat, cutting him off. Rage flared like a match being struck, hot and uncontrollable. That name, spoken in his voice, felt like chains tightening around me. “You don’t get to call me that! You don’t get to walk back into my life after all these years and act like—like *this* is normal! You don’t get to—”
“Enough!” Dominic barked, his voice thunderous now, slamming over my words. I felt the air shift as he turned toward me, the weight of his presence pressing in on me even through the bag. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know enough!” I hissed, my voice shaking, my chest heaving with every labored breath. “I know you disappeared. I know you left me behind! And I know you *died*! So tell me, Dominic—what the hell are you, huh? A ghost? A liar? Or just a goddamn psychopath?”
He didn’t answer immediately, but I could feel his eyes on me, the silence heavy and suffocating. Then, finally, his voice came, low and venomous.
“You think this is about you? You think I came back for you? You don’t even know the half of it, Eleanor. But you will.”
Something about the way he said it—so calm, so certain—made my blood turn to ice. Whatever he was planning, whatever had brought him back from wherever the hell he’d been, I knew one thing for certain:
I wasn’t going to like the answer.
The bag over my head was suffocating, trapping the stale air in a humid cocoon. Each breath felt heavier, my lungs straining to pull in enough oxygen. The fabric scratched against my cheeks, and the darkness pressed in from every angle, amplifying the dull roar of the engine and the aching throb in my wrists where the bindings bit into my skin.
The vehicle rocked with every bump, the suspension groaning like it was ready to give out. From the metallic clanking and the way the seat rattled beneath me, I guessed it was some kind of old truck. Definitely not Dominic’s style. The Dominic I’d known—loved—would’ve never been caught dead in something like this. The Dominic I knew had a car obsession so intense he’d blow every penny on fuel just to show up to illegal races looking like a king.
But this Dominic—this Dominic who had kidnapped me—felt different. Sloppy. Rushed. Desperate.
A laugh bubbled in my throat, sharp and uninvited, and I let it out. I didn’t care if he heard it. In fact, I hoped he did.
“Really, Dominic?” I called out, my voice cutting through the silence like a knife. “This is your grand comeback? Kidnapping me in a car that sounds like it’s older than we are? What happened to you?”
No response.
The truck jolted as it hit another bump, and my head slammed against the door. I hissed under my breath but refused to let it shake me. If he wasn’t going to answer, I’d just keep talking. Anything to crack him. Anything to remind him who I was and that he wasn’t the one in control—not completely.
“What happened to your flashy cars, huh?” I sneered. “Couldn’t afford to keep them? Or did you pawn them all off after you faked your death? God, what a downgrade. You’re a joke now, Dominic.”
Still nothing.
The only sound was the crackle of the old radio, static filling the cab like a broken record. I could hear him fidget with it, his movements quick and irritated. Good. I was getting under his skin.
And then, through the static, a familiar melody started to play. Faint at first, distorted by the crackling interference, but clear enough that it sent a chill down my spine.
“Not a lot, just forever.”
I froze.
No. It couldn’t be.
But it was. Adrianne Lenker’s voice crept through the speaker like a ghost, soft and haunting, dragging me back to memories I’d spent years trying to bury. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms as the song filled the cab.
He didn’t say anything, but I heard him hum along. Low, almost imperceptible, but it was there. That off-key hum that used to make me laugh, back when hearing this song made me feel safe instead of sick.
“Stop it,” I snapped, my voice sharper than I intended.
The humming continued.
“Stop it!” I thrashed against the restraints, my wrists burning as the cords dug deeper. My voice was shaking now, the panic creeping in despite my best efforts to shove it down. “Turn it off, Dominic! You hear me? TURN IT OFF!”
The song played on, and his humming didn’t stop.
“You’re pathetic,” I spat, desperation leaking into my words. “You can’t even afford to kidnap me properly. You’re a failure now. You hear me? A goddamn failure!”
The humming stopped.
The truck lurched as he hit the brakes hard again, throwing me forward against the seatbelt. For a moment, everything was silent except the sound of my own ragged breathing.
Then his voice came, low and calm, but ice-cold.
“Say that again.”
I froze.
“Go on, Eleanor,” he said, his tone dangerously soft. “Say it again. I dare you.”
I bit my lip, my breath hitching. My heart pounded in my chest, the adrenaline from my anger fading as reality clawed its way back in.
I knew not to run my mouth at Dominic.
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
