Don't Close Your Eyes (Don't Look Series Book 2), page 1
Table of Contents
Title Page
Also by Emily Kazmierski
Emily Kazmierski
Copyright © 2022 Emily Kazmierski
For you.
Untitled
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
<< Breaking << Breaking << Breaking <<
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Also By Emily Kazmierski
About the Author
Also by Emily Kazmierski
Don’t Look Series
Don’t Look Behind You
Don’t Look Too Close (a prequel novella)
Embassy Academy Trilogy
Deadly First Day
Lethal Queen Bee
Killer Final Exams
Ivory Tower Spies Series
For Your Ears Only
The Walk-in Agent (a Julep Short Story)
The Eyes of Spies
Spy Your Heart Out
Spy Got Your Tongue
Over My Dead Body
Other Novels
Malignant
All-American Liars
Emily Kazmierski
Copyright © 2022 Emily Kazmierski
California, United States
Cover Design: Andrea Fodor, Creya-Tive Book Cover Design
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Printed in the United States of America
First Printing, 2022
www.EmilyKazmierski.com
For you.
You rock.
Chapter 1
Day 239, Friday
Audrey
FBI Agent Justin Chambers is trying to murder me. That’s the only explanation.
Never mind that I’ve already survived a serial killer’s deranged obsession. Being torn apart by the death of my parents. Kidnapping at the hands of a favorite teacher. Almost losing my twin, Taryn, forever. You know, the usual.
But this dinner? It is awkward with a capital A.
Agent Karen Biel and her boyfriend and partner Justin invited all of us out to the diner for Friday night dinner instead of ordering takeout to the old house we call home. We’ve all gone out once or twice since Karen instituted Friday night dinners all together, saying she wants to be more involved in our lives now that we’re not hiding out. Get to know Taryn’s and my boyfriends, not that Noah’s my boyfriend. But the buzzing under my skin tells me this evening is different. I’m dreading it, because I’m pretty sure they’re about to tell us that the FBI is sending them somewhere else for their next case. That they’re leaving Taryn and me behind.
The diner is packed. A popular boy band song filters out of speakers along the ceiling. Waitresses skim between the tables, dropping off sizzling burgers and frosty shakes. My mouth waters when a juicy cheeseburger goes by right under my nose. My stomach growls. Our waitress, my good friend, Viv, approaches with a tray full of delicious eats. Justin holds up a hand, asking her to hold our food for a minute because he has something to say. He stands.
My eyes skim across the table to where Taryn, my mirror image, is tucked against Esau’s side. He’s a tall, broad-shouldered emo cowboy with a love for directing. And my sister, of course. They’re so cute together it makes my teeth ache sometimes.
When she meets my eyes, wondering if I know what Justin’s on about, I shrug. No clue, I mouth.
Viv snaps up one of Esau’s fries and eats it under his indignant glare.
Taryn smirks and I huff a laugh into the back of my hand.
Standing and running a hand down his button-up, Justin starts telling the story of the first case he and Karen worked together. My eyebrows rise when he says it was hate at first sight. “But even back then,” Justin says, gazing down at where my guardian is sitting in the booth, “I knew she was different.”
A hoot goes up behind me, and I shift enough to see a pack of teenagers, all of whom are friends from school, loudly playing the cup game in the booth next to ours. Fiona, her black hair in loose coils around her shoulders, catches my eye with a wink. Dariel, Marissa, Erin, and a couple other guys make up the group.
I squirm in my seat. What I wouldn’t give to climb over the divider between booths and sink down between Fiona and Marisa. I do not want to hear whatever Justin has to say. He’s been shifty the past week or so, and the other day I caught him talking in hushed whispers on the phone. When he spotted me, he hung up. Too quickly. “You didn’t hear that, did you?” he’d asked, a harried look in his eyes.
When I asked Taryn if she’d noticed, she agreed Justin was acting weird. He was up to something, something my gut was screaming would change our finally mostly normal life in Hacienda.
Now, I squint up at our erstwhile man of the house, wondering why he won’t just get to the point. If he and Karen have been assigned to a new case, they should spit it out already and put us out of our misery. Especially if he’s about to announce that they’re leaving. We’re going to have to start over. Again. I don’t know if I’ll survive it.
My eyes pinched closed, but I pull them open. Force my gaze back to Justin.
He’s grinning like a fool. An odd expression for someone about to lower the ax. My breath hitches. Maybe we’re the ones being sent away. My attention shifts to my sister across the table. How will Taryn handle being separated from Esau earlier than she planned?
Noah shifts and his thigh brushes against mine. My entire body lights up with nerves. That date we talked about going on after the trial was over? It still hasn’t happened. He never asked me about it again. He’s probably changed his mind. In the past couple of months, he’s treated me like just a friend. No more. I have no idea what happened, but it stings. I scoot away so not even an inch of our skin is touching.
Karen is sitting next to Esau at the edge of the booth the diner’s staff reserved for us, a hint of a smile on her face as she watches Justin. I have never seen this woman grin, but she’s as close to it as she gets. Oh, this is bad. I thought she liked living with us.
I stifle a groan as Justin goes on about how much he has enjoyed getting to know us these past few months. How great it’s been working with Karen without having to hide their relationship. Despite his severe military haircut and the suits he wears, he’s almost effusive. There’s no trace left of the creepy stalker he seemed to be last fall. The change in the man is like night and day. Turns out, he took so many photos of my sister and me while he was tailing us because he was bored. Justin loves people. It’s why he joined the FBI, to help as many people as he could. He’s clearly leading up to a revelation of some kind.
“I could go on all night, but I won’t. Cheers.” Justin clinks his beer bottle against Karen’s and takes a long drink.
Huffing a laugh, Noah taps his milkshake glass against mine. His eyes shine behind his thick black glasses. “I still say salted caramel is the superior flavor.”
“In your dreams.” I muster half a laugh, but even Noah can tell it’s hollow. His gaze catches on mine, weighing something behind his eyes. One corner of his mouth falls, and he leans to whisper in my ear. I start to reciprocate, but I’m interrupted when Justin kneels down in front of Karen and pulls a black velvet ring box out of his pants pocket. “And that’s why I’ve decided now is the perfect time. Karen, love of my life and partner in crime fighting, will you marry me?”
Karen’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly. “Of course.” They smile at each other as Justin slides the ring onto her finger.
I’m in shock.
Cheers and clapping erupt from the booths around us as Justin pulls his new fiancée into a gentle embrace. She pats him on the back before pulling away, fiddling with the ring he slid onto her finger.
“It’s a little loose,” she says, peering down at the white gold circlet.
“We can have it sized. Tomorrow. No problem.” Justin’s fingers run over Karen’s as if he’s never felt anything softer and more fine than her skin. Ick.
My entire body slumps against the red vinyl seat. They aren’t leaving. They’re getting married. That’s a good thing.
Since Justin is done soliloquizing, Viv approaches the table and dishes out our orders. Another waitress swings by to congratulate the happy couple.
“So, how’s waitressing?” I ask Viv,
“It’s good. I’m going to be able to buy so much fabric. And buttons! Buttons aren’t cheap, you know?”
Through the kitchen window, one of the cooks hollers that there’s an order up.
“That’s my cue.” Viv reaches across the table and feigns stealing another of Esau’s fries. He covers his plate with his work-worn hands, making her laugh as she goes.
“Can I have a fry?” Taryn bats her lashes at Esau, who grumbles that she should have ordered fries if she wanted them even as he nudges his plate toward her. Grinning like the cat that ate the canary, she takes two. While munching, my sister leans forward on her elbows to get a better look at Karen’s shiny new ring. Esau tries to get out of the way by folding in on himself, but ends up only crossing his arms.
My eyes flick to Noah, who meets the shade of a smile on my face with one of his own. Under the table, his pinky brushes mine, but retreats. An accident. My heart deflates a little. That date? I wanted it. It would be something in my life that I didn’t share with Taryn. It would be just mine. And Noah’s.
“That is gorgeous. How’d you pick it out, J?” Taryn gushes about the ring, talking about cut and carrots and other stuff I don’t understand. Leave it to Taryn to know all about fine jewelry. My twin sparkles.
“Congratulations,” I say, still sounding a little off, but Karen thanks me.
I sink in my seat, feeling like I’m the one in need of a polish. I wish someone would look at me the way Esau looks at my sister. Like Justin looks at Karen.
In some ways, I’ve moved far beyond the wallflower I was when a serial killer took a shine to me and decided to make me his. But in other ways? It feels like my growth has stunted, leaving me once again losing the perpetual fight I’m in with Taryn to get my share of the sunlight.
In my pocket, my phone vibrates, making my stomach drop. Probably that mouth-breather calling again just to listen to me say hello before hanging up. It happened a couple of times right after the trial, but it’s been ramping up the past couple of weeks.
Pulling my phone out, I glance at the screen under the table. Not an unknown. It’s an actual number. This perks me up. I’m expecting a call from a reporter who wants to hear my side of the story. Months after the Gemini Killer’s death, and now that Mr. Baugh’s trial is over, I’m finally ready to speak out. Tell everyone what really happened.
Maybe getting it all out in the open will absolve me of the guilt I feel for everyone who died, once and for all. Maybe after I spill my guts to this reporter, the permanent knot in my stomach will loosen.
“I have to take this,” I say to no one in particular as I slide out of the booth.
Taryn starts to climb past Esau and Karen. I wave her off.
Noah slides out too. “Want me to come?”
One of Esau’s prominent brows slashes upward. Okay? he mouths.
“I’ve got this. Be right back.”
“If you’re sure.” Taryn moves seamlessly back into conversation with Justin about ring shopping. Karen sips her drink, hiding a satisfied smile.
Cold air is like a slap to the face when I step outside. My breath sails away in white puffs. It’s absolutely frigid out. Pulling my scarf tighter around my neck, I move down the sidewalk toward the side of the building. I don’t want anyone hearing my conversation with the reporter. It would be too embarrassing. Everyone can read my story in the article when it comes out. When I’m safe at home where no one can stare in horror or pity. Maybe Noah will come over and binge our favorite anime show with me as a distraction. It’s a solid plan.
The light in the alley behind the restaurant is wan, casting a thin flare of light over the concrete. The dumpster looms in the dark. The concrete is sticky with grime, making me turn away. Wow, it smells terrible. I stand directly under the light, facing the street. My phone vibrates, and I answer. “Hello?”
Heavy breathing fills my ear. Ugh, not this again.
“Hello?”
More gusty breathing.
My nose wrinkles as I pull the phone away from my ear. So, not the reporter, then. Just another murder fanboy who gets off from hearing my voice. Yay me. The poster girl for sickoes everywhere. Le sigh. One thing my therapist made very clear is that I do not have to listen to people like this. Thrill seekers who treat me more like an exhibit in a twisted museum than a person. It’s not my fault some people get a kick out of skirting so close to death. “Listen, you sicko. Stop calling me! Go crawl back into whatever sewer you came out of.” I hang up, wishing it were more cathartic than simply tapping my phone’s screen.
Sizzle.
Crunch.
The light goes out.
Something thuds behind the dumpster, making me whirl to look. Footsteps pound over the pavement. A tall shadow lunges toward me.
My heart scrambles up my throat. What the hell?
A hooded body slams me into the wall, knocking the air from my lungs. Shiny metal glints in their hand.
No. Not again. Please.
My body goes rigid as I wait for the knife to
sink
into
my
flesh.
Chapter 2
This is how I die. Shanked in an alley by a brute in an ironic Baywatch hoodie.
My hands flail, trying to keep the knife from sinking into my flesh through my coat. Better to lose a finger than my life. Panic makes my thoughts fuzzy as they whiz by. I’m braced for the sharp cut of pain.
It doesn’t come. What the hell?
The stranger’s hands grope all over in a frenzied search for something. My skin goes clammy under the unwanted touch, and I fight harder to get away. With a fierce yell, they shove me harder against the brick wall. A sharp point cuts into my shoulder blade, making me yelp.
My arms swish and swat, but I can’t get them off me.
“Where is it? Give it to me!” The voice is harsh and garbled. It sounds robotic, like they’re wearing something to modulate it.
“Get off!” I scream. Pull my arm back until it hits brick. Punch my attacker in the gut with everything I’ve got. One of their hands covers their stomach. The other strikes my cheek. Splayed fingers burn my skin. Agony sears along my cheekbone as my eyes water
That same hand snakes into the front pocket of my jacket and yanks out my phone.
“Hey! Give that back.”
The diner’s front door slams, making both of us freeze. Booted feet stomp toward where I’m gasping in the dark. Each step matches the loud thud of my heart in my chest.
“Sheriff!” I screech as the man rounds the corner. Sheriff Lamb’s silhouette is distinct in the red light from the diner’s neon sign.
“What the hell?” He looks from me to the hood shoving me against the wall.
My attacker’s hands jerk away. They run. Loud slaps of shoes over concrete.
“They stole my phone!” My voice is high and thready.
“You okay?” At my nod, Sheriff Lamb bolts after my attacker, but already the thief’s footsteps are fading. They’ve got a good head start, so I don’t know if Lamb will be able to catch up. The sheriff roars orders into his radio as he pounds to the far end of the alley.
I sink back against the wall, taking stock to make sure I’m in one piece. My stomach’s contents fester, threatening to come up. Leaning forward, I brace my weight by clutching my knees. Blood rushes to my head, making my vision swim in the dark. I’m okay. There was no knife. They weren’t trying to kill me. It was a crime of convenience. Some goon was hiding out back here, saw me on the phone, and took advantage.
I sink down onto the dirty cement, not caring that my pants will be a lost cause after this. I have to catch my breath. Wrangle my innards into submission. Convince my panicking mind that I’m not about to die.
I sound like I’m wheezing after running a marathon. Justin and Karen come barreling around the corner from the diner. Taryn, Esau, Noah pile after. People gather at the alley’s mouth as my group runs over to me.
“Are you okay?” Karen asks, kneeling. Her hand is solid on my shoulder.
A flash whites out my vision. Blinking, I look up.
Justin leans an elbow against the wall, shielding me from the street and whoever decided it was a good idea to start taking photos.
