Don't Close Your Eyes (Don't Look Series Book 2), page 6
My eyebrow wings upward. This I have to hear. “Me?”
Esau’s eyes move over my shoulder. Probably making sure we don’t have an audience. The man is a grump in public and a cinnamon roll in private. But if I ever told anyone that, he’d kill me. Not literally of course. It would probably involve tickling my sides with merciless fingers until I begged for mercy.
“You look like a beautiful, intelligent, sweet girl, but really you’re an evil goddess sent to test me.” I’ve had worse compliments. My grin widens.
“And do I? Test you?” Batting my lashes makes Esau’s hands rise at his sides. Almost like he’s going to touch me. One of the guys in the cast comes creeping out of the wings toward us, wearing what might be a dashing suit if it wasn’t for the pins stuck around the pant hems making his movements tentative. “Ouch,” he mutters, going still. “Esau?”
“Garrett?”
“Viv wanted me to ask you if this is what you had in mind. For Jack’s London suit?”
“—It’s fine.”
“—Don’t you think it could be flashier?”
Esau and I catch each other’s gaze. His mouth twitches up at my toothy smile.
I mount my best argument that Garrett’s costumes need to be bolder and more dichotomized, since he’s playing a man who uses different personalities based on where he is and the company he is keeping. Esau listens indulgently, waiting until I’m finished to nod. Without taking his eyes off me, he answers Garret. “Have Viv see me at the end. We’ll discuss it.”
Garrett disappears behind the curtain.
Esau’s hand wrapped around my bicep keeps me from skipping across the stage to tear up and reposition more blocking tape. “I’m not finished with you, Goddess.”
“Unhand me you foul mortal, before I smite you. I am magical, you know.”
His fingers glide down my arm to circle my wrist. “I haven’t forgotten. There’s no other explanation for all the arguments you win against me. But you won’t win this one. I worked on that blocking for weeks. Put it back, Taryn. Please.”
I frown at the firm underpinning of his tone. “I know you worked on it, and it was really good, but I think this will be better. Let me just finish this and I’ll have them run through it. Once you see it, you’re going to love it.”
“I’m not budging on this.”
I want to rise to the challenge. Call Marisa and the others from behind the curtain to have them play out my idea in a visual tableau that’s sure to bring Esau around to my way of thinking. But involving the cast wouldn’t be fair, to them or to Esau. So I bite my tongue.
“I’m putting the blocking tape back where it was.” Esau stoops and tears a long line of blue from the floor. Moving to the next one, he does the same.
I can’t bare just watching when I know my idea is good.
“Wait. Please. Let the cast walk through it. I just know it’ll make the scene flow as they move across the stage. Maybe if they’re in their costumes it’d be easier to see. Maybe we should…” I trail off.
There’s that expression behind Esau’s eyes again. A closed-off, blank look that terrifies me. At first, he only did it when I pushed him too far. And, okay, fair. But recently he’s started doing it when he talks about being gone for college in the fall. Like he’s picturing his future. Without me. It scares me, the way that far-off look makes me feel. Like Esau’s going to leave. Which is dumb. I know he’s leaving in the fall because going to film school is his dream. Directing is his dream.
But my dream is to be together, and every time he gets that closed look in his eyes, I can feel our future as a couple slipping farther away. Which is why I push him. Engage with him now. Argue with him now, about things that don’t matter. Because if he’s arguing with me, I know he’s all, completely, one hundred percent here. With me.
“I let you talk me through your vision for the scene. Twice. I listened to all of your reasons. I prefer it the other way.”
“I think that’s a mistake.” I hate the edge in my voice, but I don’t stop.
“Not your call to make.” Esau rips up another line of blue. “Where’d you put the tape?”
Grimacing, I march across the stage and hold up an empty roll of tape.
Straightening, Esau shoots me a hot look. Not a hot, let’s-make-out look. More of a keep-pushing-and-we’ll-really-be-fighting look. Does it stop me? Someone else be the judge.
I can feel eyes on my back, but I don’t look over my shoulder to see how many of the cast are watching our little squabble.
Fiona strides toward where I’m standing. Mouth set in a firm line. She’s totally team Esau, so I know what she’ll say before she even opens her mouth. “I used up the tape,” I say in a sing-song voice, hoping to lighten the mood. “There isn’t any more. Guess we’ll have to put my tape back and make do.”
Black eyebrow slashing up, Esau’s attention shifts up to Dariel in the sound booth. “Toss me a roll of tape, yeah?”
Dariel tosses a black roll that my boyfriend catches in one hand. Traitor.
Fiona pauses at the edge of the stage, eyes shifting between Esau and me. I wave her off, mouthing we’re fine. Eyes narrowed, she studies me for a second, looks to Esau, and sighs. She retreats up the stairs to the booth.
“I hate it when Mom and Dad fight. Ouch.” Dariel yelps when Fiona playfully smacks him upside the head.
I don’t move as Esau continues replacing my tape marks with new old ones.
“Next year,” he speaks lowly while he works, “I’ll be gone, and you can direct whatever play you want. However you want. But now, it’s my time. Don’t fight me on this.” Please. He doesn’t say it, but I can see the plea in his eyes when he looks up at me from a crouch.
“Hey, you guys want anything from the gas station? Guys? Taryn!”
I whip around, pulling my pout away from Esau long enough to meet my twin’s eyes. “What?”
Audrey points between herself and Noah. “We’re going across the street. Can I bring you anything?”
“I’m fine. Go ahead.” I turn to Esau.
“Go with them. Take a break.” He doesn’t even look up.
I retreat a step, cheeks flushing. My boyfriend wants me to leave. He wants to work alone. I’ve finally pushed him over the edge where he realizes that he doesn’t need me, so he’s pulling away. I have no way of knowing if it’s a conscious choice he’s making, or some deeply seated self-preservation instinct, but it feels like a stab to the heart. I stare at him, a jumble of emotions I can’t hope to parse. How do I get him to stay present with me? There has to be a way. “So you can do everything without me? I don’t think so, you big, uncompromising—”
Esau cuts me off with a short kiss. There’s no anger behind it. Only a sweet press of his warm mouth against mine. And then he’s easing back, deep brown eyes tuned to mine.
I splutter, casting around to regain my ire. “You can’t just stop every argument like that. It’s cheating.”
The guy shrugs, expression unreadable. Shifting closer, he whispers. “Don’t have many tricks that work on a goddess, but kissing does.”
“But it’s cheating.”
“Said that already. But seriously. Take the break. We’ll be here when you get back.”
Still unsure of what to do, I ask, “How about I help you put the blocking marks back, and then we both go?”
His lips twitch, pleased. My insides warm at that smile.
The thing about Esau and me is, once we stop bickering about our differing ideas for the play, we come up with some pretty kick-ass stuff.
I turn to my sister and Noah, whose eyes are on her face. His cheeks are tinged pink, but Audrey doesn’t seem to notice. It’s super cute. Maybe I should decline so they can go alone. No, now that I’ve thought about it, one of those frappés Karen calls sugar milk sounds pretty good. “Give us ten minutes, then we’ll all go. Okay?”
Audrey flashes a thumbs up.
The roll of tape squeaks pitifully as Esau and I tear into it, working as a team to adhere black Xs all over the stage.
White clouds hang in the icy blue sky like pendant lights suspended from an invisible ceiling. Forget a chilled coffee. I’m getting a mocha latte with marshmallows. Icy fingers from a winter wind yank at my hair, slapping my face with the wispy ends of my ponytail. Esau must see my shiver, because he puts an arm around my shoulders and tucks me into his side. He’s so warm, I snuggle closer.
My inclination is to charge across the parking lot after Audrey and Noah, but Esau’s pace is slow, steady. I wouldn’t leave my spot under his arm for almost anything. Even a caramel frappe. The caffeine shot is exactly what I need to help Esau finish blocking the scenes in Act 1. After the tape incident, we’re both feeling a little more compromising, if our conversation about the following scene was any indication. Esau asked for my thoughts, listened, and actually incorporated some of it into his plans. Be still my beating heart.
I giggle, which brings Esau’s attention to my face. “What?”
“Just picturing you giving in when I finally find your ticklish spot.” My fingers tighten on his waist in warning.
“Not gonna happen.”
“Yeah, I know. You’re not ticklish.”
Footfalls pound as someone, no, two someones jog up to where we are at the curb, waiting for the signal light to turn green. Fiona catches my eye. “I’m glad you two finally worked out your blocking issues. For a second there I thought it would come to fisticuffs.”
“Fisticuffs?”
“I’ve been surrounded by people using fun, old words all afternoon. It seemed like it worked.” She shrugs, unconcerned.
“It does.” Esau meets her gaze over my head.
“My thanks, Lord Director. Oh! I hope they have that new flavor of Pringles I’ve been wanting to try.” She starts jogging in place, waiting on the light to change.
“Nobody wants hot honey Pringles.” Dariel stands beside her, mouth cocked, hands deep in his pockets.
Another shiver runs through my body. It is freezing out.
“I thought it might come to tickling.” Esau whispers in my ear, dipping a finger into my armpit through my sweater.
I squeal, trying to pull away, but his firm grip on my opposite wrist stops me. “No tickle fights in public,” I hiss.
Esau’s grin grows. “Why? Can’t have people seeing your weakness?”
“You were right. I think your blocking will be dynamic and interesting to watch.”
“What—?”
His grip on my wrist loosens, and I escape. Esau’s laugh follows as I dance over to where Marisa is regaling Audrey with her character’s motivation in the opening scene of the play. Esau tapped her to play Gwendolyn, which she is absolutely going to nail. She’s a lot more confident since her turn in last semester’s play. Noah is on Audrey’s other side, chatting with Dariel about a history assignment.
Audrey sneaks a peek at Noah, biting the inside of her cheek. They could be so cute together. I wish one of them would man up and make a move already. I look over my shoulder at Esau, who shakes his head. He’s made me swear on my favorite dress that I won’t interfere.
Killjoy.
The crosswalk light turns from Don’t Walk, to Walk and I trip into the street. My momentum carries me a step before my toe catches a crack in the pavement. I go sprawling. Tiny stones cut into my knees when I push up onto them. My palms scrape under my weight. I swivel around to see Audrey rushing closer, mouth widening.
“Taryn!”
A car’s engine roars as the vehicle lunges. It’s burgundy or maroon.
Wait. Is that the same one… The driver—oh, no—a balaclava. My mouth drops open in shock as the car barrels toward where I’m bleeding onto the pavement.
I never could understand why animals wouldn’t just get out of the way when they met cars on the road, but now.
Move, legs. MOVE!
My eyes close as a memory eviscerates my thoughts. A figure looming toward me. The gleam of a metal blade. Sharp, coursing pain as blood flows down the side of my face.
Forcing my eyes open, I rip my feet off the ground. Tripping in panic, my foot flies out from under me. Freaking gravity slams me down onto the black, tarry asphalt.
Someone is screaming.
Tires screech. Burning rubber makes my eyes water. I scramble to stand up, but my ankle twists painfully. My heart climbs my throat to abandon ship as I go back down.
Someone hooks their hands under my arms, lifting. Shoving. A screech tears from my throat as I go flying. Land hard on my side. My palms throb, pierced and torn. Blood from where I bit the inside of my cheek taints my mouth.
Metal meets flesh in a sickening smack.
A gun fires.
Glass shatters.
More yelling, laced with agony.
The car’s engine groans as it speeds past, its wind buffeting my aching body.
I blink once. Twice. A hundred times. My vision clears.
Noah is holding Audrey back from the street, but she’s fighting with everything she’s got. Finally, after a long second, she goes limp. Buries her face in the front of his jacket. She’s okay. My sister is okay.
Marisa and Viv are staring in horror from the opposite curb. Fiona pushes past, crouching beside me. “Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere? You’re bleeding.”
Her rapid-fire questions snap me out of my panic. “I’m okay. I’m okay.”
“They’re getting away.” Noah yells, pointing down the street.
A few feet away, Justin yells into his phone about a car trying to run over one of the Thomas twins. Backup requested. Corner of Main and 7th street.
“Here. Let’s get you up.” Fiona pulls me up by my armpits and doesn’t let go when I wince at the pain in my ankle.
Everything goes quiet.
Fiona’s grip shakes out a memory. More of an impression, really. Someone pushed me away from the car. Lightning hits my brain and I spin, heedless of the knives slicing along my calf. My focus hones in on my sister, who clutches at Noah.
“Is he okay?” Audrey’s mumble is barely audible through his arms, but she might as well have a megaphone over my ear, the way that simple question reverberates through every fiber of my body.
Noah’s chin rests on top of her head as he holds her tightly. “I don’t know.”
Esau. Where is—? No.
My beautiful grump of a boyfriend is lying in the street, not moving. His eyes are pinched shut. One arm is pinned underneath him. Too high. It has to be broken.
With a cry, I fly toward him, flinging myself down beside him. My hand slides along his temple into vines of ebony hair. “Esau, baby, are you… Can you talk? Look at me?”
A stuttering sigh, and Esau’s beautiful brown eyes open, focus on my face. He tries to move, but winces. A groan escapes his parted mouth.
Justin hunches, tapping Esau’s shoulder. “Stay put until the ambulance arrives, all right?” Esau blinks up at him. Nods.
Justin looks him over carefully without making contact with any of Esau’s injuries. One arm is clutched against his chest, and the whole left side of one leg is torn and bloody.
My eyes want to clamp shut, but I muscle them open. Shards of glass litter the asphalt. Something hot drips down my throat, and I swipe it off. The back of my hand comes away red. Silent, angry tears track down my cheeks when I look at my boyfriend. The damage done to his body in a split second. A split second after he risked everything by pushing me. Out of the way. Of a car.
Flopping down beside him, I take his free hand in mine. My teeth clench tight. Someone is going to pay for this.
Done talking to Audrey, Justin stands between us, watching as a deputy’s car pulls up to the scene. His gaze swings to me. “Karen is on her way. Everyone is going to be okay.” He sighs, dragging a hand over his jaw. “It could have been a lot worse.”
He’s wrong. I don’t know if I’m going to be okay. Not after this.
Because deep down in the darkest parts of me, I know. That driver wasn’t simply trying to scare us. They were attempting to end our lives like unlucky animals caught in the middle of the street. That maniac was gunning for us. And my beautiful, insightful, cranky boyfriend almost lost his life saving mine.
Everyone I care about might be okay if okay means not dead, but no one I care about is safe.
Chapter 9
Day 270, Sunday
Audrey
One of the line cooks slides the plates onto the sill between the kitchen and dining area. “Eggs over easy, bacon, sourdough.”
I pick them up with nervous hands. It’s my first shift at the diner and I am determined not to drop anything. And after the hit and run two days ago, I’m grateful for the distraction working will provide. My eyes skirt to where Justin is sitting at a table near the back, eating a burger. My protection for today.
“You’re doing great,” Viv says as she breezes past, taking a tray full of dirty plates and cups to the sink. She got me this job. One of the waitresses left without notice, leaving the diner staff scrambling. Viv called me, and I hot-footed it over as soon as I could throw on the requisite dark jeans and a black tee. Before the manager could even glance at the résumés on his desk, I was in his doorway, looking hopeful. He caved.
When I promised not to be any trouble, he had to remind me that my sister almost got run over by a serial killer copycat less than forty-eight hours ago. He did not find it helpful when I told him we weren’t sure who was behind the wheel.
The manager put Viv in charge of my training, and she walked me through it with way too many Star Wars references. Erin must have made her watch the original trilogy again.
I tighten my grip on the plates as I move through the diner. This happened so fast, it didn’t give Karen time to overthink it. Working a few hours a week provides a way to get out of the house. Don’t get me wrong, Karen and Justin don’t have my sister and me on house arrest—despite the many threats to the contrary.
In the day and a half since the attack, they haven’t let us go anywhere. It’s easier to protect us at home, where there are fewer variables. I get that, but we’re already not allowed to step a toe out of the house without one of them chaperoning. I needed this today.
