Don't Look Behind You (Don't Look Series Book 1) by Emily Kazmierski (summer reads .txt) 📗

Fiona said Noah was home babysitting, which means his parents aren’t home. It’s odd for the Gemini Killer to change his MO this late in the game, but who am I to try to reason out the actions of a deranged murderer?

Whatever. Please, just let them be alive.

Mr. Baugh is clearly upset by what has happened, and I wonder if he’s deliberately keeping the worst of it from me.

I open my mouth to tell him that he doesn’t have to protect me from the evil in the world. I’ve already seen it firsthand. But the tight pallor of his face stops me. If he’s upset, I don’t want to pile on. The horror of my complicity can wait for another day.

Chapter 35

An Hour Later

I’m pacing, still waiting for Aunt Karen to get home with news. She and Justin aren’t answering their phones. Neither is Noah. The wait is driving me wild with fright.

A clipped knock on the door downstairs brings my head up.

Finally! I slap my textbook closed and push off the worn carpet. It’s dark out, and enough shadows have gathered in my room that it’s hard to see anyway. I ought to have turned on a light ages ago, but I was too distracted to crawl the five feet to the desk to flip on the lamp. Anything to take my mind off what’s happening across town.

When I open the door, Noah is there, his eyes red-rimmed and his curly hair disheveled as if he’s clutched at it with sweaty hands.

“What—?”

The air whooshes out of my lungs when he lurches forward and wraps his arms around me. I’m stock still, caught off guard by his unembarrassed embrace, until I realize the shudders of his body against mine are sobs. Instinctually, my arms wrap around his back.

“It’s okay,” I murmur, patting his shoulder blade. “It’s going to be okay.” I don’t know why I say the words; they’re a blatant lie. Sometimes horrible things happen that change a person’s reality forever. Something wrenches apart the threads that weave your life together. You can try to glue everything back together, but it will never be the same. An ugly, jagged scar will always be there, staring you right in the face.

You can choose to make the best of it and move forward with the hope that life will get better. It has to. Or the brokenness can drag you under, if you let it. Twist you into a bitter, angry husk.

With a sharp intake of breath, I realize that I’m so very close to letting everything that’s happened to me ruin what remains of my life Before. I’ve let the bad memories poison all of it, my memories, my words, my heart.

Noah’s whispered confession jolts me out of my self-loathing.

“I was supposed to be watching them, but someone posted on the true crime forum about the Mayday Killer. A new guess as to who he might be. I got distracted by the theories and conjectures, and then Anza screamed. It was so loud. I—I thought I was going to lose them too.”

At his choked revelation, my entire body seizes. No, please, not Anza and Mattie. I haven’t spent a ton of time with them, but those two sweet kids have weaseled their way into my heart. Anza with her gap-toothed chatter and Mattie with his shy, empathetic nature. Please, let them be okay.

Noah drags me tighter against him, burying his face in my neck. Desperate for comfort.

“Noah, you’re scaring me. What happened? Are they all right?” I hold on to him tightly until his grip eases.

He takes in an unsteady breath before letting go of my waist, slowly, as if he’d rather stay here in my arms. With a swipe of his hand across his eyes, he finally looks me in the face. “Anza convinced Mattie to climb the kitchen counter to try to get the cookie tin off the fridge. He fell and broke his foot in three places. I can’t get his wailing out of my head.” He winces, his face beginning to crumple again.

I sag in relief. They’re both alive.

“It’s not your fault.” My fingers wind around his and squeeze. “Kids get hurt sometimes. His foot, it’ll heal, right?”

Noah gives a slow nod. “He looks ridiculous in the boot they’ve got him in. It’s so heavy he’s listing to one side.” A weary laugh escapes his lips.

I giggle too, overcome with relief, and that single, cheerful sound breaks the dam of tension between us. We’re both laughing at the mental image of Mattie in an oversized boot. Noah is doubled over with his hands on his knees and I’m pressing my hands into my warm cheeks.

When we’re both down from our giddy high, Noah meets my gaze. “Thanks,” he whispers, “for letting me, you know.”

My eyes fall to the wet spot on the front of my sweater dress. “I think it goes well with my tights, don’t you think?”

Noah’s mouth turns up appreciatively. When his eyes meet mine, there’s something there I haven’t seen in a few weeks. Interest, I think. “Definitely. Look, um, I know when I asked before, you weren’t—I mean, since you and Esau aren’t official. I was wondering if you’d consider—”

My lips part in surprise. I thought I’d been pretty careful around Esau at school, but I don’t know why I’m surprised that Noah has noticed. He’s observant and smart.

I don’t like hurting him.

My phone vibrating in my dress pocket cuts him off. I resist the urge to reach for it.

“Is that him?” Noah asks, his voice carefully modulated.

“I can get it later.”

“No, it’s fine. It might be important.”

“It’s not,” I say too quickly. But I take out my phone and check the message anyway.

Pushing his hair back off his forehead, Noah takes a step back. “I should get home. Check on Mattie.”

“Wait.” I hold the sleeve of his flannel shirt with a claw-like grip, but