Read Online Hollowed by Kelley York - Free Book Online Page B

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    I go for a jacket and her favorite striped scarf instead. It doesn ' t smell like her anymore, which I can fix easily because she still has a bottle of cherry blossom body spray on her desk. I snatch that, too. A couple pictures off the wall. A birthday card I drew for her in sixth grade.
    I stand in front of the full-length mirror beside her desk, wearing Ruby ' s hat, Ruby ' s scarf, Ruby ' s jacket. Staring at myself. Trying to see some sign of my sister. It doesn ' t work. I haven ' t seen my natural hair color in years, preferring red to the blonde that always looked so lackluster compared to Ruby ' s. She was taller and slender thanks to all her swimming and track.
    Why am I gathering her things like they ' re my keepsakes? Why am I even contemplating ways to make myself look more like her? I don ' t know. Because I ' ve always admired Ruby ' s stuff. Admired her . Because I miss her and I miss my parents.
    And I ' d rather be anyone but me right now. 
    There ' s a low, rumbling growl from the bed. Algonquin ' s ears are slatted back, bottle-brush tail straight in the air. He hops to the floor and slinks out of the room . I follow with the duffel bag over one shoulder , i gnoring the little skip of my heartbeat warning me that someone might be here.
    The next time I see my cat at the bottom of the stairs, he ' s no longer a cat. In fact, his new massive dog-shape startles me until he levels a long look in my direction to let me know it ' s him. I exhale. He turns away, head pointed at the front windows. Listening. Watching.
    Swallowing hard, I dare to inch the curtains aside enough to get a peek. The driveway is empty and there ' s no one at the door.
    But I notice them. The two guys standing on the sidewalk , facing my house. Not approaching, not passing by, just standing and watching. Waiting for me. Because they know me, and I know instantly who they are. Their presence makes my skin itch all over. I put my hand to my throat where the scar used to be.
    I jerk back from the window, take a breath to steady my nerves, then steal another glance.
    The sidewalk is empty.
    Without thinking, I abandon the duffel bag and take off upstairs, throw open my parents ' bedroom door and shove my hands beneath their bed. Shoe boxes full of receipts, birthday cards, old letters, are all cast aside until I get my hands around a metal lock-box.
    And it ' s locked. Imagine that.
    Why, Dad, why ? He doesn ' t even have kids in the house anymore, what ' s the point of locking up his gun? I shake it in frustration.
    Downstairs, Algonquin barks a warning. I bolt for the steps , planning to slip out the kitchen door and escape through the back yard. Halfway down I catch the flash of a shadow across the living room wall. I didn ' t hear them come in, but there they are. There's no way out without being seen. Algonquin barks again.
    A voice: "Man, I hate dogs."
    Second voice: "Leave it alone , Artie . Get the kitchen, I'll check upstairs."
    Shit shit shit.
    I backpedal down the hall, slipping through the closest door and into my old room. Void of all my things, cluttered with Mom's stuff. If I can't get downstairs, I'll take the window.
    Scratch that. Footsteps ascend the stairs and linger at the top. No time for climbing out, I ' ll have to wait until he goes away. It's all I can do to disappear into the closet, easing the folding doors shut.
    The bedroom door flies open. A dark-haired man steps in, surveying his surroundings. I hold my breat h, clamp a hand over my mouth. I c an't resist peering through the slats in the door and watch him move about the room. Will he sense me? Can I be tracked like I can track humans? Like prey?
    He ' s broad-shouldered and tall, messy hair brushing the tops of his shoulders. If I had any doubts of who he was when I saw him on the sidewalk, I don ' t now.
    He lingers near Mom's desk, running a hand over her papers, pausing just shy of a picture frame. He picks it up and studies the people in the