Hollowed by Kelley York Read Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kelley York
reply. Nevermind the whole my sister ' s dead thing , ‘cause obviously she isn't buying it. " Go to hell, " I grind out. " You killed Sherry. "
" Who? " Blondie wrinkles her nose. Even as I say it, I know it wasn ' t them. Neither she nor Guy is familiar. She shakes her head. " Was that your friend at the river? Sorry about that; the boys got carried away. You were never supposed to be involved in any of this. "
Sorry about that? That ' s it? Sherry ' s dead, my life is ruined, and that ' s what she gives me ? Sorry about that is what you say when you break your mom ' s vase , or forget to return a loaned shirt or pay the utility bill so the lights get shut off. Sorry about that is not what you say when someone is murdered .
I ' ve never wanted to hurt someone so much in my life. Under the tears stinging my eyes from the pain and the anger, I can hardly speak without my voice shaking.
" I ' m not telling you shit. Get that tacky-ass shoe off of me before I break your leg. " Big words coming from someone lying helpless on the ground , but I can ' t help it. C an ' t see straight, can ' t think straight. All I know is I ' m going to kick this girl ' s ass the second I can move again.
Her face contorts. Not so pretty when she ' s angry . Too bad angry means she ' s probably going to kill me. Just like her friends killed Sherry. And maybe when someone asks her about me later she ' ll tell them, Sorry about that.
There ' s no reaction, though. Not before we both hear someone swooping in behind her. Not before she has a half-second to turn around and there ' s an ear-piercing crack of a gun firing against the side of her skull.
Like slow-motion, Blondie ' s eyes roll back and her attacker shoves her to one side. She hits the muddy ground to my right, where she twitches once and goes still.
Pain or no pain, I dig my heels into the earth and push myself back, nursing my ribs while trying to sit up. Behind where Blondie stood a second ago...
" Noah? "
There he is, g un in hand, staring at Blondie, mouth drawn. He ' s here. He ' s here and he rescued me.
I want to grab him and run, because he doesn ' t know what he just rescued me from. At least, he shouldn ' t, but the way he ' s watching Blondie like he expects her to get back up makes me wonder. He said he works for the government; it ' s possible they know about things like this. Maybe he knows what I am.
Already I can feel my ribs knitting back together. Slow and uncomfortable, but the pain is ebbing enough that I can carefully get to my feet.
" Noah, " I say again. Relieved. Hopeful.
His gaze slowly slides over to me. There is no kindness in his eyes. No good-natured amusement. No love. He looks at me no differently than he looked at the vampire he just shot. And it hurts. More than t ransforming, the broken ribs... the look he gives me hurts more than anything I ' ve ever felt ever since the police told me my sister was dead.
W hen he raises his gun and aims it at my heart, it doesn ' t matter. He can ' t possibly break it any further.
11 . Tuesday – 8:25pm
The split second the gun goes off, Oliver is here. A barrier separating Noah and me . He lets out a snarl that sends a shudder straight down my spine. I don ' t know what scares me more: the fact my boyfriend just tried to shoot me, or that Oliver is going to kill him for it.
Oliver grabs for him. Noah leaps back, boots landing heavily on the bridge. He fires again before turning to flee. Oliver dodges the shot and tears across the bridge after him . The boys disappear into the trees and I let the sound of gunfire lead me to them.
I ' m just in time to see Oliver slam into Noah full-force and they hit the ground rolling. They come to a stop, Noah on top. Somewhere during the fall, he must have lost his gun because his hands are empty. All the easier for him to slam a fist into Oliver ' s face. He gets in three hits before Oliver tears him off and throws him effortlessly aside.
Noah
" Who? " Blondie wrinkles her nose. Even as I say it, I know it wasn ' t them. Neither she nor Guy is familiar. She shakes her head. " Was that your friend at the river? Sorry about that; the boys got carried away. You were never supposed to be involved in any of this. "
Sorry about that? That ' s it? Sherry ' s dead, my life is ruined, and that ' s what she gives me ? Sorry about that is what you say when you break your mom ' s vase , or forget to return a loaned shirt or pay the utility bill so the lights get shut off. Sorry about that is not what you say when someone is murdered .
I ' ve never wanted to hurt someone so much in my life. Under the tears stinging my eyes from the pain and the anger, I can hardly speak without my voice shaking.
" I ' m not telling you shit. Get that tacky-ass shoe off of me before I break your leg. " Big words coming from someone lying helpless on the ground , but I can ' t help it. C an ' t see straight, can ' t think straight. All I know is I ' m going to kick this girl ' s ass the second I can move again.
Her face contorts. Not so pretty when she ' s angry . Too bad angry means she ' s probably going to kill me. Just like her friends killed Sherry. And maybe when someone asks her about me later she ' ll tell them, Sorry about that.
There ' s no reaction, though. Not before we both hear someone swooping in behind her. Not before she has a half-second to turn around and there ' s an ear-piercing crack of a gun firing against the side of her skull.
Like slow-motion, Blondie ' s eyes roll back and her attacker shoves her to one side. She hits the muddy ground to my right, where she twitches once and goes still.
Pain or no pain, I dig my heels into the earth and push myself back, nursing my ribs while trying to sit up. Behind where Blondie stood a second ago...
" Noah? "
There he is, g un in hand, staring at Blondie, mouth drawn. He ' s here. He ' s here and he rescued me.
I want to grab him and run, because he doesn ' t know what he just rescued me from. At least, he shouldn ' t, but the way he ' s watching Blondie like he expects her to get back up makes me wonder. He said he works for the government; it ' s possible they know about things like this. Maybe he knows what I am.
Already I can feel my ribs knitting back together. Slow and uncomfortable, but the pain is ebbing enough that I can carefully get to my feet.
" Noah, " I say again. Relieved. Hopeful.
His gaze slowly slides over to me. There is no kindness in his eyes. No good-natured amusement. No love. He looks at me no differently than he looked at the vampire he just shot. And it hurts. More than t ransforming, the broken ribs... the look he gives me hurts more than anything I ' ve ever felt ever since the police told me my sister was dead.
W hen he raises his gun and aims it at my heart, it doesn ' t matter. He can ' t possibly break it any further.
11 . Tuesday – 8:25pm
The split second the gun goes off, Oliver is here. A barrier separating Noah and me . He lets out a snarl that sends a shudder straight down my spine. I don ' t know what scares me more: the fact my boyfriend just tried to shoot me, or that Oliver is going to kill him for it.
Oliver grabs for him. Noah leaps back, boots landing heavily on the bridge. He fires again before turning to flee. Oliver dodges the shot and tears across the bridge after him . The boys disappear into the trees and I let the sound of gunfire lead me to them.
I ' m just in time to see Oliver slam into Noah full-force and they hit the ground rolling. They come to a stop, Noah on top. Somewhere during the fall, he must have lost his gun because his hands are empty. All the easier for him to slam a fist into Oliver ' s face. He gets in three hits before Oliver tears him off and throws him effortlessly aside.
Noah
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