Experiment in Terror 06 Into the Hollow Read Online Free PDF

already been put away, tidying dishcloths that were already hanging pin straight. She looked up at me in surprise, wringing her hands together.
    “Oh, you’re up! I didn’t know if we should wake you or not,” she said. Her voice sounded taut, forced.
    I took a seat at the stool beside the island, the soles of my shoes bouncing on the rungs. “I’ve been up for a while.”
    “Oh. Can I get you something? I just made lunch for your father before he left.”
    “Sure, if you managed to save something for me,” I said under my breath. She didn’t seem to notice my tone and quickly pulled out a small portion of pasta from the fridge, popping it in the microwave.
    “It’s only a little bit,” she said and couldn’t help but let her eyes drift to my chest and arms. I knew what she was thinking, that I could afford to eat less. But instead of letting myself get enraged over it like I normally would have, I turned my thoughts off and looked out the window at the dreary day. If my weird telepathic thing was real and was magnified by my emotional state, I didn’t want her to find out. Not yet, when I was so close to leaving.
    “Such a bad winter,” my mother said, following my absent gaze. We hadn’t even seen much snow this year, so I didn’t even know what she was talking about. I guess my mother had relegated herself to making small talk with me. It was better than, “so a medicine man helped cure your fever, huh?”
    I made a grunt that didn’t mean anything and at the microwave’s loud beep, she bustled over to it and put the steaming bowl of marinara in front of me.
    “Thanks,” I said, poking at it with my fork.
    “Eat slowly.” She smiled cheerily and I wondered if she had recently gotten her teeth whitened. “It takes up to twenty-minutes for your brain to know it’s full. That way you’ll eat much less.”
    I put fake gratitude in my eyes and was about to take a deliberately slow bite when the doorbell rang. I jumped in my seat and the pasta almost went flying off the fork.
    My mother didn’t seem too concerned about the door and went out into the hall. I was praying it wasn’t Dex. It was too early and I wasn’t ready yet. Oh, I was nowhere near ready for this.
    I sat rigidly, waiting to hear who it was, the air held in my lungs.
    The sound of the door closing was followed by two pairs of footsteps coming down the hall.
    A tall, red head poked around the doorway and smiled at me.
    “Good afternoon, little lady,” Maximus said. He leaned against the doorframe and folded his arms. Like usual, he was wearing plaid, purple this time, and was giving off an air of comfort which annoyed me. It was like he belonged in my house or something.
    Ex-house , I reminded myself. Ex-house or so help me God.
    Mom scuttled past him, her cheeks flush as if his company made her all girlish or something. “Come on in Max. Are you hungry? I could make you something?”
    I pretended that didn’t bother me and kept my eyes on Maximus like he was going to shapeshift if I looked the other way. I couldn’t believe that it wasn’t long ago that we were standing in the kitchen, doing a cleansing ritual. I couldn’t believe I had been naked in his shower, getting off on his big fingers, having him come in my mouth. That didn’t seem like me.
    It wasn’t me.
    Was it?
    “I’m fine, Mrs. Palomino. But thank you,” he drawled. God damn stupid accent.
    She clapped her hands together lightly. “All right then. I’ll leave you two to it.”
    She left the kitchen. I wished he would have gone with her so I could have breathed a bit easier, but instead he sauntered his giant frame over to me and pulled out the stool.
    “How are you?” he asked. It was innocent enough but I couldn’t help but give him attitude.
    “How do you think I am?”
    His eyes drifted down to my chest. I tried to not look down. That was the last time I wore a tank top around the house. His eyes came up to mine before it became awkward.