Page 79 of Hollow

He stops, his eyes fierce. “Just a minute now. You rode with Brom to school?”

“Of course. He had stopped by the house to ride with me.”

“Well?” he asks, coming closer. His hair is wild now from his hands constantly tugging on it. “What did you talk about? And how could you ride with him after everything that happened last night?”

I shrug. “I didn’t want to.”

“You weren’t afraid?”

On one hand, how could I ever be afraid of Brom? I’ve known and trusted him my whole life. On the other hand, I don’t know what the last four years have done to him.

“After finding out about Meeks, I was wary,” I concede. “But I didn’t know what to say or do. And anyway, Brom knew what I was thinking. After we were on our way, he told me he didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“And you believe him?”

“I have to. It’s Brom.”

“People change, Kat. That’s when they’re the most dangerous, because you’re easily fooled.”

I throw out my arms, frustration rolling through me like thunder. “I don’t know what to believe anymore! What does this mean? Is he connected to the Hessian soldier? Is it a coincidence? Why else would Meeks be dead? Is Brom…” The lessons from this morning’s class come into my head. “Are Brom and the Hessian connected like the way you were talking about? Could there have been some blood ritual that bound them together?”

Of course, that only leads to the questions of who and why.

“Maybe,” Crane says, tapping his fingers against his chin. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s more simple than that.” He pauses, his eyes lighting up. “Maybe it’s possession.”

I nearly laugh. “You think Brom is possessed by the ghost of the headless horseman?”

“Do you have a better idea?” he says, narrowing his eyes at me.

“No,” I admit. “And no, I don’t think he’s possessed. When I was riding with Brom earlier, it was Brom.” A bewildered Brom that was adamant that he had nothing to do with Meek’s murder. It was impossible not to take him at his word. I knew he was telling the truth, and I just have to make a decision and trust that, otherwise I’ll go insane.

“You yourself said he’s been different. Violent.” The muscle in his jaw tics. “Cruel.”

“At times, but that doesn’t mean I think he’s possessed. I think he’s confused and angry and…”

“It’s not a coincidence, Kat. Those two are linked. Brom might not even realize it, or perhaps he does now. But if he truly doesn’t remember anything, then I don’t think this can be explained.” He looks away, trapped in his thoughts. “We need a way to reach him. I need to get inside his head.” He glances at me. “Is he still on campus now? I don’t know if he’s in my later classes today, but perhaps…”

“Now that he knows about us, I doubt Brom will want to talk to you again,” I tell him.

He gives me a dry smile. “So I’m not the only one with jealousy issues, then?”

“No,” I say, and I hate the little thrill that runs through me and makes my stomach do summersaults. The fact that Crane is jealous of Brom and Brom is jealous of Crane is both overwhelming and intoxicating. Both men I care about deeply, both men carrying darkness in them. The biggest difference is that one man makes me feel safe, and the other is starting to terrify me. And yet, I want them both the same.

What a dangerous path desire is.

Crane’s eyes turn molten for a second as he stares at me. “What are you thinking about?” he asks, his voice going low.

I shouldn’t tell him. I should stay focused on Brom and what we need to do about him. But there’s so much energy and anxiety coursing through my veins right now that I fear what will happen if it doesn’t have a place to go.

I hold his gaze and let the fire burn between us.

Then I take a chance.

“I’m thinking about you,” I tell him carefully. “About how safe you make me feel. All I ever wanted was to feel safe and protected and to have someone on my side and looking out for me and…” I pause, feeling more and more vulnerable, like my ribs are opening up so he can get a glimpse of my heart. “And I do. I have you. Or at least I think I do. Do I?”

He stares at me with disbelief in those stormy eyes, and for a moment, I’m afraid he’ll say something that will make all sense of safety disappear.

Then he takes two long strides across the stall and grabs my face in his large, warm hands, and instead of holding me there like he did this morning, he leans down and kisses me. It’s a hard kiss, a surprising one that nearly knocks me off my feet, and his hands are so strong, fingertips pressing into my cheekbones to keep me in place. His tongue is demanding, slipping into my mouth, and I open to him, and he takes all he can get. He moans at my taste, and I gasp as his tongue probes deeper, velvet soft and hard, and it feels like he’s using his tongue like he’d use his cock inside me, and I’m hit with a wave of desire that nearly drowns me.