Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Chapter 18
Crane
“Professor Crane,” a student named Matilda, her brown, unruly hair always in a high bun, puts up her hand and starts waving it once I notice her. She’s huddled in the corner with two other students, Josephine and Mark, trying to enter each other’s minds and, from the looks of it, not having a lot of luck with it.
I go over to them, but my eyes drift over to Kat and Brom where they sit with their desks turned toward each other. I’ve been watching them the entire class, unable to look away. The student they’re working with, Paul, has given me a look a few times as if to ask me what my problem is, why I’m staring, but I can’t explain it to him any more than I can explain to them.
How is this happening? How did Abe, my Abe, end up in my classroom?
It’s him. There’s no doubt now that it’s him. When I first walked into the room, I thought I was looking at a ghost from my past. Then I figured there was no possibility this could be the same man I’d been with in New York. Despite looking exactly the same as before, there was one big difference: he no longer looked afraid. That fear was replaced with a blankness. And when he looked me in the eyes for just the briefest of moments, his eyes held nothing in them. They were glass black and empty. He didn’t see me at all. No recognition, no nothing. I would have been insulted, as if my cock was that forgettable, had it not been so confusing.
But when Sister Margaret announced him as Abraham Van Brunt, that sealed the deal.
It was him.
My haunted lover.
My hunted lover.
And he’s here for reasons I don’t understand.
Then there’s the fact that Kat knows him. Knows him well. Perhaps even loved him at one point, judging by the fierceness of their embrace.
Jealousy stabbed me like a knife to the heart. I was jealous of him. I was jealous of her. Two humans I craved having this ease and intimacy with each other, giving each other what I wanted.
But then they were called out into the hall by a Sister Margaret that I barely recognized, her face stretched with glee. I don’t know much about Sleepy Hollow, I don’t know their legends and their ghosts and what has happened in the walls of this school or in the streets of their town, but it’s apparent that both Kat and Abe/Brom/Abraham have some twisted history here.
It’s absolutely maddening. To have something go on that I don’t understand is like a thorn in my side, one that’s disappeared under the skin and impossible to get out. I must get to the bottom of this because none of this makes sense, and in my experience, when things don’t make sense, that means something has gone wrong.
I walk over to Matilda, Mark, and Josephine and force myself to listen to their issues. This is psionics class, and today, we’re learning about how to block telepathic intrusion. I figured since this was something Kat had learned to do, it might be possible to give the students the same set of skills. The problem with these students is that none of them can get into each other’s minds, let alone learn how to block such an infiltration. Heaven help me from giving them all Fs.
The class drags on, and by the time I’ve dismissed everyone, I’m unable to look away from Brom or Kat. They drag their feet, lingering behind, and then I remember that Sister Margaret suggested some after-hours tutoring. How simple that must have sounded to her.
“Professor Crane,” Abe says as he approaches the desk, and fuck if that phrase doesn’t sound so sweet coming from his lips. He’d never called me professor—I don’t even think I told him I’d been one. But now that he’s saying it, I never want him to stop.
Though I should probably stop thinking of him as Abe.
“Brom,” I say with deliberation, keeping my voice level, staying seated behind my desk so he can’t see how aroused I am. It’s been a godsend with Kat this last month, and it’s coming in handy again. “Or do you prefer Abraham?”
Abe?
“Brom is fine,” he says to me, giving me a half-smile. Still nothing in his eyes for me. They’re friendly, I’ll give them that, but it’s a friendliness that seems apt to change on a dime. I’ve picked up on several mood shifts from him already.
“His nickname when we were young was Brom Bones,” Kat says. Her tone is light and easy, but from the look in her eyes, she’s feeling as bewildered as I am.
Brom Bones, huh? Fitting.
“So you two know each other from long ago,” I say, folding my hands on top of the desk.