I opened the message expecting to find another invitation to an open house; but instead, I read a terse message from the woman urging me to contact her immediately.
Peyton,
I’ve been trying to call your cell for two days now but it keeps going to voicemail. There’s an issue with your aunt’s will that affects your ownership rights to the house. I need you to contact me as soon as possible.
Mela Abderman
Abderman Realty
I looked up from the phone, feeling slightly dizzy. I had no idea what it meant, but the email contrasted so sharply with the events of the last twenty-four hours that I couldn’t even wrap my head around it. An issue with the will? It stated pretty clearly that the property was mine. Mela did have a tendency towards histrionics. It was nothing that couldn’t wait until I had a chance to go back and rest at least.
Confused, I passed the phone to Ryan.
“What do you think she means?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” he sounded worried. My brain was too fried to know how to interpret the information. “Are you going to call her?”
“I will tomorrow,” I said, my voice sounding tired. And I felt it too. Even if I slept an entire day after my adventure into the past, today’s escapades didn’t exactly leave me in a rested or rejuvenated state. Besides, there were more pressing issues than contracts. Right now, the only thing I cared about with regards to my house was whether or not it was still haunted. I put my phone back in my bag and my eyes settled on Ryan. He’s been uncharacteristically quiet for the entire ride. Our relationship was rocky, to say the least. I knew he had his own baggage to sort through; we were each grieving for someone who was no longer here. I felt closer to him knowing that he at least somewhat understood me, even if we could never discuss it. I made a mental note to be a better girlfriend.
As soon as the plane wheels touched the ground, some of my anxiety diminished. I was so close to being home, and finding out if Drake were safe. Even though I made a pledge to be a better girlfriend, Drake saved my life on more than one occasion and I would always care for him even if I couldn’t be with him. That’s what I kept telling myself.
By the time we got back to New Orleans, I was beyond exhausted. It was just Ryan and I, since Lovie had to leave to join Christopher on the job he ran off to do.
I slept the whole car ride home. The large, heated seats in Ryan’s big pickup truck were all the invitation I needed to shut my eyes.
When we pulled up in front of my house, Ryan didn’t turn off the car. He gave me a long, somber look.
“Do you want me to come in with you?” he asked.
I ignored the question and said what I’d been thinking the whole journey home. “Ryan, thank you so much for being here for me through all of this. I’m so lucky to have you and I’m sorry I haven’t been the best at communicating that. I promise things will go back to normal soon but after everything I saw, I’m still a little thrown. I need a moment to calm down and reorganize myself.” I looked at him apologetically.
He nodded, his mouth flattening into a contemplative line. He strong jaw was speckled with the beginnings of a beard. The adventure hadn’t been easy on him either. I reached across the large seats of the truck and wrapped him in a hug. As I pulled away, our eyes met and my stomach flipped. Staring into his eyes, I felt such unbridled passion and love, it made my heart swell in my chest. I truly loved this man.
“I’ll come check on you in a few hours, okay?” he said. I kissed him, grateful for his swift understanding. Ryan’s mouth opened eagerly in response to mine and it took everything I had for me to pull away from him, but I couldn’t relax until I found out what happened to Drake.
I exited the truck and made my way up to my front door. Terrified by what was about to meet me, I unlocked the front door with a shaky hand and stepped inside.
My shoes echoed as I made my way across the hard floor. The Wooton replica was still sitting unmoved in the front room. My chest tightened.
“Hello?” I called out. “Drake?”
In response, a large gust of wind tore through the house. It whipped my hair around my face and slammed the still open front door. My body melted with relief. Drake was here!
TWENTY-SEVEN
I gasped when I saw Drake again in the dreamscapes.
I quickly fell asleep on the bed in my guest bedroom and no sooner did my body slip into unconsciousness before I was reunited with Drake’s in his magnificent abode from the 1900s.
“Ma minette,” he said with a coy smile. He was dressed in his police uniform and standing against the bar, his posture instantly manifesting his boyish charm. I ran to him, wrapping my arms around his strong body. Relief washed over me and, for the first time since waking up from the broom closet, I felt like myself again. I sighed when he wrapped his arms around me and bear-hugged me back. I inhaled the intoxicating scent of his cologne, and became temporarily distracted by its potency. Then, remembering my pledge to be a better girlfriend to Ryan, I released him.
“What happened?” I asked him. “Where did we go wrong?”
“I do not know, mon chaton. We were separated. I tried to find my way back to you but I couldn’t manage to do it in time. I woke up here.”
“I’m so happy you’re okay,” I said, flopping down on one of his large armchairs.
I told Drake everything that happened during my return trip to the hospital.
“So that’s why Ada couldn’t communicate with Dorothy the first time?” he mused. “She was past the point of reason?”
“Can you believe that torment?” I asked, feeling so happy to finally discuss it with someone who knew all the intricacies of what happened.
“Non, the final moments of Dorothy’s life were tragic, to say the least. To die in that much terror, I can’t imagine a worse fate,” he said, swirling the whisky in his glass with a pensive expression.
I relaxed further into the chair. Drake looked worried.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Nothing, it’s just that when my spirit returned to the house, something tried to stop me.”
I sat straight up in the chair. “What do you mean?” I asked him with more than a little concern.
“Well, I don’t know exactly. I couldn’t actually see anything, just a glowing pair of white eyes. The figure was black, and he was grabbing onto you. I had to let go of you to fight him. That’s why I didn’t come back with you. By the time I escaped, you were already gone.”
I remembered the pressure on my hand that filled me with dread. Something, or someone, prevented Drake from coming back with me. Maybe they were trying to stop me from coming back too. I shuddered at the thought.
“Do you think it had anything to do with the disappearing souls and Guarda?” I asked with visible apprehension.
“I have no idea. That was my first thought too, but whatever tried to stop me from returning with you didn’t stick around long enough to fight. My spirit awoke in the house.”
I yawned. Even though I was technically asleep during our meetings, they weren’t exactly restful.
“Get some sleep now, mon chaton,” said Drake, “We can discuss this in more depth later.”
“I never thought I’d say this, but things were actually easier when you lived in my head.”
He nodded, “I agree, and it takes a lot of energy for me to contact you like this.”
For a moment, we both looked sad, each ruminating on what we’d lost. Neither one of us acknowledged it, however, not to each other anyway.
“Goodnight, Peyton,” said Drake. In a flash of black, he was gone.
***
I woke up to the smell of bacon and the sound of whistling. Groggy and disoriented, I stumbled from bed.
Ryan was in the kitchen standing over a collection of pans. Smoke drifted up from the stovetop and the enticing smells caused a low growl to emerge from deep within my stomach. He was wearing a tight-fitting, gray t-shirt that allowed me the perfect view of hi
s tapering back muscles. My heart fluttered inside my chest.
“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he said, flipping the bacon. I walked up behind him and gave him a hearty squeeze. He turned to face me and planted a kiss on my forehead. I smiled into his shirt, inhaling his clean smell. I had to admit my appreciation at not hearing the voice of a complaining Frenchman, cursing me for not shutting him out and making him bear witness to the moment. It was just Ryan and I now. Suddenly, the fire beneath the pan flared up and Ryan and I jumped back with a collective yelp. I rolled my eyes. Even if he weren’t in my head, the cranky Frenchman still occupied my house. Maybe it was worse to have him loose now. If he were still in my head, I could at least control what he saw. Ryan leaned down to give me another kiss, but this time, I just gave him a short peck and felt suddenly anxious.
“Am I right to guess we have an audience?” Ryan asked. I resented his chipper mood but I knew he was more than happy to have Drake out of my head, even if we had to be more careful regarding fire hazards!
“Grab some plates?” Ryan said, ignoring my sudden shift in mood and the fire flare-up.
I offered him my best smile as he resumed whistling and carefully turned off all the flames.
At the table, things began to feel more natural again. I was happy to be home.
“So, when are we moving that beast of a Wooton you have in there?” he asked.
“A Wooton replica,” I corrected him with a coy smile.
“Oh, sorry, Ms. Expert. You know, there’s another piece of furniture I was hoping to move this morning,” he said with a playful wink. Even though my stomach flipped nervously, I laughed along with him.
“Insatiable!” I yelled affectionately. He came around from his side of the table and kissed my neck.
“It’s good to have you back, Pey,” he said sincerely.
I looked up at him from my place in the chair. His dimpled smile delighted me. I must confess my weakness for that smile. I was just about to suggest going to his house when our moment was interrupted by a loud knock on the door. I wondered who it could be, thinking maybe it was Jill. I knew she’d be coming to ask about any news we had. I was waiting for Lovie to tell both Ada and Jill what we found; and to let them know that Dorothy and Alice were finally reunited.
Shrugging off Ryan’s curious expression, I pushed the chair away from the table. I made my way to the door and opened it, expecting to find Jehovah’s Witnesses. It was not Jehovah’s Witnesses, however, nor was it Jill. My jaw dropped and I had to grab the door to stop myself from fainting. Standing on my doorstep, in the flesh, in 2018, wearing a suit, and staring at me with those familiar chocolate brown eyes that I knew so well, was Drake Montague!
“Peyton Clark?” he asked, but I just continued to stare. The previous vision from before, when I woke up in New York came back to me. It felt like the most extreme case of déjà vu I’d ever experienced. Just like before, there was something off about Drake. I gaped at him, my brain reeling. There was no French accent, but I recognized the same low voice, and the same dark hair and chiseled jaw. His chest and arms were as broad and imposing as I recalled. I heard Ryan behind me. He placed a hand on my shoulder. I remained silent, just staring.
“Hello,” Ryan said politely, “can we help you?”
I looked on in shock as Ryan smiled amiably at the Drake doppelganger on my porch, seemingly unfazed. Then it dawned on me Ryan had no idea what Drake looked like.
“Yes, actually, I think you can. You could start by leaving my house.”
Ryan moved to step in front of me, because I was still staring at the man with my mouth open in disbelief. I couldn’t close it. It was impossible for the man to be Drake. Now that I looked closer, I realized he wasn’t. The eyes were the same but this man’s hair was much lighter, sandier. His nose was crooked in a few places and his mouth was fuller too. He did, however, possess the same strong chin and the unmistakable, soft brown irises.
“Excuse me?” asked Ryan, his voice less than polite.
The man opened up a briefcase he’d been holding and pulled out a manila envelope. “In accordance with Louisiana property laws, this house rightfully and legally belongs to me. It was purchased unlawfully and therefore, you have no claim to it. This house belongs to the Montague family. It was left to my grandfather. Since it sat empty for more than five years before exchanging hands, it rightfully belongs to the next of kin. No one claimed it, but I did some digging. After I found some papers in the attic, I looked into it some more. This house originally belonged to my great uncle, which makes me the rightful owner. Seeing as how you’ve been ignoring the calls from my lawyer and your realtor, I figured it was time that I paid you a personal visit.” If I weren’t still so shocked by his appearance, I might have heard more of what he said. But I just continued to stare in disbelief and confusion. Luckily, Ryan managed to keep his head.
“Hold on,” Ryan started, “Montague? As in Drake Montague?”
“Indeed. He was my uncle. My name is Luke,” he held out his hand to shake Ryan’s.
My breathing turned ragged. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. All the events of the last week came crashing down around me and my arms started to shake. I couldn’t catch my breath.
Luke passed Ryan the manila envelope.
“Look, I think you should leave,” said Ryan, casting a wary glance at the envelope and then at me. He wrapped his arm around my heaving shoulders and helped me sit. Luke stayed standing in my doorway.
“I’ve been waiting for days to speak to Ms. Clark. This happens to be time-sensitive.”
Ryan’s brows furrowed menacingly. “Get the hell out of here before I call the police,” Ryan’s voice boomed.
“You’ll be hearing from my lawyer,” said Luke from the doorway. “Next time, I suggest you answer your phone.” Ryan angrily moved toward him but before he could close the space between Luke and him, a great, rattling wind tore through the house. It slammed the door in Luke’s face. My heart surged with appreciation for Drake. Gradually, my breathing returned to normal but I couldn’t deal with the shock of the unexpected meeting. I hadn’t even begun to process what he said about the title to the house. When I saw his eyes, they were Drake’s eyes, and that’s all that stuck with me. I thought I might be sick.
Ryan stared at the documents he pulled out from inside the packet and let out a low whistle.
“There’s no way this can be right! Your aunt lived here her whole life! He can’t just swoop in like that. I have a buddy that works down at the zoning commission: he’ll know all about inheritance laws. I’ll give him a call.”
I didn’t really process anything that Ryan said. He looked at me with more than a little concern. I wondered if he knew I was worried about much more than just the ownership of the house, and judging by the look in his eye, I suspected he did.
“He looked just like him, Ryan,” I said shakily, still recovering.
Ryan nodded and opened his mouth to speak but before he could say anything, my phone rang from inside my pocket.
Startled by another interruption, I pulled the phone out. It was Jill. Casting an apologetic look at Ryan, I slid my finger across the screen to answer.
“Hello?” I asked, my breathing still irregular.
“Hi, Peyton, it’s Jill,” her voice sounded tired and scratchy. “I just wanted to call to tell you…” her voice trailed off and she took a deep, shaky breath, “Mom’s passed.”
My heart sank at hearing her words. Now I couldn’t tell Ada that we reunited her mother and grandmother. She died without ever solving the mystery. Ryan looked at me with a raised eyebrow, and I knew he was watching my expression carefully.
“I’m so sorry, Jill. I hoped to speak to both of you about what we found out. I actually contacted Dorothy yesterday.”
“You did?” Jill’s voice raised somewhat. “What time?”
“Oh, gosh, I don’t know. Late afternoon probably? Maybe a little after five o’clock?”
I
heard a sniffle on the other end of the line.
“Are you okay?” I asked, wishing I could be with her in person to reassure her after her mother’s passing.
Jill sniffled again, when she spoke her voice was wet with tears, “Mom passed yesterday at exactly five-twelve p.m.”
***
Later that night, as I drifted off to sleep, I dreamed of Drake’s study.
“You’ve had quite a day, ma minette,” said Drake as his familiar image formed completely out of the smokiness.
I stayed quiet and pensive in the chair. I needed so badly to escape from everything. It was all becoming too much: the house, Jill and Ada, Drake and Ryan. My brain was on overdrive and my body was still recuperating from all the exhausting events of the week. I struggled to categorize everything, but I was too overwhelmed with new questions and utter confusion. It was all too much. On top of my own personal issues, the gnawing guilt that I let Jill down persisted. What if I hadn’t done enough?
I lowered my face into my hands and started to cry. Hot tears fell from my eyes and all of my recent worries came spilling out with them. They splashed onto the leather armchair. Drake sat down next to me.
“I’m sorry,” said Drake. “I know I’m partially to blame for how you feel.”
“You never told me Lucien had a son! Or that you left him the house in your will… You never told me anything!” I nearly shouted at him.
“I didn’t know! I promise you. I hated my brother. I wouldn’t have left him my toothbrush. In fact, I never even wrote a will.”
I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter now,” I said drearily. “None of it matters.”
“Of course it matters! Look at you, ma minette! I apologize that any descendant of mine dared to cause you any anguish.”
Brown Eyed Ghoul: A Ghostly Paranormal Romance Series (The Peyton Clark Series Book 3) Page 32