If You've Got It, Haunt It: A ghost romance (The Peyton Clark Series Book 4)

by H. P. Mallory

  I stood up when I realized there was nothing more she could do for us, giving her a warm smile. Then I turned to face Lovie. “What now?”

  Lovie shrugged. “I don’t see anyone else here.”

  “No one is here,” the spirit said before she continued to rock back and forth.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I felt cold and weak by the time we made it back to Lovie’s car and Daschel could only give me so much comfort.

  “That was a ridiculous waste of time,” I said.

  “Not necessarily,” Lovie argued.

  “What did we find out?” I asked as I looked at her.

  “Well, ya said that spirit was in your vision, right?”

  “Yeah, but so what?”

  “So we are one step closer to solvin’ the mystery.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “Well, ya matched the spirit to your vision so that’s something.”

  “I think you’re just looking for a silver lining.”

  She laughed. I was serious.

  I became quiet, feeling flimsy and breathless. My eyes were drooping with exhaustion.

  “Do you mind if we stop at Ryan’s house and check to see if he’s there?” I asked.

  “Sure,” Lovie answered with a quick nod. “I think you should stay in the car though. Until we know the connection between whoever’s controllin’ Ryan an’ whoever’s controllin’ you, we need to be careful,” she explained.

  “I get it,” I said.

  “An’ now that I’m thinkin’ about it, I believe we should all take turns keepin’ an eye on you.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “If you have been selected to be someone’s zombi, that means they’ll be callin’ for ya sooner or later. I don’t think we should take any chances an’ someone should be assigned to watch ya at all times.”

  I nodded because she made a fair point. “I hate feeling like a burden.”

  “You’re no burden, Peyton,” she said. “We just need to figure some things out an’ once we do, we’ll get that curse lifted.”

  I felt powerless. I couldn’t even walk on my own without Daschel. My breath caught as a bead of hot moisture rolled down my cheek and I started feeling sorry for myself again. I sniffled and my heart started racing as we arrived at Ryan’s house. The light was on in his living room.

  “The light’s on,” I said as I turned to face Lovie. “Was it on before?”

  “No,” she said.

  His truck was parked in the driveway and the lights upstairs were turned off, which meant he was downstairs, right?

  “Peyton,” Lovie started as she pulled up in front of Ryan’s driveway.

  “He’s home,” I said as I opened the car door. I needed nothing more than to see Ryan’s handsome face, and feel his big arms around me, to know he was okay. I stepped out of Lovie’s car with Daschel at my side.

  “Peyton!” Lovie shouted.

  But I kept walking, almost in slow motion as I approached Ryan’s door. It felt like the sun was finally rising after a night that lasted a thousand years. Ryan was home! In a few seconds, I would be reunited with him and that was all that mattered. Damn whatever the hell went on between us. I just had to see him. I had to make sure he was okay and then I’d get back in Lovie’s car and drive to my house. That was all I wanted, and all I was looking for. All the comfort I needed, and Ryan was the only one who could provide it.

  I pounded on his door. “Ryan!”

  “Peyton!” Lovie yelled out. I could see her stomping through the grass from the corner of my eye.

  “Peyton, come back!” She reached for me and I pulled away.

  “Ryan!” I knocked on the door again, pressing my ear against the door. “Ryan?”

  “Ya need to come back,” Lovie insisted. She was out of breath.

  “Let me ju…”

  I reached out to knock again when the curtains parted and I saw Ryan’s face behind them.

  “You’re okay!” I said as a huge smile nearly made me laugh.

  The light suddenly went off and the curtains closed. I was left facing the front door. I knew Ryan was inside, and he knew I was outside, but he wasn’t doing anything about it.

  “Lovie?” I started as I turned to face her.

  “Come with me back to the car,” Lovie said as she took my arm and I leaned against her, even more worn out than I’d been all day.

  “I don’t understand,” I said. “He saw me.”

  “I know,” Lovie said.

  “But, he didn’t open the door.”

  “I know.”

  Somehow, Lovie managed to get me into the car and drive the short distance to my house. When she parked out front, she hurried over to my side and helped me out, which was a feat since I was much taller than she was.

  “Peyton,” Lovie grabbed me by the elbow as Maggie appeared on the porch. She hurried down to help support my weight and the three of us walked across my front yard.

  Daschel watched me closely, sniffing my leg. He trotted alongside as they brought me through the yard. Angharad was standing next to my open door, using a water bottle to squirt something onto my porch.

  “Robber repellant,” she said, smiling before crumpling the bottle up and throwing it behind her. Maggie gave her a look, then she stopped and gaped as the plastic bottle disappeared into the grass. I was still shell-shocked, wondering why the hell Ryan refused to open his door.

  “He saw me,” I whispered again as I shook my head and searched for a plausible explanation. “I know he saw me.”

  “Watch it,” Lovie said as she opened the front door. She kicked a white ceramic shard aside before assisting me onto the couch. The piece clattered against the wall and flipped over, revealing a tiny pair of lips.

  Lips?

  “What happened?” I asked, taking in the room. A sword lay on the rug and pieces of Lizzie were scattered everywhere. My heart dropped.

  “She was wearing this,” Angharad showed Lovie the locket Lizzie was wearing when I bought her. It was a picture of the Blessed Mother, Mary, now sliced in half, where the sword struck it, and the face was dark.

  “That adornment is dedicated to the patron Loa of New Orleans, Erzulie Dantor,” Lovie said.

  “What does that mean?” I asked although I didn’t really care. I could barely even keep my eyes open.

  “It means Lizzie was protecting your house,” Angharad said. She produced a dustpan and a broom from the folds of her shawls and handed them both to Maggie. “Clean it up, child.”

  Maggie did as she was told, too flustered to argue. Daschel lifted himself up to sniff the locket. He whined and turned to me.

  “Who… who did this?” I asked.

  Angharad shrugged. “We don’t know.”

  “You didn’t see anything?” Lovie asked.

  Maggie returned and shook her head. “I was in my room, with my tarot deck and I pulled a court card. That’s when I heard a ruckus so I came downstairs to investigate. I found this.” She swept some pieces of ceramic into a pile she made.

  Angharad marched over to where Maggie was standing. “You shouldn’t be playing with tarot cards! You need more practice, child! You aren’t a witch just because you want to be! No more of this nonsense of yours! Get that salt out of the corners too.”

  “I think she did a good job,” Lovie said.

  “It’s sour. I can smell it,” Angharad sniffed.

  I stood up and the three of them stopped what they were doing, like they expected me to keel over and die right there in my living room. I probably would have if they hadn’t let me through. I turned to push past them and they parted slightly.

  “Peyton,” Lovie said, but her words were lost to the wind coming from the open front door.

  “There’s nothing to be done tonight,” I told her. I was tired and still cold and I didn’t understand why Ryan was avoiding me. I wanted to send all of them home, although I knew they wouldn’t leave. Especially now that
Lovie decided I needed to be watched twenty-four/seven—which wasn’t easy to accept.

  “We knew Ryan was home, Peyton,” Lovie said.

  I turned to face her with a frown. “Then why?”

  “He said he didn’t want to see you or us,” Lovie answered and I watched Maggie bow her head in obvious guilt. They both knew he didn’t want to see me, but neither said anything.

  “You were sick and we didn’t want to make it worse,” Maggie explained as she lifted her chin and her eyes met mine.

  “Did he say why?” I asked.

  “He didn’t. Other than he was overwhelmed,” Lovie answered. “I have a feelin’ that whatever happened to you the night before ya woke up in your garden musta happened to him too an’ it spooked him.” She paused. “So much so that he decided he had enough.”

  “So why not talk about it?” I asked.

  Lovie shook her head. “People handle fear in different ways.”

  I nodded. I couldn’t blame him really. I’d had enough too and I was the one living the nightmare.

  “I’m going to bed,” I said without waiting for anyone to respond. I walked upstairs with Daschel beside me and opened my bedroom door. My bed was a welcome sight. I stripped my clothes off, wrapped myself in my comforter, and collapsed on my bed. Daschel jumped up and lay beside me.

  Even though I wanted to very badly, I couldn’t sleep. My mind was racing with thoughts. Lizzie was protecting my house and got destroyed for it. Someone entered my house while Maggie was in her room and destroyed the doll with a sword that they left behind.

  But why would they leave the sword behind? Maybe whoever destroyed Lizzie got spooked and hastily dropped the sword on their way out?

  Regardless, this was a sign. I was definitely in danger, which meant everyone around me was also. Ryan was the smart one. In deciding to avoid me, he was probably taking the necessary steps to ensure his own safety.

  Scared and powerless, I hated that no one knew what was happening to me—and no one knew what I was facing. Lovie couldn’t explain what was going on, and Angharad was all empty talk. She wanted to seem more powerful than she was; and she had a lot of tricks, but she didn’t know anything when it came to the secrets of the soul and spirit. She was no more help than a stage magician.

  They would get themselves killed if they continued to try and help me. I wasn’t even sure I wanted their help, which hadn’t amounted to very much. I wanted to be alone quite honestly. I didn’t want to speak to anyone or see anyone. I wanted peace and quiet.

  I could hear Drake’s voice coming from the living room and I realized he was talking to Lovie and Angharad, telling them what he saw. He would know the identity of the person who broke in.

  Not that it really mattered. I believed whoever broke in wasn’t the bigwig of the whole operation. It would not have surprised me in the least if it turned out to be a ghostly child.

  Whoever directed what was happening to me was powerful. So much so, they wouldn’t waste their time breaking into my house themselves. They would order someone else do it for them, probably in the same way they controlled me.

  There was a soft knock on the door that interrupted my morbid thoughts. I sat up and watched the door open and the light from the hallway spilled into my room.

  It was Maggie. “Peyton, Angharad found this.”

  She handed me a sealed envelope. Scribbled on the front was my name. I opened it, my comforter still wrapped around me, and turned the lamp on beside the bed. I blinked to clear my tired eyes. The note was from Ryan. I recognized his handwriting immediately.

  Peyton,

  When my wife died, I told myself she was the only person I could share my life with. Then I met you, and you blew that belief right out of the water. You were too charming, too stubborn and too beautiful and I was a goner.

  I opened my home and my heart to you, and I took a risk, because I believed we could be something special together. In you, I hoped to find the same happiness I’d known with my wife. But I realized you and I are seeking different goals in life. I just want a stable life with someone to come home to and hopefully, have kids with some day.

  You have way too much chaos in your life to lead a simple one. You’re all about ghosts and magic and witches. Yes, you’re a sensitive and you see things that other people can’t and that’s not your fault. But you also welcome those things into your life. I believe you have an unnatural obsession with things that shouldn’t be messed with. And even when you’re in danger, you don’t back away.

  And then there’s Drake. Even if I were willing to continue to try to make this work with you, I could never have you all to myself. You are in love with Drake, Peyton. Yes, I believe you’re also in love with me but the unfortunate part is: you can’t have us both, yet you insist on trying. I’m tired of competing with someone who isn’t even alive. I deserve better than that, Peyton. I want better than that.

  Last of all, I’m not sure what happened the other night but something did. I’m not ready to confront that mystery yet. When I woke up, you were gone and I was left with the distinct feeling that something bad happened to me. I can’t live like this, Peyton. I’m a simple man seeking a simple life.

  I’m leaving town for a while because I have to get away. When I come home, I want things between us to be different. I want to be your neighbor, not your boyfriend—even if I am still in love with you. I doubt that will go away anytime soon.

  Please respect my wishes,

  Ryan.

  After I read the letter, I thought about something I hadn’t considered in a long time—my beach house—well, Jonathan’s beach house in California. A few years after we married, he came rushing home, his face red from drinking, with a set of keys in his hand.

  He told me he just bought Paradise, and kept talking about it the entire time we drove there. The beach house had four bedrooms, a spa, a deck that stretched out over the cliffs, and a view of the sun setting over the western Pacific.

  There was even a little staircase carved into the cliffside, so I could go down to the beach below. And for a while, that became my life: sunsets, beach walks and wine. Alone. Every night and day, the same damn thing. Paradise but I was alone. I was in a loveless marriage with a man who preferred himself and his work to me.

  I lived as a married woman, but I remained isolated and alone, until the day when I decided I no longer wanted to live that way. Marriage was supposed to be about sharing experiences, not avoiding them.

  Ryan’s experience wasn’t so different. He felt isolated and hurt, trying to make it work with a woman who didn’t want the same things he did and he was right. My life was filled with ghosts and magic and witches. The supernatural is as much me as I am it. It wasn’t my fault, just as it wasn’t Ryan’s fault that he yearned for a simpler existence. We were different people, cut from different bolts of cloth who happened to fall in love with each other.

  He was also correct about something else. I was in love with Drake and had been for a long time. And I believe that knowledge was painful to Ryan. There was no way I could ever choose between them. Yes, Ryan was flesh and blood and alive, but that didn’t change my unwillingness to remove Drake from my house.

  I placed the note on my side table and looked up at the empty hallway. I didn’t realize Maggie left, but now the light from the hallway looked as cold and empty as I felt.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  When I heard the knock at my bedroom door, I turned over, throwing one arm across Daschel.

  “Go away,” I grumbled.

  “Peyton, you need to eat,” Maggie shouted through the door. I hadn’t eaten since I left The Old Absinthe House, and my stomach was starting to protest. Seconds later, I remembered that Ryan dumped me and I lost my appetite all over again.

  “Peyton,” Maggie called as she knocked more aggressively. “It’s my turn to watch you and I can’t do that through the door!”

  I groaned.

  There was something decidedly shitty a
bout being babysat as an adult. But such was life.

  Now, things weren’t allowed to be simple anymore. Now that I was too weak to handle basic tasks, I was reliant on everyone around me. Holding onto Daschel for leverage, I pulled myself up and threw my legs over the side of my bed. Taking a deep breath, I stood up, testing my weight. I didn’t want to collapse when the door was locked and I was on this side of it. Daschel was a big help, but last I checked, he lacked opposable thumbs, which are required for opening doors.

  “I’m coming,” I grumbled.

  “Oh, and someone is here for you,” Maggie said with more than a little concern. “He keeps knocking on the door and he won’t go away.”

  “Sounds like someone else we both know,” I muttered. “Tell him we don’t want solicitors,” I called back.

  “I’ve tried but he won’t leave.”

  When I opened the door, Daschel blocked my path and stuck his head out before pulling it back in and whining.

  “Who is it?” I asked.

  “I don’t know because I didn’t open the door.” She took a quick breath. “Whoever it is, they’re very insistent.”

  I didn’t care who was downstairs; I didn’t care about anything. I just wanted to go back to bed and lose consciousness, dreaming about another life that wasn’t mine. But Maggie was already grabbing my hand and leading me out of the room. I could hear the sound of someone banging on my front door.

  So help me God, whoever was on the other side of the door was about to get an earful. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with this shit and someone had to suffer for it.

  “Open the door, Maggie,” I said as I paused on the stairs and leaned over. I summoned all the strength I had remaining but it was a good ten feet to the door and it seemed like fifty.

  Maggie swallowed hard and nodded as she opened the door… and gasped. Then I gasped. The person standing out front was Drake. Only it wasn’t Drake. It took me a second or two to realize that.