Page 29 of Possess Me

“I see,” Franklin said, though of course he didn’t. Not yet. “Then let us keep an open mind as we chat. Tell me why you called me. Leave nothing out, even if you believe it was only in your mind.”

It was harder to start talking than he’d anticipated. After all, he’d spent his life building walls, locking his vulnerabilities away where no one could see them. But now, with Nikki slipping through his fingers and that damn house breathing down his neck, he needed to show his cards. Because Nikki’s sanity—hell, maybe her life—depended on it.

And so he began. He told Franklin everything. From the original impulse to buy the house to the strange connection Nikki seemed to have with the place. He told Franklin about the violent—even bloody—sex. About the way the house seemed to whisper.

He couldn’t explain it, but something about the place felt off. Wrong in a way that defied logic or reason. He wasn’t a man who believed in ghosts or curses. But if the house wasn’t haunted, it was doing a damn good impression of it.

Franklin’s expression barely changed as Damien laid it all out, but Damien caught the slight tilt of his head, the way his eyes narrowed just a fraction. Observing. Analyzing. The look of a man who could see straight through bullshit.

Damien kept going, telling Franklin about the changes to his wife. The strange obsession with Vivien Lorainne. The distance. “She goes out without telling me where she’s going. Comes back with nothing but nonsense.”

“Nonsense?”

“Trinkets. Little things. Nothing that matters.”

Franklin hummed thoughtfully. “And what do you think it means?”

An impotent rage rose inside him. “I haven’t got a fucking clue. All I know is that she’s not Nikki anymore.” He closed his eyes. Tried to tamp down the fury … and the fear. “I need you, sir. I need you to tell me how to bring her back.” He shook his head, then sighed. “I sound insane.”

“You don’t,” Franklin said smoothly. “But you do sound like a man who’s troubled. And I certainly see why.”

Damien closed his eyes, then drew a breath. “It’s the house, isn’t it? It feels … wrong. Like it’s alive. Like it’s seeping into her, changing her.” He let out a sharp breath. “I know how ridiculous that sounds, but I can’t shake it.”

God, he sounded unhinged.

Franklin nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. “You’re worried, of course. And it’s true—houses can carry energy. Memories. It’s not unheard of.”

“So you’re saying—”

“No,” Franklin said firmly. He sat back. “Your house isn’t haunted, Damien. Of that, I’m certain. What I’m saying is that when you hear hoof beats, think horses, not zebras.”

“What do you mean?”

Franklin steepled his fingers. “You know I’m interested in the occult, so a haunted house is not something that I would dismiss without certainty. But despite the stories over the years, there hasn’t been any credible indication of a haunting at your cottage.”

Damien thought of the strange noises. Nikki’s behavior. The stories that Franklin was so easily dismissing.

Franklin laughed. “You’re thinking too loud, my friend. Come on, if the house were truly haunted, don’t you think someone in my position would know it?”

Damien dragged his fingers through his hair. “Fine. But what’s your point?”

“I’m saying that when someone feels trapped, they often act out. So you tell me. Which is more likely— that Nikki is working through some sort of frustration or that some dark presence in your house is manipulating her?”

“You think Nikki feels trapped?” Damien shook his head. “No. I’m sorry, but you’re wrong. You don’t know my wife. You don’t know us.”

“Perhaps not,” Franklin said. “But I know how stress can impact a person. How changes in environment can be a trigger. And I also know a bit about your wife’s history. She was very brave to talk publicly about her history with cutting, but it is her history.”

Damien tightened his hand around his Scotch, not sure if that was to center himself or to have it at the ready in case he decided to throw it. He kept his voice steady as he said, very slowly and very clearly, “What exactly are you saying?”

“I think it’s very likely that Nikki is having an affair.”

Damien went completely still. “No.” The word was immediate. Firm.

And yet…

“No,” he repeated.

Franklin tilted his head. “You sound certain.”