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He has an active imagination.

We just moved into his father’s house.

He’s surrounded by Caspian’s things, hearing his name, seeing his pictures.

His brain invented an imaginary protector to help him feel safe at a new school.

It was a standard psychological coping mechanism. It made clinical sense… except it didn’t explain Bad-Mouth Benny.

It didn’t explain the tall, dark silhouette I had seen standing in the master bedroom window the first day we pulled up to the gates, or the way Chalis had started choking on the porch the exact second he disrespected Caspian. It damn sure didn’t explain his car mysteriously going up in smoke right afterward, the mattress dipping beneath weight that wasn’t there, or the unmistakable scent of spiced amber and cedarwood filling my bedroom when there was nobody else inside it.

I checked the rearview mirror.

Kaidence was already humming a cartoon theme song, happily snapping his Batman action figure into a plastic Batmobile, completely unbothered by the fact that he had just told me he’d seen the father nobody had been able to locate in six years.

A cold shiver worked its way down my spine.

What if he really saw him?

The thought landed harder than I wanted it to.

What if Caspian had somehow been closer than I ever realized?

For the first time since moving into the mansion, I didn’t just wonder whether something strange was happening inside that house; I wondered whether somehow, impossibly, if Caspian was part of it.

And if I finally stopped explaining everything away and started looking for real answers, I wasn’t sure whether I was more afraid of finding nothing... or find him.

Chapter fourteen

Caspian

Lakelyn was in my kitchen cooking, and I was standing a few feet behind her wishing like hell I could put my hands on that ass.

It had been six years since I’d been able to walk up behind my woman, wrap my arms around her waist, pull her against my chest, and smack her ass just to hear her fuss at me. Now there she was in front of my stove wearing a fitted shirt and a pair of biker shorts that had no business fitting her that damn good, stirring rice like she wasn’t driving a dead man completely out of his mind.

“Baby, you just don’t know.”

She bent down to grab something from one of the lower cabinets, and my eyes followed before I could even pretend to have some dignity.

I tipped my head toward the ceiling. “Lord, if you give me five solid minutes, I swear I’ll make every damn second count.”

Lakelyn stood again and set a skillet on the stove.

My attention went right back to her.

That ass had gotten thicker too… not that I was complaining. I had always loved every inch of her body but seeing her now made six years without touching her feel even more disrespectful.

Of course, I knew exactly how I’d managed to go that long.

I was fucking dead.

Didn’t make the shit any easier.

She reached for the bowl of salmon she had already seasoned and mixed, then began shaping the patties with her hands.

A smile immediately spread across my face.

Salmon croquettes.