Chapter 89 Reckoning
Caleb
I pulled up to the curb and cut the engine. The silence that followed was loud, pressing in on my skull. I sat there for a moment, hands still on the steering wheel, and let out a long, shaky breath—trying to shake off the last hour of panic, fear, and guilt.
It didn’t work.
Elsie’s face flashed in my mind again—wide-eyed, confused, betrayed—as I’d pushed her toward those men. The image burned, fresh and unforgiving. Another mark I’d never scrub clean.
In the back seat, Dante shifted. He was still buckled in, rubbing his eyes with a small fist, lashes heavy with sleep.
“You okay, buddy?” I asked, keeping my voice gentle even though my chest felt tight.
He nodded. “Just tired. Grandpa Diego asked me a lot of questions about my school.”
My jaw clenched at the name, but I swallowed it down. “He’s just an old friend of my dad’s. Nothing to worry about.” I glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “So—school. What did you learn today?”
“We learned about space,” he said, instantly brighter. “Miss Lily said Saturn has rings.”
“It does,” I said, managing a real smile this time. “Beautiful ones.”
This—this—was my world now. Small moments. Safe moments. Bought at a price most people would never understand.
“How’s your class?” I asked. “Everyone being nice to you?”
He fiddled with his seatbelt. “Yeah. Except Mikey. He eats paste.”
I huffed a quiet laugh. “Well, don’t eat paste. Solid life rule.” I leaned back slightly. “Is there anyone you like in your class? Someone you’re happy to see?”
His cheeks pinked instantly. He tucked his chin into his coat.
“…Yeah.”
“Oh?” I grinned. “Who’s the lucky girl?”
He mumbled it. “Cleo.”
“Cleo,” I repeated, savoring the name. “Sounds important. Is she smart?”
“She’s the smartest,” he said seriously. “And she has the best crayons.”
“The best crayons,” I nodded. “That seals it. You’ve got excellent taste, son.”
The moment steadied me. Gave me just enough air to breathe.
“Alright,” I said softly. “Let’s get you inside to Mom.”
I grabbed my keys and opened his door. Dante bolted up the steps like the house itself was calling him. I followed and pushed the front door open without knocking.
I froze.
My hand shot out on instinct, covering Dante’s eyes before his brain could catch up to what mine already had.
Luciana was on the couch—straddling a man young enough to still look guilty. They scrambled apart, limbs tangling, faces twisted in shock.
The man yanked up his joggers and picked up his T-shirt from the floor.
Something feral tore out of my chest.
“GET OUT!”
Luciana clutched a blanket to herself, fury already blazing—but then she saw Dante. Whatever was left of her maternal instinct kicked in. She slid off the couch and rushed forward.
“Baby, go to your room,” she said quickly, voice strained and sweet in a way that made my skin crawl. “Go start your homework, okay?”
She kissed his forehead—hard, rushed. “Mommy needs to talk to Daddy.”
Dante didn’t argue. He ran down the hall, confusion and fear pushing him fast. His door clicked shut.
And that was it.
“Get out,” I snarled at the man. “Now. Get out of my sight.”
He hesitated, looked at Luciana—then at me. His eyes held nothing but contempt. He pulled on his shirt and walked out, coat in hand. The door slammed behind him.
I turned on Luciana.
“So you are now fucking kids too?”
She rolled her eyes, “he is a consenting adult, dummy.”
She was shaking now, blanket clenched to her chest—but her spine was straightening, defiance settling in.
“In this house?” I demanded. “Where he lives? Where he could hear you?” My voice shredded itself. “You pathetic excuse for a mother—”
“Don’t you dare call me that!” she screamed. “This is my house, Caleb! You don’t get to control my life—”
“You have a son!” I cut in. “You don’t do this here. Not where he can see it, smell it, feel it!”
She laughed bitterly. “You think you’re better? Where did you even get him, huh? You’re never here. You disappear for days!”
“You were supposed to pick him up hours ago,” I said, stepping closer, lowering my voice until it was deadly calm. “Do you know where he was? Do you know who had him?”
Her face flickered.
“If anything had happened to him,” I continued, pointing at her, “I would have ended you.”
Her breath hitched.
“I’m done,” I said. “I’m taking him. I’ll fight for sole custody. I’ll use everything—your negligence, this house, this moment—to make sure he never sleeps under this roof again.”
Panic flashed through her fury. “That will never happen! The courts know who you are, Caleb. They know your life. You’re danger incarnate!”
She was right.
And that was when it hit me.
She wasn’t the threat to my son.
I was.
And the war for Dante didn’t start tonight—
It started the moment I realized I might lose him anyway.