Page 2 of His to Break

But he was too weak to give Eli up.

Too selfish.

Well, wasn't that what everyone had always said about him?

With a sigh, Caleb stood, settling Eli on his hip. He looked out at the market. They needed supplies, but he couldn't shake the feeling of eyes on him. Reality, or just the ghosts of his guilt? He couldn't tell.

Caleb swallowed hard, forcing down the familiar swell of panic. He couldn't run again. Not right then. He didn't have it in him.

"I think it's time for lunch," he said, mussing Eli's hair. "What do you say we get something to eat?"

Eli grinned, all signs of his earlier grumpiness gone. "Pizza! Pizza!" He smacked his hands together, the picture of joy.

Caleb's lips twitched. "We'll see about that."

As much as it pained him to admit it, this boy was his weakness. But Caleb would walk through fire before he'd let anything happen to Eli.

Caleb made his way through the market, Eli chattering happily beside him, his little hand firmly in his own. His eyes continuously scanned the crowd, searching for anything out of place. But for now, the feeling of a threat seemed to have passed.

Caleb peered around the busy marketplace, searching for any sign of danger. His hand kept a secure grip on Eli's as they wove through the crowd, Caleb's gaze scanning over strangers' faces.

It was only a matter of time before the Mirsky mafia family caught up to them. He had to stay alert. Had to keep Eli safe.

Still, an uneasy grayness lingered in his mind as he picked out supplies for their small apartment. Rice, beans, fresh produce. The basics. As much as Eli loved pizza, they couldn't afford luxuries. Not on the run.

Caleb did what he could to make some money here and there.

Or, rather, he didwhohe could. The money in his pocket was hard earned, emphasis on thehard— but he was long used to that.

A flash of movement caught his eye. Across the marketplace, a tall, broad-shouldered man stood, face obscured by a simple black cap. There was nothing remarkable about him. He could have been another simple tourist, out to gawk at the market…

But unlike the rest of the people in the marketplace, he was standing too still. Too intent.

The man's gaze methodically swept the area — and Caleb would bet that he wasn't searching for ingredients for dinner.

Caleb's heart jack-knifed. He gripped Eli's hand, yanking him back. "We're leaving. Now."

The beginnings of a tantrum loomed on Eli's little face. "But…!"

Caleb didn't have time for it. "Now!" He scooped Eli into his arms, trying to move faster without giving anything away and painting a target on his back. He scanned the crowd for an escape.

He looked back over his shoulder — and his chest tightened.

The man was following them. He was walking down the middle of the street, weaving through the crowd, his eyes on them.

Shit.Caleb's pulse pounded in his ears, cold sweat dampening his skin.

He gave up on trying to stay subtle. He ran. Shoving through the crowd, his breaths came in ragged gasps. He ducked into an alley, and sprinted down the narrow passageway.

The other side was just as bustling, but he knew that that alone wouldn't help.

He searched around, desperate—There!With a quick pivot, Caleb ran towards a vendor's stall adorned with an array of hats and scarves. He dug into his pocket and shoved a messy handful of coins at the vendor. There was no time to count. He grabbed two hats.

Eli glanced at him, a curious question in his eyes, but Caleb's quick smile and a wink redirected his attention. He jammed a hat on his own head, and then, with a flourish, placed another on Eli's head. It just barely obscured his curls, but it would have to do.

"Let's play a game," Caleb whispered, his voice conspiratorial as he leaned down to whisper to Eli. "We're spies, and we have to get home without being seen."

Eli's eyes lit up, the game captivating his imagination. "Okay!"

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