Page 5 of His to Break

Ryker frowned, an unfamiliar tension forming in his chest at the sorrow dimming Caleb's eyes. He was only doing his job, he reminded himself. He'd dedicated his life to serving Arkady.

"Move."

As he unlocked the door, Ryker kept his attention on Caleb, ready for any move the other man might make.

He didn't make any. Was this a feint, or did he truly know that he was beaten? Ryker wasn't sure. He didn't know enough about Caleb to read him properly.

There was something about Caleb that Ryker couldn't quite explain. It was more than just his lean body and pretty face — though they certainly played a part.

Caleb's expressive features shifted with each subtle expression, revealing layers of emotion one after another. His eyes, despite their steely, wary gaze, held a depth of vulnerability that drew Ryker in. In those eyes, Ryker saw the reflection of the resilience and determination that had let him do something as ballsy as steal a mafia boss's kid.

Ryker could see why Caleb had won over so many men. There was something captivating about the way Caleb was both vulnerable and resilient.

And that pretty little mouth didn't hurt.

Ryker focused on the task at hand. He was a professional, he told himself, tightening his hold on Caleb. Nothing more.

Caleb tensed under Ryker's grasp, but didn't pull away. His gaze remained fixed ahead as they stepped inside, jaw clenched.

"Relax," he murmured. "I told you I won't hurt the boy."

Caleb scoffed. "Forgive me if I don't believethe mafia thug that's currently kidnapping us."

Ryker smirked. Caleb's defiant spirit intrigued him. Most would cower in fear, but Caleb held his head high, meeting Ryker's gaze with a challenge of his own.

It was a pity that Ryker had been sent to kill him.

Chapter three

Calebcouldfeeltheweight of Ryker's gaze on him like an iron shackle, constricting and heavy. His heart raced with fear and anger, each step inside the house feeling like a betrayal of Eli's mother's final wish.

Mia had asked him to take Eli away from the mafia.

He'd tried.

He'd failed.

"Nice place," Ryker drawled, his voice dripping with cool superiority. Caleb clenched his jaw, hating the way the older man seemed so in control of the situation.

"Didn't ask for your opinion," he muttered, pushing open the door and stepping inside, holding it open for Eli to walk through. He hesitated before letting Ryker in, his gut screaming at him to run from the danger.

But what choice did he have?

As they entered the cozy main room, Caleb felt a deep pang of sorrow wash over him. He'd always known that this was temporary — just one place to lay low for a while before moving on.

But knowing a place wasn't meant to last didn't mean it meant nothing. He'd made a little space in the world for Eli to snatch a few moments of a happy childhood, filling it with everything that the kid wanted to love: pretty shells, interesting rocks, toys, trinkets, drawings...

And now, it was all coming to an end. The injustice of it all burned inside him, a searing reminder of his failures.

"Make yourself at home," Caleb said bitterly, watching as Ryker eyed the space. His muscles tensed, ready to do what he could should the older man make any sudden moves.

There was one. Eli scampered towards Ryker.

Ryker paused. Caleb froze, prepared to defend Eli from harm—

But Eli simply reached up to Ryker, with his favorite toy trucks clutched in his small hands. He held one out to the mafia enforcer, who looked down at the offering with an unreadable expression.

"Nice truck you got there," Ryker rumbled. His fingers brushed against Eli's as he took the toy. Caleb caught his breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

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