Man Up!

"Manhunt" (Part 3)

The world around Caleb felt suffocating. A structure loomed before him, its grids endless, stretching far beyond what his eyes could see. The air was thick and heavy, like molasses, pressing down on his lungs. He was trapped inside, the only exit lost somewhere in the dark.

Then, the voices.

They came suddenly, sharp and chaotic, echoing from a distance. Men yelling, their words tangled in rage. The sound of bodies slamming, fists meeting flesh, something crashing to the floor.

Then, a woman's scream.

Caleb flinched, his body curling inward. His heart pounded wildly against his ribs, a small, helpless beat against the storm of violence unfolding beyond his reach.

Another crash. A blast, like a door being kicked open.

Then, silence.

Caleb's chest ached. He opened his mouth, his voice trembling as he whispered, "Dad…?"

No answer.

His hands clutched at the fabric under him, his fingers white with tension. "Dad!" he cried louder, his voice cracking.

Still, nothing.

Then, a shadow moved.

It started as something small, a flicker at the far end of the corridor. Then it expanded, stretching unnaturally, swallowing the space. The air thickened, the walls narrowed, and the weight of the darkness pulled at him, wrapping around his limbs.

Caleb whimpered, pressing back harder, his body shaking. He shut his eyes tight, willing himself to wake up, to break free from whatever this was.

But the shadow didn't stop.

It loomed over him, blocking out the dim, flickering light, its presence enormous.

He felt someone standing before him, just beyond the veil of darkness.

He reached beyond the grid, his fingers trembling, stretching toward the void.

A profound silence followed before a voice cut through the blackness like a blade. It was deep and familiar, soaked in warmth and reassurance.

"Hey, kiddo."

*

The car rumbled forward, its engine a low growl against the otherwise oppressive silence of the desert. The tires crunched over loose gravel scattered along the edges of the cracked pavement, each sound sharp and distinct in the stillness. 

Caleb sat rigid in the passenger seat, his profile stark against the light streaming through the window. His jaw was clenched tight enough to carve stone, the muscles ticking rhythmically as if holding back words he refused to say. His fingers drummed against his thigh in a restless pattern, faster than he probably realized, betraying an agitation he couldn't entirely suppress. His gaze was fixed on the endless horizon, his green eyes shadowed and distant, like he was far away.  

Ryan glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, his hands gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. He didn't say anything at first. He just watched Caleb for a moment longer than he should have, his brow furrowing with frustration that he tried and failed to keep in check. His lips pressed into a thin line as he exhaled sharply through his nose, turning his attention back to the road ahead.  

It had been hours of this, Caleb shutting him out completely, retreating into himself like a locked door Ryan didn't have the key to. And let's face it, Ryan wasn't the kind of guy who let things fester. He hated silence almost as much as he hated not knowing what was happening inside Caleb's head.  

Finally, he broke. "Okay," Ryan said, his voice cutting through the thick quiet like a blade. "What's the deal?" Caleb didn't flinch or blink or even turn his head. Ryan scoffed under his breath, shaking his head as irritation bubbled up. "Is this about last night?" he pressed, his voice edged with impatience now. Still nothing from Caleb, not even a flicker of acknowledgment. Ryan's fingers raked through his hair as he laughed humorlessly. "Listen," he started again, louder this time, "if it's about the water bottle..."  

"Jesus Christ," Caleb snapped suddenly, whipping around to face him so fast it made Ryan flinch. His voice was sharp, and his eyes, usually calm and steady, were burning with something raw and unfiltered. "You really think I'm that soft?"  

Ryan blinked at him, caught off guard by his tone. "What?"  

"You think I didn't know?" Caleb continued, his words coming fast now, tumbling over each other in a rush of anger. "You think I'm some sheltered idiot?"  

Ryan frowned, confusion flashing across his face as he scrambled to catch up. "I mean... you're not exactly the kind to..."  

"What?" Caleb interrupted harshly. "Party? Get drunk? Do something reckless? What exactly do you think I am?" His laugh was sharp and humorless, cutting through Ryan like a slap. "Just because I don't act like you doesn't mean I don't know how shit works." 

Ryan opened his mouth to respond, to say something, anything, but Caleb wasn't finished yet.  

"I'm so fucking over this," he said, his voice breaking slightly on the word as his hands curled into fists on his lap. "People thinking I'm this weak, fragile thing who can't handle himself. Treating me like I need to be protected or coddled or saved." His breathing was uneven now, each word laced with an anger that had been building for far too long. "Like I can't fucking survive without someone else making decisions for me."  

Ryan stared at him in stunned silence, his chest tightening as Caleb's words sank like stones. He hadn't realized or even considered that this was how Caleb felt. That beneath all those quiet smiles and easygoing shrugs was this knot of resentment and frustration twisting tighter with every passing day.

Caleb turned away abruptly, his gaze snapping back to the window like he couldn't bear to look at Ryan any longer. His voice was quieter but no less charged with emotion when he spoke again. "Everything in this world is so fucking sanitized right now," he muttered bitterly, almost to himself now. "Everything is about keeping people comfortable, ensuring no one ever has to deal with anything real." His jaw tightened again as he shook his head slowly. "I despise it."  

Ryan flexed his fingers over the steering wheel before speaking quietly. "So what do you want, nerd?"  

For a moment, Caleb didn't answer. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his hands clenching and unclenching on his lap like he was trying to wrestle down whatever storm was raging inside him. When he finally spoke, it was barely above a whisper. "I just want to be left the fuck alone."  

Ryan's heart sank at those words, not because they surprised him but because they didn't. Because somewhere deep down, he'd known this was coming all along.

He nodded slowly, forcing himself to focus on the road ahead even as something inside him twisted painfully out of shape. "Okay," he said quietly after a long pause. "If that's what you want."  

The silence between them stretched again after that, thicker and heavier than before, as if those few exchanged words had only deepened the chasm separating them. The road stretched endlessly in both directions, a thin, cracked vein running through an empty wilderness that seemed to swallow everything in its path. 

"Stop the car," Caleb said suddenly.

Ryan frowned at him in surprise but didn't slow down right away. "What?"  

Caleb turned to him sharply this time, his expression unreadable but undeniably intense, and repeated through gritted teeth. "Just stop the fucking car."  

Ryan exhaled sharply, his grip tightening on the steering wheel as irritation coiled through him like a taut wire. But before Ryan could speak, Caleb shoved the passenger door open with such force that it creaked in protest. He stepped out, the car still coming to a stop, his boots hitting the ground with a heavy, resolute thud. Ryan's eyes followed Caleb as he stormed away, his tall, lean frame cutting through the golden haze of dust. His shoulders were hunched, and his fists swung stiffly at his sides. He moved with a purpose that bordered on desperation.

"Shit," Ryan muttered under his breath, dragging a hand down his face. The weight of frustration settled, but it was laced with something else. Guilt. He shoved his door open and climbed out, slamming it shut behind him more forcefully than necessary. "Nerd!" he called out, jogging to close their distance. The dry heat pressed against his skin, making every breath feel heavier. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Caleb didn't respond. His pace didn't falter. His eyes locked straight ahead as if Ryan's voice was only a background noise.

Ryan's irritation flared hotter. "Get back in the car!" His tone was sharper now, edged with impatience. Still nothing. Caleb kept walking, his shoes scuffing against the dirt road with a deliberate rhythm that only fueled Ryan's growing anger. "For fuck's sake," Ryan growled, his voice breaking as he quickened his steps to catch up. "What do you want me to say?"

At those words, Caleb came to an abrupt stop. His back stiffened visibly, and for a moment, all Ryan could hear was the sound of their breaths mingling with the faint rustle of wind through dried grass.

Ryan skidded to a halt a few feet behind him, his chest rising and falling heavily from exertion and frustration. "I don't know how to deal with this either."

Caleb turned suddenly, his green eyes blazing like emerald fire beneath furrowed brows. The intensity in his gaze made Ryan instinctively take half a step back. Before Ryan could react, Caleb closed the distance between them in three furious strides and shoved him hard in the chest. The force sent Ryan stumbling backward until he dug his heels into the ground. But he didn't retaliate. Instead, he stood firm, jaw clenched tight as Caleb grabbed fistfuls of his shirt.

"You don't get it," Caleb spat through gritted teeth, his voice trembling with barely contained emotion. His chest rose and fell erratically as though every word cost him air. "Why is this happening? Why did he leave?" His fingers tightened their grip on Ryan's shirt as if holding onto it was all that kept him grounded. "What did I do wrong? Huh? What the fuck did I do wrong?"

Ryan stayed silent during Caleb's tirade, letting him unload every jagged shard of anger and heartbreak building up inside him for days, maybe even years. He could feel Caleb's hands trembling against his chest now, the strength of his grip faltering as raw emotion overtook rage. Caleb's breath hitched suddenly, and for a fleeting moment, something shifted in his expression. The anger receded just enough to reveal what lay beneath, a deep well of pain and confusion.

Ryan let several beats of silence pass before speaking again. When he did, his voice was softer but no less steady. "Welcome to my world..." He paused, inhaling deeply before continuing. "That's what I've felt my whole life."

For a moment, Caleb froze. His knuckles loosened their grip on Ryan's shirt slightly as those words sank in.

Ryan stepped back cautiously but didn't take his eyes off Caleb's face, how it twisted into something undeniably human. Caleb broke eye contact and turned abruptly on his heel.

"Nerd..." Ryan began hesitantly but stopped himself when he saw the rigid set of Caleb's shoulders as he started walking again. "Goddammit," Ryan muttered as frustration surged like a tidal wave. "You know what? FINE!" he roared before spinning around and stomping back toward the car without another glance at Caleb. Gravel scattered beneath his boots as he yanked the driver's side door open and slid in roughly.

The engine roared to life with a defiant growl as he twisted the key in the ignition. Ryan slammed his foot down on the gas pedal without hesitation or second-guessing. The tires spun before catching traction and propelling the car forward in a cloud of dust that rose like smoke behind him. As he sped past Caleb's figure on the side of the road, something ugly and restless churned within him, anger mixed with an ache too familiar to ignore but too painful to confront fully.

But then, his foot hesitated over the gas pedal.

The anger that had burned so fiercely just moments ago began to crack at its edges like brittle glass under pressure. In its place came something quieter but far more insidious: regret. With a sharp inhale through clenched teeth, Ryan jerked the wheel sharply to one side and punched down on the brakes. The car skidded slightly before abruptly stopping at an awkward angle along the road's edge.

He sat there for several long moments with both hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly that pain shot up through his arms into his shoulders. His chest rose and fell as emotions warred, an internal battle between pride and something more profound. Finally unable to contain it any longer, Ryan let out a sharp growl and slammed his palm against the steering wheel once, twice, then three times until both it and his hand throbbed from impact. With one last exhale that sounded more like a defeated sigh than anything else, he leaned back against the headrest and stared blankly at the car's ceiling.

Then, without looking or saying another word, he reached over to shove open the passenger door wide enough for Caleb to see. "Get in," he said flatly, though there was an edge of something softer, almost pleading, in his voice now.

Caleb had stopped walking. He stood there, his back stiff and rigid. The frustration etched into his face was unmistakable. His jaw was tight, his lips pressed into a thin line, but exhaustion crept in around the edges. His shoulders sagged ever so slightly, and the faint tremble in his stance betrayed how close he was to crumbling under the weight of it all. Caleb glanced toward the car. His breath hitched, and for a moment, he looked like he might turn away again, retreat into the shadows instead of facing what waited inside. But then,  with a slow, reluctant step, he moved toward the vehicle, his hand hovering over the handle, before pulling up and sliding inside. The door shut with a dull thud, muffled but final.  

For a moment, neither of them spoke. 

Then, Caleb exhaled sharply. His face crumpled as though something inside him had finally given way, years of walls cracking under pressure too great to bear anymore. Before he could stop himself, or perhaps because he no longer wanted to, he turned toward Ryan and collapsed against him. His head dropped onto Ryan's chest, and his hands clutched weakly at his shirt as though afraid he might pull away. Ryan stiffened instinctively at first, caught off guard by Caleb's sudden closeness. His entire body went rigid as his mind scrambled to figure out how to react. Caleb's warmth seeped through his shirt, his breath hot and uneven against his collarbone. Ryan's heart thudded painfully in his chest, not from fear but from something far more complicated.

But then, almost without thinking, Ryan's arms moved. They slid around Caleb's trembling frame, hesitant at first but then firmer as if recognizing this was precisely what Caleb needed. One hand settled against Caleb's back while the other found its way to his curls, fingers threading gently through them in a soothing rhythm.

"It's okay..." Ryan said softly, his voice low and steady. "I've got you."  

Caleb shook in his hold, silent sobs wracking his body with an intensity that made Ryan's chest tighten painfully. He didn't cry out loud, but each shudder felt like an earthquake reverberating through them. Ryan tightened his grip slightly, trying to shield Caleb. He let out a slow breath through his nose and leaned forward just enough for his lips to brush against the crown of Caleb's head, not quite a kiss, but more than an accidental touch.

"We should stop," Ryan murmured after a long moment, his voice firm enough to cut through Caleb's quiet sobs. "Find a motel somewhere. Get some rest before we keep going." Caleb didn't answer right away. He stayed where he was, pressed against Ryan as though afraid to move or speak and break whatever fragile peace he'd found in that moment.  

But he didn't pull away either.

Ryan tilted his head slightly to glance down at him, catching sight of tear tracks glistening faintly on Caleb's cheeks. His heart twisted again, not in pity but in understanding. He paused before adding quietly, "You're going to burn yourself out completely if we don't stop."

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Caleb nodded against Ryan's chest. It was small and almost imperceptible if not for how close they were. "Okay," Caleb whispered hoarsely, the first word he'd spoken since getting back into the car, and though it wasn't much, it carried more weight than any long-winded explanation ever could have.

Ryan exhaled slowly, a deep breath that felt like relief mixed with something heavier, and gave Caleb one last gentle squeeze before pulling back just enough to meet his gaze.

"Good," Ryan said firmly before starting the car again.

*

Ryan pulled the car into a spot closest to the motel's entrance, the tires crunching the lot's edges. He turned off the engine, and silence enveloped them save for the distant chirp of crickets. Caleb sat slouched in the passenger seat, his head tilted back, eyes closed, but not asleep. They both looked like shells of themselves, hollowed out by exhaustion.  

Ryan finally broke the stillness with a sharp exhale. He shoved open his door and stepped out into the warm night air. "C'mon," he muttered, though it wasn't clear if he was talking to Caleb or himself.  

Caleb followed reluctantly, dragging his feet as he exited the car. His movements were slow, as if his body might give out if he wasn't careful. He kept his head down, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets.  

The lobby smelled worse than outside, stale coffee that had been sitting in a pot for hours mixed with dust and something faintly sour, like mildew, hiding in unseen corners. The walls were painted in a depressing shade of beige that had once been white but now looked like it had absorbed decades of cigarette smoke and despair. Behind the counter stood a man who looked as worn out as the building itself. His salt-and-pepper beard was uneven and scraggly, curling slightly at the ends where it hung just past his chin. A cigarette dangled from his lips despite the "No Smoking" sign taped crookedly to the wall behind him. He barely glanced up as Ryan approached, his eyes bloodshot and disinterested beneath heavy lids.  

Ryan leaned on the counter, one hand fishing cash out of his pocket while the other tapped impatiently against the surface. "We need a room," he said flatly, his voice devoid of inflection.  

The man grunted in acknowledgment but didn't rush. He took a long drag from his cigarette before speaking, his voice rough. "How long you boys staying?"  

"Just one night," Ryan replied curtly, sliding a few crumpled bills across the counter.  

The man eyed him for a moment before taking the money. His thick, calloused fingers punched numbers into an ancient register that let out a loud ding when it opened. He grabbed a key attached to a faded plastic tag and slid it across to Ryan without bothering to count the cash.  

"Room's around the back," he said, jerking his chin toward the side exit. "Number eight." His gaze shifted briefly to Caleb, who stood behind Ryan with his shoulders hunched and his hands buried in his pockets. "You two been on the road long?"  

Ryan's jaw tightened as he grabbed the key off the counter without answering immediately. Finally, he muttered, "Something like that," not looking at either Caleb or the man as he turned toward the door.  

The man let out a knowing grunt that carried indifference and subtle insinuation, but Ryan didn't give him time to say anything else. He pushed open the door leading back outside, Caleb trailing behind him like a shadow. They walked in silence around to Room 8. The door to their room was scuffed and dented near the bottom, where someone had likely kicked it more than once in frustration, anger, or both. Ryan jiggled the key in the lock until it finally gave way with an audible click.  

The room inside was even more depressing than expected, but neither had high hopes. A single queen bed dominated most of the space, covered by an old floral bedspread whose colors had faded into dull shades of brown and green over years of wear and neglect. A small TV bolted to one corner of the wall.  

In one corner of the room sat an armchair upholstered in fabric that might have once been blue but was now grayish-brown with patches worn thin enough to reveal stuffing underneath and one prominent cigarette burn right in its center cushion like a badge of dishonor. The air conditioning unit rattled noisily from its perch beneath a grime-covered window that offered no view worth looking at.  

Caleb exhaled as though just being in this room made him more tired than he already was. He rubbed a hand over his face before pulling it away to speak quietly: "I'm gonna take a shower."  

Ryan absently nodded while tugging off his shoes and letting them drop haphazardly onto the floor beside the bed. "Yeah," he said without looking up from where he sat on the edge of the mattress, now sagging under his weight.  

Caleb disappeared into the bathroom, shutting the door with a quiet click. Ryan's eyes lingered on the closed door for a moment, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths as he tried to steady himself. He exhaled slowly through his nose, tugging his shirt over his head and wincing as the motion pulled at his bruised ribs. The fight at the club earlier had left its mark. Bruises blossomed along his side, a dull ache spreading with each movement. He tossed the shirt onto the chair in the corner, landing in an unceremonious heap. He sat heavily on the edge of the bed, but not before grabbing the remote from the nightstand as if it could distract him.  

Click. Static. Click. More static.  

Ryan flipped through channels aimlessly, his thumb pressing the button with just enough force to match his growing frustration. Finally, he stopped on some soccer game halfway through, the players darting across the screen like restless shadows under a flood of artificial light. But his focus wasn't there even as he stared at the screen.  

He wasn't really watching.  

His gaze drifted upward to the cracked ceiling of the motel room, where faint water stains spread like ghostly maps of forgotten places. He listened to the muffled sound of water rushing from the shower, filling the small space with a faint, rhythmic hum that drowned out everything else.  

And yet, his mind was anything but quiet.  

Ryan rubbed a hand over his face, dragging it down to his jaw where stubble scratched against his palm. His fingers flexed restlessly on the edge of the bed as though trying to ground himself in something real, something solid when all he felt was uncertainty clawing at him from every angle.  

Then, the water stopped abruptly, leaving a sudden stillness that quickened Ryan's pulse. His fingers twitched against the coarse blanket beneath him. He straightened slightly but didn't move from where he sat, forcing himself to appear calm even as anticipation coiled in his chest like a spring. A few moments passed before the bathroom door creaked open. Steam billowed into the room like smoke from a fire, curling around Caleb as he stepped into view.  

Ryan's breath hitched. Caleb stood with a towel slung low around his hips, water droplets clinging to his skin like scattered stars. His damp curls clung to his forehead in disarray, framing his angular face with an almost careless allure.  

Ryan couldn't look away if he tried.  

There was something so unguarded about Caleb at this moment, stripped bare not just physically but emotionally too, that it left Ryan rooted to the spot, unable to breathe properly, let alone think straight. His throat tightened as emotions surged, uncontrolled and overwhelming. Desire that had simmered quietly for so long it felt like second nature now. Protectiveness that bordered on instinct. And something else. Something that scared him because it was so much bigger than anything he'd let himself feel before. It hit him like a slow-moving wave crashing against an unyielding shore. 

This wasn't just wanting Caleb anymore.  

This was love.

The kind that hollowed you out and filled you up all at once, that made your chest ache with its sheer magnitude because it demanded more than you ever thought you could give but made you willing to try anyway.  

Caleb's green eyes flickered toward Ryan, softer than usual. A quiet vulnerability hidden beneath layers of guardedness that Ryan had spent years learning to see past.  

"Hey," Caleb said quietly, breaking through Ryan's thoughts like a whisper cutting through silence. 

"Hey," Ryan managed to reply after a beat too long, his voice hoarse and barely audible. He swallowed hard, trying and failing to keep his gaze fixed anywhere but on Caleb's bare skin glowing under muted light like some beacon calling out to him relentlessly.

Caleb walked closer then, slowly at first but with purpose, as if testing boundaries neither dared to acknowledge aloud yet couldn't deny existed. Ryan slid forward instinctively until he perched precariously at the edge of the bed again, his hands resting nervously on his knees. At the same time, every muscle in his body tensed under Caleb's steadily approaching presence. When Caleb stopped directly in front of him, close enough for Ryan to feel the warmth radiating off him, it took everything Ryan had not to lose himself entirely right there.

"Are you okay?" Caleb asked softly and genuinely, noticing how tightly Ryan gripped his thighs like anchors. Ryan hesitated, nodding faintly and finally allowing his hands to land on Caleb.

His touch was reverent.  

Gentle.  

Ryan's fingertips brushed Caleb's skin like he was handling something sacred. There was no urgency in his movements, only quiet patience as if he had all the time in the world to map out every inch of him. His fingers traced the curve of Caleb's hips briefly before moving upward. Caleb's breathing hitched, his chest rising slightly as Ryan's hand traveled upward, slow and willful. Ryan's thumb ghosted across Caleb's ribs, lingering where his breath rose and fell before sliding higher.  

Caleb didn't stop him.  

He couldn't have if he wanted to. His body felt caught in a delicate balance between surrender and restraint as if one wrong move could shatter whatever was tethering them together. He just watched, his lips parting slightly, the faintest tremor running through him. His hands remained at his sides, palms open. Ryan glanced up briefly, searching Caleb's face for any sign of hesitation or doubt. He found none. Only wide eyes watching him intently, a faint flush creeping up Caleb's neck and spreading across his cheeks. Encouraged by what he saw, Ryan let his hand travel higher still.  

His palm rested gently against Caleb's shoulder before sliding to his throat. There it lingered, feeling the steady thrum of Caleb's pulse beneath his fingertips. Caleb swallowed hard, the movement causing Ryan's hand to shift slightly against his skin. Ryan's fingers brushed along Caleb's jawline next, tracing its sharp angles with a care that felt almost reverential. Caleb exhaled slowly. His hands twitched at his sides before tentatively moving until they found Ryan's wrists. He didn't push Ryan back immediately. Instead, he held him there just a second longer, letting the weight of Ryan's touch sink into him fully before acting on instinct.

Then, Caleb pushed.

It wasn't rough or aggressive. It wasn't angry or desperate. It was confident and purposeful, a natural power shift that felt inevitable. Ryan fell back against the mattress with a soft thud, his breath catching in surprise as Caleb followed him without hesitation.

"Nerd…" Ryan started, his voice low and unsteady, but whatever he meant to say got lost somewhere between his lips, and the space now occupied by Caleb leaning over him.

"Shh," Caleb murmured as he settled above Ryan with quiet authority. His knees planted firmly on either side of Ryan's hips, caging him in but not suffocating him, never that. Instead, there was a tenderness in how Caleb moved, a deliberate slowness that ensured nothing felt rushed or uncertain.

Ryan's hands found their way back to Caleb's waist almost instinctively. This time, though, his grip was firmer, not demanding but anchoring. Caleb leaned down so close that his curls tickled Ryan's forehead and cheeks as they fell forward in soft waves. His breath was warm against Ryan's lips, carrying traces of mint and something sweet. Their noses brushed, just barely, before Caleb paused again. It seemed like time had stopped. All that existed was this infinitesimal space between them where everything hung suspended: every word unsaid, every feeling unspoken, every moment leading up to this one.

"Say something," Ryan breathed when the silence became unbearable.

"I've said enough," Caleb replied quietly, his voice steady despite the storm raging behind his eyes.

And then, he kissed him.

It wasn't tentative or hesitant like their earlier touches had been. But it wasn't rough or hurried either. It was slow, like pouring honey onto an open wound: soothing and healing all at once while leaving behind an ache that begged for more. Caleb kissed Ryan like he'd been holding this back for far too long like every suppressed thought and stolen glance over the past months had culminated into this singular moment where restraint no longer mattered. It wasn't just about lust or desire anymore. 

Ryan melted under him completely, and then the tension in his body gave way as his hands slid up Caleb's back without hesitation. His fingers tangled in soft curls while pulling Caleb closer until there was no space between them. The mattress creaked under their combined weight as they shifted, rolling until Ryan was on top. He moved slowly yet purposefully, his eyes never leaving Caleb's as if afraid that this was all just a dream if he blinked too hard or closed his eyes for even a second.

Caleb met every movement with equal intention, matching Ryan's eagerness while guiding him into something new.

Their mouths moved together almost frantically now, tongues dancing against teeth and lips in a familiar and foreign rhythm. Ryan's heart raced in his chest, and his breathing grew ragged against Caleb's shoulder as they explored each other with a passion that belied their earlier nervousness. The sheets below them twisted and turned with their movement, making it feel like they were the only two people in the world at that exact moment.

"Nerd…I…" Ryan muttered, his face buried inside Caleb's soft shoulder.

"It's okay…I want to," Caleb moaned, voicing his willful consent. 

Ryan sank to his knees like a man possessed, the carpet cushioning his descent as his greedy fingers clawed at the towel wrapped around Caleb's waist. The fabric fell away with a whisper, revealing Caleb's cock, thick, uncut, and already half-hard, the tip glistening with a bead of precum that made Ryan's mouth water. He didn't hesitate, his lips parting as he leaned forward, his tongue flicking out to taste the salty-sweet drop before he wrapped his lips around the head.

Ryan's mouth was a furnace, warm and wet as he took Caleb deeper, his tongue swirling around the swollen crown before sliding down the shaft. His hands gripped Caleb's hips, pulling him closer, forcing more of that hard, pulsating cock into his throat. He gagged slightly, the sensation only making him hungrier, his eyes fluttering shut as he focused on the weight of Caleb's dick on his tongue, the way it filled every inch of his mouth.

Caleb's breath hitched, his hands tangling in Ryan's hair. Ryan moaned around him, vibrations sending shivers up Caleb's spine, his hips jerking uncontrollably as he lost himself in the heat of Ryan's mouth. Ryan's lips were slick with spit, a thin trail of it dripping down his chin as he bobbed his head, his throat opening up to take every inch.

"Fuck, Ryan," Caleb growled, his voice rough with need.

Ryan didn't answer, couldn't, with his mouth full, but the way he sucked harder, his tongue working furiously along the underside of Caleb's dick, was all the confirmation the tall beauty needed. Ryan's fingers dug into Caleb's thighs, leaving crescent-shaped marks as he took him deeper, his nose pressing into the curls at the base of Caleb's cock.

Caleb's hips snapped forward, fucking Ryan's face with abandon, the sounds of wet slaps and choked moans filling the room. Ryan's eyes watered, tears streaking down his cheeks, but he didn't pull away. He wanted this, needed this, the taste of Caleb's precum on his tongue, the stretch of his lips around that beautiful, perfect cock.

"You like that?" Caleb snarled, his grip on Ryan's hair tightening as he drove his cock deeper.

Ryan nodded frantically, his throat convulsing around Caleb's length, his hands squeezing Caleb's ass to pull him even closer. Caleb's balls slapped against Ryan's chin, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through both of them. Ryan's own cock was straining against his jeans, leaking a wet spot into the fabric.

Caleb's thrusts became erratic, his breathing ragged as he approached the edge. "I'm gonna cum," he gasped, his voice tight with impending release. "Swallow it..."

Ryan moaned in agreement, his throat opening up to take Caleb's final thrusts. Caleb moaned, his hips jerking as he came, thick ropes of cum spilling into Ryan's waiting mouth. Ryan swallowed eagerly, his tongue lapping at the head to catch every last drop, his moans muffled by Caleb's still-hard cock.

When Caleb finally pulled out, Ryan was a mess, his lips swollen, his face flushed, his chin slick with spit and cum. He looked up at Caleb with hooded eyes, a lazy smile spreading across his face as he licked his lips. "Fuck," he rasped, his voice rough. "You taste so fucking good."  

Caleb's chuckle rumbled in his throat. His fingers tangled in Ryan's tousled, sweaty hair, gripping tightly as he yanked his head back, exposing the sensitive column of his throat. Caleb's lips ghosted over the pulse point, teasing with the promise of teeth before he shoved Ryan's body roughly onto the bed. The mattress groaned under their combined weight as Caleb climbed over him, his muscular frame pinning Ryan down with a predatory ease. His hands slid down Ryan's chest before he hooked his fingers into the waistband of Ryan's pants and yanked them down in one swift, merciless motion.

"My turn," Caleb uttered.

Ryan's cock sprang free, thick and hungry, already leaking a pearl of precum that glistened obscenely. Caleb's eyes brightened as he took in the sight, his tongue darting to wet his lips. He leaned in, his nose brushing against the base of Ryan's shaft, inhaling deeply as if savoring the musky, unwashed scent. Ryan's voice wavered, a hint of self-consciousness creeping in. "I... haven't showered," he muttered, his cheeks flushing.

But Caleb didn't care. 

His lips curled into a wicked grin as he looked up, his emerald eyes blazing with something dangerous and possessive. "Good," he purred.

And then Caleb's mouth was on him, hot and wet, swallowing Ryan's cock down to the hilt in one slick, greedy motion. Ryan's back arched off the bed, a strangled moan ripping from his throat as Caleb's tongue swirled around the head, teasing the sensitive slit before plunging back down. Caleb's hands gripped Ryan's hips, fingers digging into the flesh as he began to bob his head, taking Ryan deeper and deeper with each desperate jab.

The room was filled with the sounds of Caleb's sucking, his lips stretched tight around Ryan's girth, spit dripping down his chin. Ryan's hands fisted in the sheets, his hips jerking uncontrollably as Caleb's tongue lashed at the underside of his cock, driving him closer and closer to the edge. Caleb pulled back just enough to look up at him, his lips slick and swollen, his eyes glazed with a feral hunger. "So tasty," he growled, his voice viscous with lust. "I could do this all night."

And then he dove back down, his throat working around Ryan's cock as he took him deeper than ever before, his nose buried in the dark, wiry curls at the base. Ryan's legs trembled, his breath coming in ragged gasps as Caleb swallowed him whole, his cock pulsing with every wet, sloppy stroke. Caleb's fingers dug into Ryan's ass, spreading him open as he fucked Ryan's cock with his mouth, the wet sounds echoing through the room like a filthy luscious symphony.

Ryan was losing it, his body writhing beneath Caleb's relentless assault. "Caleb...fuck... I'm gonna..." he choked out, but Caleb didn't stop. He just sucked harder, his tongue working in sinful circles around the head as Ryan's cock twitched and throbbed in his mouth. 

And then Ryan was coming, his release shooting down Caleb's throat in thick, hot spurts. Caleb swallowed every drop, his lips sealed tight around Ryan's shaft as he milked him dry, his tongue lapping up every last bit of cum until Ryan was shuddering and whimpering, utterly spent.

"Fucking hell!" Ryan gasped, his voice thick with unbridled ecstasy, his chest heaving like he'd just run a marathon with a cock stuffed down his throat. His hands raked over his flushed face, his fingers trembling as if he couldn't believe the raw, filthy bliss he'd just been handed. "That was... fuckin' unreal," he muttered, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that sent shivers through the room. His blue eyes, wild and glazed, flickered with satisfaction.

But Caleb wasn't done. 
Not even close. 

While Ryan was still basking in the afterglow of his release, Caleb was already moving, his lithe body sliding onto the bed with the grace of a predator stalking its prey. He straddled Ryan's hips, his thighs framing Ryan's muscular torso, his own dick still rock-hard and glistening with Ryan's spit. Ryan's hands fell away from his face, his eyes locking onto Caleb's cock first, impossibly erect, before trailing up to meet his gaze.

"You're still fucking hard," Ryan breathed, his voice tinged with awe and a touch of disbelief. He couldn't help it. His own cock twitched in response, still slick and throbbing from his earlier explosion.

Caleb smirked. A devilish, knowing grin Ryan was pleasantly surprised to see. He brought his hand to his mouth, spitting a glob of Ryan's own cum into his palm. Watching Caleb work Ryan's release into his own hand sent a fresh wave of heat crashing through Ryan's gut. "So are you," Caleb replied with a grin.

Caleb's hand slid lower, his fingers teasing his own tight hole, spreading Ryan's cum as he worked himself open. The wet, lewd sound of his fingers plunging into his ass was obscene, and Ryan couldn't tear his eyes away. "Fuck," Ryan groaned, his cock jumping as Caleb moaned, his head tipping back, exposing the long, pale column of his neck.

"You ready for round two?" Caleb whispered, his voice a sinful promise. He didn't wait for an answer. His hand wrapped around Ryan's dick, guiding it to his entrance. Ryan hissed as the head of his cock pressed against Caleb's slick hole, the tight muscle resisting for just a moment before giving way. Caleb sank down slowly, inch by inch, his body swallowing Ryan's length like it was made for it.

"Jesus Christ," Ryan growled, his hips bucking upward as Caleb took him all the way in. The heat, the pressure, it was fucking electric. Caleb's ass clenched around him, milking him like he was trying to wring every last drop of pleasure from Ryan's body.

Caleb rocked his hips, grinding down on Ryan's cock in slow, deliberate movements. His hands braced against Ryan's chest, fingers digging into the firm muscle as he rode him with a rhythm that was pure torture. Every thrust sent sparks of pleasure shooting through Ryan's pelvis, but it was the look on Caleb's face that nearly did him in, eyes half-lidded, lips parted in a silent moan, his body arching as he chased his own pleasure.

Ryan's hands gripped Caleb's hips, guiding and urging him to move faster. "Fuck, nerd," he groaned, his voice rough and desperate. "You feel so goddamn good."

Caleb heeded, picking up the pace until the room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, wet and filthy and perfect. His cock bobbed between them, leaking precum with every thrust, and Ryan couldn't resist reaching down to stroke him in time with their rhythm. Caleb let out a low, guttural moan, his body trembling as he teetered on the edge.

"Ryan," he gasped, his voice breaking as he came, his release painting both their chests in hot, sticky streaks. The clench of Caleb's ass around Ryan's cock was too much to take. With a roar, Ryan buried himself deep, emptying himself inside Caleb in a wave of raw, untamed ecstasy.

They collapsed together, chests heaving, bodies slick with sweat and cum. Caleb slumped against Ryan's chest, their breaths fraternizing as they both came down from the high. "Fuck," Ryan whispered again, his hands roaming over Caleb's back in lazy strokes. "You're gonna kill me."

Caleb chuckled, the sound low and sated. "Not yet," he murmured, nuzzling into Ryan's neck.

*

Hours had melted away, but Ryan and Caleb were still at it, locked in a primal dance that would've made the gods themselves blush. Their bodies glistened, every muscle taut, every vein pulsing with need.

Caleb lay sprawled on his stomach, his smooth, toned back arched like a cat in heat. His ass, round and perfect, was high in the air, begging for more as Ryan loomed over him, his cock buried to the hilt in Caleb's tight, greedy hole. Ryan's hips were a fucking machine, slamming forward with a ferocity that made the bedframe creak. Each thrust was deep and deliberate, making Caleb's toes curl, and his breath hitch in his throat.

"Fuck, Ryan," Caleb gasped, his voice a broken moan, muffled by the pillow his face was buried in. His fingers clawed at the sheets, knuckles white as Ryan's relentless pace drove him wild. "Don't stop... don't fucking stop."

Ryan's breath was hot against Caleb's ear, his lips brushing over the sensitive skin as he growled, "You like that? You like that cock deep in you, nerd?" His words were rough, dripping with lust as his hips snapped forward again, driving himself deeper into Caleb's tight warmth.

Caleb whimpered, his body trembling as Ryan's thick shaft stretched him wide, the pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. But pain wasn't the right word. It was more like euphoria, a delicious burn that lit up every nerve in his body. "Yes...yes, I fucking love it," he panted, his voice cracking as Ryan's cock hit that spot inside him that made his vision blur. "Your cock feels so fucking good."

Ryan's hands moved to Caleb's waist, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pulled him back. The sound of skin pounding skin was obscene now. Sweat dripped down Ryan's chest, his abs flexing with every movement as he pounded into Caleb with a desperation that bordered on feral. He was lost in it, lost in the heat of Caleb's body, the way he clenched around him like a vice, the way his moans filled the air like a siren's song.

Caleb really was a temple. 
Something to be worshipped.

"You're finally mine..." Ryan growled, his voice low and possessive, as he leaned down to nip at Caleb's shoulder. "All mine."

Caleb shivered at the words, his cock leaking against the sheets beneath him so hard it ached. He wanted to touch himself, to stroke his throbbing length until he came all over the bed, but Ryan's grip on his hips was too tight, his pace too unrelenting. All he could do was take it, take every inch of Ryan's cock as it pistoned in and out of him, stretching him open, filling him up.

"Please," Caleb begged, his voice a broken whimper as Ryan's thrusts grew harder, faster. "I need...I need to..."

"You need to come?" Ryan finished for him, his voice rough and teasing. 

"Yes," Caleb moaned, his body shaking with the force of his pleasure.

Ryan didn't stop. If anything, he fucked Caleb harder, his cock slamming into him with a force that had Caleb crying out. "Okay...come for me," Ryan demanded, his voice a low growl.

It didn't take long after that. Caleb's body tightened around Ryan's cock, his ass clenching as his orgasm ripped through him. He came hard, his cock pulsing as he spilled all over the sheets beneath him, his moans loud and unrestrained. Ryan wasn't far behind. With an almost animalistic groan, he buried himself deep inside Caleb one last time, his hips jerking as he came, his cock pumping his release. The feeling of Ryan filling him up was enough to make Caleb whimper again, his body still trembling with aftershocks.

They stayed like that for a moment. Ryan pressed flush against Caleb's back, their bodies still connected as they caught their breath. Finally, Ryan pulled out slowly, his cock slick with cum. Caleb groaned at the loss, his hole clenching around nothing as he rolled onto his back. Ryan collapsed beside him, his chest heaving as he reached out to pull Caleb close. 

Their fingers intertwined again. 

*

Ryan's cock, still buried deep inside Caleb's trembling, well-fucked hole, pulsed with every shallow thrust. Caleb's legs were splayed wide, his calves hooked over Ryan's broad shoulders, his thighs trembling with the effort of holding himself open for the relentless invasion. Ryan's hands, rough and possessive, gripped Caleb's hips as he pushed in deeper, harder, forcing a low moan from Caleb's parted lips.

Caleb's cock, flushed and dripping, bounced against his stomach with every movement, precum smearing across his taut abdomen. Ryan leaned down, his breath hot and ragged against Caleb's neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin as he whispered filthy promises into his ear. "You take me so good, nerd," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "So fucking tight. I could fuck this hole forever."

Caleb's hands clawed at Ryan's back, leaving angry red marks as he tried to pull him closer, deeper. "Fuck me," he begged, his voice broken and desperate. "Harder. Don't stop."

Ryan obliged, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigor. The sharp slap of skin on skin merged with their guttural moans and the wet, squelching sounds of Ryan's cock plunging in and out of Caleb's slicked-up hole. Caleb's ass was red and raw, the skin stretched and abused from the relentless pounding. Ryan's balls slapped against Caleb's ass cheeks with every thrust, the heavy sac swollen with the need to release.

Caleb's body was on fire, every nerve ending alight with pleasure-pain as Ryan hit his prostate over and over again. The spot screamed for attention, and Ryan was more than willing to oblige. He angled his hips just so, driving into Caleb's most sensitive place with pinpoint accuracy. Caleb's back arched off the bed, a strangled cry tearing from his throat as stars exploded behind his closed eyelids.

Ryan's pace was relentless, his thick cock pistoning in and out of Caleb's stretched hole with a rhythm that was almost brutal in its intensity. Enough to rival Nate's stamina. Caleb could feel every inch of Ryan's length as it filled him, stretching him wide open, claiming him in the most primal way possible. Ryan's hands moved to Caleb's chest, rough fingers pinching and twisting his nipples until Caleb was crying out, his cock leaking a steady stream onto his stomach.

"Fuuuuuck," Ryan growled, his voice low and dangerous. "Caleb..."

Caleb could only nod, his mind consumed by the overwhelming pleasure. Ryan's cock was a fucking chef-d'oeuvre. Caleb's hole clenched around him, desperate to milk every drop. Ryan's pace quickened, his thrusts becoming erratic as he felt his orgasm building. He reached between them, wrapping his hand around Caleb's leaking cock and stroking him in time with his thrusts. Caleb's breath hitched, his whole body tightening as he was pushed closer and closer to the edge.

"Come for me," Ryan commanded, his voice rough with need.

Caleb couldn't hold back any longer. With a guttural cry, he came, hot ropes of cum shooting across his chest and stomach. His ass clenched around Ryan's cock, milking it as Ryan let out a primal outcry, his own release flooding Caleb's ass with thick, sticky batter.

They collapsed again, their bodies still connected, their breathing ragged and labored. Ryan's cock slowly softened inside Caleb's hole. 

"Don't... don't take it out," Caleb's voice begged.

Ryan turned his face away. Concealing the smile that took hold of it.

It was the most beautiful thing anyone had ever said to him.

*

Ryan lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, his blue eyes lost in thought. His fingers absentmindedly traced the ridges of Caleb's spine, but he wouldn't meet his gaze. Resting on his side, Caleb propped himself up on one elbow and studied him. He could feel it. Ryan was running again. Even here, even now, after everything, he was still trying to slip away.  

"Don't do that," Caleb murmured.  

Ryan tensed slightly, his fingers stilling. "Do what?"  

Caleb reached out, gently tilting Ryan's chin, forcing him to look at him. "This." His green eyes softened. "Hiding."  

Ryan's throat bobbed, his mask slipping. "I'm not hiding."  

Caleb smirked. "Liar."  

Ryan exhaled sharply, closing his eyes. He shook his head like he was trying to shake something loose, holding back the words clawing at his throat. Caleb's arm came up, and he pulled Ryan into him, forcing their bodies to lay on their sides, facing each other. His leg swung over Ryan's hips, enveloping him into a crown of light. 

His light.

"Say it," Caleb prayed.

Ryan inhaled deeply, his jaw tightening, his entire body bracing as if the words were physically painful. "I...I love you." His voice was barely above a whisper. Caleb's breath caught. Ryan opened his eyes, and for the first time, they were utterly unguarded, raw, vulnerable, desperate. "I love you, Caleb." His voice cracked.

Caleb nodded. "I know."  

Ryan let out a shaky breath, his fingers curling into the sheets. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I never meant to..." His voice faltered, thick with guilt. "But I always end up hurting people. It's like...I can't help it."  

Caleb reached out, brushing his hand over Ryan's cheek, tracing his jawline with his thumb. "That's not true." Caleb smiled softly. "Because...if it were true, you wouldn't be here right now." Ryan's breath stilled. Caleb's fingers brushed over his lips. "I'm sorry, too."  

Ryan's brows furrowed. "For what?"  

"For shutting you out. For making you feel like you didn't belong. For pretending like I didn't like you. That I didn't see you."  

Ryan's chest ached. "You saw me?"  

Caleb's eyes glistened. "I always saw you."  

The weight was too much, and Ryan closed the remaining space between them, pressing his lips against Caleb's. It wasn't rushed or frantic. It was slow, deliberate, like a promise. They kissed until breathing became difficult, and everything else faded away.  

But then, Caleb felt it.  
Ryan pulling back.  

He frowned, searching Ryan's face. "What's wrong?"   

Ryan hesitated, his body stiff. "I'm scared."  

"Of what?" Caleb questioned softly.  

Ryan swallowed hard. "Of what'll happen when we find him." Ryan's lips parted, but it took a second for the words to come. "I mean…what if..." He let out a shaky breath, eyes darting away. "What if you don't need me anymore?" Ryan clenched his jaw. "What if once we find him, you just…"  

Caleb's heart twisted. He reached for Ryan, pulling him into an embrace and holding him like he was something precious. Something that mattered. "Listen to me," Caleb whispered, his lips brushing against Ryan's temple. "You will never be alone again." Ryan closed his eyes, fingers gripping Caleb's back like he was afraid to let go. Caleb pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, his voice steady, unwavering. "You know why?" Ryan inhaled sharply. "Because...I love you too." Just then, tears streamed down Ryan's skin, trailing over his cheeks. "And I'm not going anywhere." Caleb cupped his face, pressing their foreheads together. "I promise."  

And at that moment, from under Ryan's despair, hope finally emerged. And he smiled. Genuinely smiled.  

Because, for the first time in his life, Ryan believed it.

*

The sheets lay tangled around their bare legs, a disheveled mess that mirrored the chaos neither of them could quite put into words. 

They had fucked for the seventh time. 

Ryan sprawled on his back, one arm draped lazily over his forehead, his chest moving steadily. His other hand rested loosely on his stomach, his fingers occasionally twitching as if reaching for something he couldn't quite grasp. Caleb lay beside him, his body angled slightly toward Ryan as though drawn by some invisible force. His fingers traced absentminded patterns against Ryan's skin, circles, lines, shapes without meaning, his touch light but grounding. 

There was no rush to move, no urgency to break this fragile moment of stillness. This kind of peace was rare, and they both knew it wouldn't last long.

They had fucked away everything, every wall carefully constructed over years of survival and every pretense they wore like armor to navigate a world that never seemed safe. In this fleeting moment, there were no lies between them in this room. No masks. Just two young men clinging to each other in a tempest they couldn't yet see but could feel brewing on the horizon.

Ryan exhaled slowly, tilting his head just enough to catch Caleb's profile. His voice broke the silence, low and rough. "So...what now?"

Caleb didn't answer immediately. His gaze remained fixed on the ceiling as though he might find answers hidden in its cracked plaster. Finally, after what felt like an eternity but was probably only seconds, Caleb spoke, his voice quiet but steady. "Dad."

Just the name was enough to shift the atmosphere in the room. Ryan's jaw tightened imperceptibly, his expression darkening as he rolled onto his side to face Caleb more fully. Propping his head up with one hand, he studied Caleb's face carefully, searching for something.

"What about him?" Ryan asked finally, his tone sharper than he intended.

Caleb hesitated again, his lips pressing into a thin line before he forced himself to speak. "Do you think Jenna had something to do with him disappearing?"

Ryan spat a bitter scoff, running a hand through his messy hair. The movement was quick and frustrated as if he was trying to shake loose thoughts that were too heavy to hold onto. "Wouldn't put it past her," he said flatly. "She's always been good at looking out for herself." He paused, his gaze flickering toward Caleb as if gauging his reaction before continuing. "If Nate was in trouble… she'd do whatever it took to stay clean."

Caleb frowned deeply at that, worry etching lines across his face that made him look older than he was. "But what kind of trouble?" he pressed softly.

Ryan didn't answer right away. Instead, his fingers drifted absently along Caleb's shoulder, tracing patterns similar to those Caleb had drawn on his skin earlier, as though touch could anchor them both in a conversation neither wanted to have but knew they needed to.

"We know someone's after him," Ryan said, his voice quieter now but no less certain. "When we asked about him at the company…you saw how those guys looked at us. And those suits…they weren't just regular cops."

Caleb's brows furrowed in thought as he turned onto his side to face Ryan more directly. "You think they were feds?" he asked cautiously.

Ryan shook his head again, more firmly this time. "Nah," he said with conviction. "Feds don't show up like that, skulking around in shadows and making people nervous just by being there." He paused again, adding grimly, "And they sure as hell don't let people like Nate slip through their fingers unless he's got something big on them."

Caleb swallowed hard, his throat bobbing visibly as he processed what Ryan was saying or maybe what Ryan wasn't saying outright. "Then who?" he asked finally.

Ryan sighed deeply, rolling onto his back again and staring at the ceiling. "Could be a mob," he admitted reluctantly after a long pause. "Could be something worse." His voice dropped lower, almost a whisper, when he added, "But one thing's for sure. Nate's running from something."

Caleb also turned on his back. His voice softened as memories bubbled up unbidden from some deep part of him he'd kept locked away for years. "We moved a lot when I was a kid," he began quietly. Ryan shifted slightly beside him but didn't interrupt. He waited. "Every couple of years," Caleb continued after hesitating. "It was somewhere new...a new town, a new school." He let out a soft laugh devoid of humor. "I never questioned it back then. I just thought…I don't know." He shrugged lightly against the mattress beneath him and softly said, "Maybe Dad just got bored easily. Maybe he just liked to keep moving." There was another pause before Caleb added almost as an afterthought, but not really. "But then there was this guy."

Ryan sat up slightly at that, turning toward Caleb with renewed focus. "His friend?" he asked intently.

Caleb frowned thoughtfully as if trying to pull details from memories long buried under years of neglect. "Yeah...or at least I think he was." His brow furrowed deeper as more pieces began clicking into place in his mind. "He'd show up every time we moved," Caleb explained slowly now as though piecing together a puzzle for himself as much as for Ryan. "Never stayed long. Just enough for us to settle in."

"What was he like?" Ryan prompted gently when Caleb fell silent again.

"Quiet," Caleb answered almost immediately as if that single word had always been etched into his memory despite everything else being blurry around it. He paused again before adding softly but with certainty. "He wasn't warm…but Dad trusted him."

Ryan's voice broke the stillness, low and probing. "So you think this guy had something to do with why you kept moving?"  

Caleb sat on the edge of the bed, his hands loosely clasped between his knees. He didn't answer right away. His head was bowed slightly, his curls falling forward as if to shield his face while his mind worked through the question. It wasn't just Ryan's words he was turning over. It was everything they implied. Elusive things stirred in the back of his mind, little flashes of memories. 

He hadn't questioned it then, not really. But now, as Ryan watched him closely, Caleb's silence spoke volumes. His voice, when it finally came, was quiet, almost distant. "I don't know," he admitted, though even as he said it, he felt tiny pieces clicking together in ways that made him uneasy.

Ryan leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees, his sharp blue eyes locked on Caleb's face. "Did Nate ever talk to you about it? Ever say why?" His tone was steady, but there was an undercurrent of frustration there like he'd asked this question a hundred times before and never gotten a straight answer.

Caleb lifted his head just enough for their gazes to meet. His green eyes' faint flicker of uncertainty mirrored Ryan's doubts. "Nah," he said finally, his voice firmer now but no less troubled. "If I asked, he'd just say it was for the best." The words sounded hollow even as he repeated them like they had when Nate had first said them all those years ago.

Ryan exhaled sharply through his nose, a sound that was part laugh, part sigh. "Same," he muttered, shaking his head slightly as he leaned back against the headboard. His fingers raked through his short hair in frustration before resting on the back of his neck.

Caleb turned toward him fully now, curiosity flickering to life. "You asked him?" There was a note of surprise in his voice that Ryan might've been as unsatisfied with Nate's cryptic answers as he had been.

Ryan nodded slowly, his lips pressing together in a thin line before he spoke again. "A few times," he admitted. "He'd always shut me down." He hesitated then, his gaze drifting somewhere past Caleb's shoulder as if searching for something just out of reach. When he spoke again, it was softer still. "But…"

"But what?" Caleb pressed immediately, leaning forward slightly as if closing the physical distance between them might also close the gap between Ryan's hesitation and whatever truth lay beyond it.

Ryan shifted where he sat, turning to face Caleb more directly now. His expression was unreadable, guarded but not cold, and for a moment, Caleb thought he might not answer. Then Ryan took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as though steadying himself for something heavy.

"Before the cabin," Ryan began carefully, each word deliberate and weighted with significance Caleb couldn't yet grasp, "Nate told me something."

It felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room at once. Caleb couldn't look away from Ryan's face now, not when every nerve in his body screamed that whatever came next would change everything. "What did he say?" Caleb asked quietly. His voice was steady on the surface but trembling underneath.

Ryan hesitated again, a long pause that stretched unbearably. His jaw worked as if he were chewing on words too bitter to swallow before finally spitting them out. "He told me..." Ryan said slowly, meeting Caleb's eyes. "...that I'd need to keep you safe."

Caleb's face went blank initially, as though his mind refused to process what he'd just heard. His lips parted slightly as if to speak, but no sound came out. Ryan watched him carefully, tension coiling tight in his shoulders as though bracing himself for whatever reaction might come next.

After what felt like an eternity but could only have been seconds, Caleb finally found his voice again, a whisper so quiet it barely broke the silence. "Safe from what?"

Ryan didn't answer right away. He couldn't. Because how could he admit that he didn't know? Whatever Nate had been running from, whatever ghost, shadow, or threat had driven them from city to city and left them with more questions than answers, remained just as much a mystery now as it had always been? "I don't know," Ryan said finally. 

"Well...If he told you to keep me safe," Caleb began, his words slow and deliberate like he was piecing them together as he spoke, "That means he knew he was leaving." His green eyes locked onto Ryan's face, searching for answers he feared weren't there.

Ryan exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. The motion was restless, almost agitated, as if thinking too hard was physically wearing him down. "Yeah," he said.

"But why wouldn't he tell you?" Caleb pressed, his frustration bubbling to the surface now. His voice rose slightly, not in anger but desperation, the kind that comes when you're trying to fit together pieces of a puzzle you don't even have all the edges for.

Ryan shrugged a casual motion that felt out of place. Yet his jaw was tight, and his blue eyes had darkened in thought. "Probably because knowing would've put me in danger, too," he said at last, his voice quieter now but no less firm.

Caleb blinked, and for a moment, he didn't breathe. The implication hit him like a punch to the gut, and his chest tightened painfully. "So you think whoever's after him..." His words faltered as he swallowed hard.

Ryan didn't say anything. He didn't need to.

Caleb sucked in a sharp breath, and it came out shaky. His pulse thundered against his ribs, erratic and relentless, as though his body was trying to outrun the truth taking shape in his mind. "Shit," he whispered under his breath, though the word carried none of its usual bite, more like a prayer or a curse uttered to no one in particular.

Ryan shifted beside him on the bed, studying Caleb's expression with an intensity that made Caleb feel exposed. Vulnerable. "We need to find him," Ryan said firmly. "Fast."

The word wasn't just urgent. It was absolute.

Caleb gave a small nod, though it felt more like muscle memory than an intentional choice. A name surfaced amidst the chaos, unbidden and half-forgotten until now. "Enzo," he murmured after what felt like an eternity.

Ryan blinked at him from across the bed. "What?" he asked, shifting slightly closer as if proximity might help him make sense of whatever Caleb had just said.

Caleb turned his head to meet Ryan's eyes again. This time, there was something sharper in his own—a glimmer of determination breaking through the fog of uncertainty. "Dad's friend," he explained slowly, each word deliberate as if speaking them aloud might solidify their meaning. "His name was Enzo."

Ryan sat up slightly at that, repeating the name under his breath as though testing its weight on his tongue. "Enzo..." He frowned thoughtfully before tilting his head to one side. "Sounds Italian."

Caleb nodded quickly. "He had an accent," he confirmed, memories tugging at the edges of his consciousness now with more clarity than they'd had moments ago. "Thick." His voice softened slightly, almost wistful, as he continued: "I remember him and Dad talking about where we'd move next...but that's it."

Ryan sighed deeply and leaned back against the headboard again. He ran both hands through his hair before letting them drop heavily onto the bedspread beside him. "So...you said last time he moved to Texas," he began carefully.

"Well...at least that's what I remember hearing," Caleb corrected quietly but firmly.

"Right," Ryan conceded without argument before continuing with even more emphasis: "Even if that's true, we've got nothing to go on." He gestured vaguely with one hand as though listing invisible bullet points in midair: "We don't know his last name, where he lives. Hell, we don't even know if he'd help us find him." He let out another sigh, edged with frustration, and added grimly. "We could spend weeks, even months, chasing after some guy who doesn't want to be found."

The logic stung more than Caleb cared to admit because deep down, he knew Ryan wasn't wrong.

Caleb fell back against the pillow, his head sinking into the lumpy motel bed. Every clue they'd uncovered, every maddeningly incomplete piece of Nate's disappearance, nibbled at him like a splinter lodged too deep to pull free.

"Alright," Ryan finally said. "What the fuck is going on in that nerd brain of yours?"

Caleb exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face before rubbing at his temples. "It's just…" He trailed off, his words catching. "It's just the way the house was when we got there."

Ryan cocked an eyebrow. "Too snug, right?"

Caleb turned his head slightly, his gaze distant and unfocused as if he were looking through Ryan rather than at him. "He left everything," he said quietly, almost to himself. "His phone. His laptop. All of it." The words felt heavy as they left his mouth, sinking into the space between them. Then he hesitated momentarily before adding, almost reluctantly, "But the watch…"

Ryan frowned, leaning in ever so slightly as if trying to catch onto the thread of Caleb's thoughts. "What about it?" he asked, his tone more serious now, the teasing edge gone.

Caleb's lips pressed as he tried to articulate what had nagged him since they'd left the house. "He loved that watch," he said after a beat, his voice low but sure. "I picked it for him…for his birthday a few years ago." There was a faint flicker of nostalgia in his expression before he pushed on. "He never...ever took it off."

Ryan tilted his head, watching Caleb carefully. Then, with a sudden grin breaking across his face like sunlight cutting through clouds, he swung himself off the bed in one fluid motion. "You mean this watch?" he asked casually, striding over to where his backpack slumped against the wall.

Caleb sat bolt upright, eyes widening as Ryan rummaged through the bag with an exaggerated lack of urgency. Ryan found what he was looking for and held up a small black pouch with a triumphant smirk before tossing it onto the bed. Caleb snatched up the bag, his fingers trembling slightly as he worked it open. He tipped its contents onto his palm, and there it was: Nate's watch. The familiar steel band gleamed, its surface catching the light like it had been waiting for this exact moment to be found.

Caleb's breath caught in his throat. For a long moment, all he could do was stare at it.

He turned the watch over in his hands, running his fingertips along its edges as if trying to decipher some hidden message etched into its surface. The metal was cool against his skin, but something felt off.

Ryan noticed Caleb's intense focus and sat up slightly again, curiosity sparking in his emerald eyes. "What is it?"

Caleb tilted the watch to one side and then another before lifting it to his ear and gently shaking it. Nothing. "Got a knife?" he asked abruptly without looking up.

Ryan blinked at him but pointed toward his backpack again with a faintly amused expression. "Inside pocket."

Without missing a beat, Caleb retrieved a small Swiss army knife from Ryan's bag and climbed back onto the bed with purpose. His knees sank into the worn mattress as he positioned himself directly under the light. Ryan watched with growing curiosity as Caleb wedged the blade under the watch's backplate and gave it a sharp twist. The cover popped off with an audible snap. Ryan leaned forward now, unable to mask his intrigue. Caleb reached inside the hollow casing and carefully pulled out a small piece of paper folded so precisely that it fit perfectly within the empty space.

When Caleb finally read what was written inside, something shifted in him, a spark igniting behind those green eyes that Ryan hadn't seen in days. A slow smile spread across Caleb's face, expressing relief and exhilaration.

"No. Fucking. Way." Caleb breathed in disbelief before looking up at Ryan.

Ryan snatched the paper from Caleb's hand without waiting for permission. His eyes scanned Nate's familiar handwriting, which contained coordinates written with sharp precision. For a moment, neither spoke, but then Ryan gave a low whistle and shook his head with an incredulous grin creeping across his face.

"Nate," Ryan said finally with a chuckle that intertwined admiration and frustration. "You crafty son of a bitch."

Still clutching the watch tightly in his hand as if it were the last tether to sanity in their increasingly chaotic lives, Caleb sat back on his heels. He exhaled sharply through his nose, the sound of frustration mingling with resignation. "Problem is," he said, his voice flat yet laced with an undercurrent of irritation, "We don't have a phone anymore."

Ryan snorted audibly. The kind of snort that was equal parts derisive and amused. "Yeah," he said, drawing out the word with exaggerated anticipation. "About that..."

Caleb's head snapped up, his eyes narrowing into sharp slits. Ryan's smirk blossomed slowly, spreading across his face. He reached into his beaten-up backpack with deliberate flair, dragging out the moment just enough to be infuriating. Then, with a flourish that could only be described as theatrical, he pulled out a sleek, slightly scuffed smartphone and waved it triumphantly in the air like he'd just discovered fire.

Caleb's expression froze for a split second, just long enough to betray how blindsided he was, before his jaw twitched, barely suppressing what could've been a growl. "Where the hell did you get that?" The words were clipped and sharp, each syllable landing like a spark.

Ryan tilted his head, feigning innocence so poorly that it bordered on parody. "Oh, you know," he said casually, turning the phone over like it was some rare artifact. He glanced at Caleb from beneath his lashes, his grin widening. "That guy at the club? The one you got all jealous over?" His eyebrows wiggled suggestively. Then he held up the phone again, giving it a little shake for emphasis. "I borrowed it."

The silence that followed was deafening. Caleb blinked once. Then again. The vein in his temple pulsed faintly as he stared at Ryan like he couldn't decide whether to throttle him or kiss him. The old Caleb would've scolded Ryan right then and there, launching into one of those impassioned speeches about morality and consequences that he was so good at delivering.

But instead, he sighed heavily and waved his hand toward the phone. "Jesus Christ, hurry up and put in the coordinates."

Ryan froze mid-swipe, his thumb hovering over the screen as he turned to Caleb with raised eyebrows and an expression that could only be described as delighted disbelief. "No lecture?" he asked incredulously before his expression shifted, turning sultry. "Damn, nerd. You're getting me hard again," Ryan razzed.

Caleb leveled him with a flat stare that spoke volumes more than any words could have. "Dude," he said evenly, enunciating every word with deliberate precision. "Type in the goddamn coordinates."

Ryan grinned like a kid who'd just gotten away with sneaking an extra cookie before dinner. "Look at you," he teased, punching the code he had clearly memorized with renewed enthusiasm. "Breaking bad." His grin turned positively gleeful as he glanced back at Caleb.

Caleb rolled his eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn't get stuck in the back of his head. A few seconds passed in relative silence except for the faint tapping of Ryan's fingers against the screen and the occasional muttered curse when autocorrect refused to cooperate.

Then, suddenly.

"Shit."

The single syllable dropped like a stone into still water, ripples of tension spreading outward instantly. Caleb straightened immediately, every muscle in his body tensing like a coiled spring. "Well?" His voice was sharp now, alert, and edged with just enough worry to make Ryan glance up briefly before tilting the screen toward him.

"You were right. El motherfuckin' Paso," Ryan said grimly, tapping the location displayed on the map app for emphasis. "Looks like Nate's sending us to the land of cheap beer and cowboy hats."

Caleb groaned loudly and ran a hand down his face in frustration, dragging it down from forehead to chin like he was physically trying to wipe away his irritation. "Jesus," he muttered. "We just left San Diego."

"Which means," Ryan said far too brightly, "We're looking at an eight-hour drive." He paused for dramatic effect before adding gleefully. "Minimum.*"

"Fucking hell," Caleb muttered darkly under his breath.

Ryan reclined against the pillows behind him like someone settling in for storytime. He linked his hands behind his head and flashed Caleb a lazy grin. "We could crash here for a few more hours," he suggested lightly before shrugging one shoulder as though what he was about to say next wouldn't be awful. "Or we hit the road now and probably get there tomorrow if we don't stop much."

Caleb stared at him for several long moments without saying anything, his gaze flickering between Ryan's maddeningly smug expression and the coordinates still glowing mockingly on the phone screen. Then, finally, with another heavy sigh that seemed to come from somewhere deep within his soul, he muttered two fateful words. 

"Let's go."

*

El Paso stretched before them, sprawling and unrestrained, like a sun-bleached relic of the old world caught between its storied past and a gritty, unrelenting present. The city shimmered under the desert heat, its edges blurred by waves of rising air. Crumbling walls bore murals of saints with mournful eyes and revolutionaries immortalized mid-battle, their painted gazes defiantly against the march of time. It was a place where the sacred and the profane coexisted seamlessly, where beauty clung stubbornly to decay.

Inside the car, Ryan drove with one hand gripping the wheel while the other tapped out an uneven rhythm against the door, his knuckles rapping like a restless drumbeat. His jaw tightened as he glanced at the GPS screen mounted on the dashboard, droning directions that felt increasingly dubious. His dark hair was damp from sweat, strands sticking to his temple despite the weak blast of air conditioning struggling against the desert's unforgiving heat.

"Turn left in half a mile," Caleb said.

Ryan's lips twisted into a wry grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Half a mile? Feels like we're heading straight off the edge of the world."

Beside him, Caleb's fingers tapped absently against his knee. His green eyes darted from one passing landmark to another, graffiti-tagged overpasses and abandoned gas stations with shattered windows. These rusted-out cars sat lifeless on cinder blocks like skeletal remains. His face betrayed no emotion, but his body told another story, a subtle tension in his shoulders, a barely perceptible bounce in his knee beneath his denim shorts. It wasn't fear exactly, but something closer to anticipation laced with unease.

"You sure this is right?" Ryan asked, his voice cutting through the quiet like a blade. He glanced sideways at Caleb, his tone carrying more skepticism than concern.

Caleb didn't look away from the window as he replied. "Yeah." His voice was steady, like he was trying to convince himself as much as Ryan. "We're close."

Ryan raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. Instead, he exhaled sharply and tightened his grip on the wheel as they followed another turn. The paved road beneath them gave way without warning to dirt, the sudden shift jolting them slightly in their seats, dust billowing behind the car in lazy clouds.

The landscape grew harsher and wilder here. Sparse patches of dying Joshua trees dotted the terrain, their twisted forms clawing at the sky like desperate hands reaching for salvation. In their shadow sat an old silver Airstream trailer, its once-polished surface dulled by years of neglect. The trailer leaned slightly to one side as if it had grown weary of standing upright against relentless winds and time's slow erosion.

Ryan pulled up next to it and killed the engine. The silence followed was immediate and deafening, except for the faint ticking sound of the car cooling down under the sun's relentless glare. He briefly leaned back in his seat, eyes fixed on the trailer, then turned toward Caleb.

"Well," Ryan said, breaking the silence with a voice that carried equal parts curiosity and apprehension. "This is it?" Caleb nodded but didn't move to exit just yet. "Want me to go first?" Ryan asked after a beat, his tone lighter now but still edged with caution.

Caleb finally tore his gaze away from the trailer to look at Ryan. Something in his eyes made Ryan pause. "No," Caleb said quietly but firmly. "I'll do it."

They stepped out of the car together. The ground crunched beneath them as they approached the trailer side by side.

Caleb raised his fist, pausing briefly. His knuckles rapped against the metal, three firm knocks. The silence that followed was tangible and uncomfortably long. When the voice finally came, a deep, gravelly rumble from within startled him slightly.

"Who is it?"

The question carried a weight of caution, suspicion curling around each word like smoke. Caleb hesitated, his mind scrambling for the right words. He squared his shoulders and forced his voice to steady as he answered, "My name's Caleb. I'm...looking for Nate."

Another heavy and deliberate silence followed.

Then came the sound of movement on the other side: slow footsteps approaching the door. The handle turned with a metallic creak before the door eased open just wide enough for them to see who stood behind it.

The man who emerged was striking in a way that spoke more of resilience than charm. His face was rugged, carved by time and hardship into sharp angles and deep lines. His dark hair was streaked with silver at the temples, giving him an air of authority that demanded notice. A neatly trimmed beard framed his jawline, though its rough edges hinted that grooming wasn't high on his list of priorities. His olive-toned skin bore the unmistakable mark of someone who'd lived under an unforgiving sun for years, tanned and weathered yet resilient. His eyes were what unsettled Caleb most. Deep-set and shadowed beneath thick brows, they seemed to pierce through him with an intensity that belied their calm surface. 

Much like Nate's, Caleb thought. 

They flicked briefly over him before shifting to Ryan, assessing them with a detached curiosity that felt almost clinical. A cigarette dangled from between his fingers, its ember glowing as he took a long drag before exhaling smoke in a slow curl that dissipated into the dry air. The man's lips curled into a faint smirk, not warm or welcoming but amused. When he spoke again, his voice carried a thick Italian accent that softened its rough edges but lent it no less authority.

"Well, well," he said slowly, drawing out each word as though savoring them. "Guess you got here after all."

Caleb nodded cautiously, unsure whether to feel relieved or apprehensive that this stranger already knew they'd come.

The man's gaze shifted to Ryan now, lingering longer this time. Something was calculating in how he looked at him like a predator sizing up potential prey. Ryan bristled under the scrutiny, straightening his back and fixing the man with a glare that dared him to say something.

"What the fuck are you looking at?" Ryan snapped, his tone sharp enough to cut through steel.

The man chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated deep in his chest as he took another drag from his cigarette. Smoke trailed lazily from his lips as he exhaled again, shaking his head slightly as though amused by the boy's defiance.

"You must be Ryan," he said, ignoring the hostility in Ryan's tone.

Ryan's scowl deepened. "You got a problem with that?"

The man's smirk widened into something closer to a grin, though there was no mistaking the edge of danger behind it. "Not at all," he replied smoothly. "In fact..." He paused for effect, leaning casually against the doorframe as though they were discussing nothing more serious than the weather. "...I might have to eat crow."

Ryan frowned at that, confusion flashing across his face before it twisted into annoyance. "What the hell does that mean?" he shot back.

The man didn't answer immediately; instead, he chuckled and tapped ash from his cigarette onto the ground before straightening up. "Your Dad and I made a bet," he explained, amusement still lacing his words. "I said you two wouldn't make it past state lines." He tilted his head slightly toward Caleb, eyes narrowing just enough to suggest approval or surprise. "Guess I underestimated you."

Caleb stiffened at the mention of Nate, his mind racing as pieces began to slot together too quickly for comfort. "You talked to him?" he asked sharply.

The man's smirk didn't falter entirely but softened around the edges into something more inscrutable, something knowing. He studied Caleb carefully now as though weighing whether or not to reveal whatever it was he knew. "Let me guess," he said after another pause, his tone thoughtful but edged with mischief. "You noticed the watch...didn't you? A little too on-the-nose?"

Caleb blinked in surprise but recovered quickly enough to nod, a subtle gesture accompanied by an unconscious movement of his hand grazing over his wrist where Nate's watch had once rested. 

But then realization hit him like cold water dousing a fire: sudden and undeniable.

"He didn't go back to the house," Caleb murmured aloud before realizing he was speaking, the words tumbling out more as an epiphany than an accusation. "You did." His green eyes locked onto the man's, now sharper than ever, as though daring him to deny what they both already knew.

Enzo offered Caleb an almost imperceptible nod, acknowledging without apology or explanation. "Guess he was right," Enzo said quietly after another beat, a strange note of respect creeping into his voice, even as smoke curled lazily from between his lips again. "You're a bright young man."

"Enough with this cryptic bullshit, dude!" Ryan growled heatedly, taking half a step forward despite himself now glaring daggers at Enzo, who remained maddeningly unbothered by either boy's reactions thus far. "Where the fuck is Nate?!"

Enzo arched one brow slightly at Ryan's outburst but otherwise gave no reaction save for pushing open the trailer door further while stepping aside. "Come inside, boys."

The trailer was a study in organized chaos, the reflection of a man prepared for anything but comfort. Every corner was crammed with objects that demanded attention. The walls were patched together with yellowing maps, their edges curling from age. Among them were faded photographs, some tearing at the corners, others barely clinging to the pushpins that secured them. There was an unsettling intimacy to the images of faces frozen in moments of defiance, sorrow, or quiet joy. 

On the scratched countertop, a half-empty bottle of whiskey stood sentinel beside a revolver. A single bullet lay next to it, its dull brass casing a reminder of choices yet to be made. Across from this tableau of readiness was the kitchenette, compact but functional, its sink filled with a few unwashed dishes stacked precariously. A tiny table bolted to the floor separated two cushioned benches that had long since lost their softness, their fabric worn thin and patched in places. In the farthest corner of the trailer, a thin mattress lay crammed into an alcove barely large enough to contain it. A threadbare blanket was tossed carelessly over it, one corner slipping onto the floor as if abandoned mid-thought.

Enzo shut the door behind them. He ran a hand through his graying hair, his fingers lingering at his temple as though pressing away some unseen burden. "Excuse the mess," he muttered, his voice rough and gravelly from years of hard living. "I don't get company much."

Ryan snorted as his sharp gaze swept over the trailer's interior. His eyes caught on the scattered papers spilling across the counter and then drifted to the sink full of dishes and the revolver resting too casually nearby. "No shit," he remarked, his tone edged with dry amusement. 

Caleb didn't respond. He barely noticed Ryan's quip at all. His mind churned too fast, spinning on an axis of questions and doubts that refused to settle. His eyes flickered over everything.

Enzo gestured toward the small seating area with a jerk of his chin. "Sit," he said.

The booth creaked slightly under their weight as they slid into place. Ryan took the seat closest to the door, his posture tense and restless like a coiled spring, while Caleb sat across from him, his movements slower and more deliberate. He folded his hands on the table, but his fingers fidgeted with the edge of his sleeve, a subtle betrayal of nerves.

Leaning forward on his elbows, Ryan wasted no time cutting through pleasantries. "Spit it out." His voice was low but firm, each word landing like a hammer blow.

Enzo let out a long exhale through his nose, his lips curling into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Very well," he said after a beat.

He moved toward a shelf where a small safe crouched beneath stacks of books and gear. How he knelt down and turned, the combination lock spoke of muscle memory, practiced ease honed by years of mistrust. With a soft click, the door swung open. Enzo reached inside and pulled out two small booklets and an impressively thick stack of cash held together by a rubber band.

Without ceremony, he tossed them onto the table between Ryan and Caleb. For a moment, neither moved. Their eyes locked on what lay before them, expecting it to burst into flames or reveal some darker truth. Finally, Ryan's hand inched forward. He picked up one of the booklets and flipped it open cautiously.

"Passports," he muttered before realization hit him like a slap. His grip tightened involuntarily as he stared at the image inside, a photo of himself staring back from beneath an unfamiliar name. Fake passports. Ryan clenched his jaw as he slammed the booklet back onto the table and looked up at Caleb. "This is what was in the safe back at the house," he said bitterly, his voice low but charged with disbelief. Caleb's hand hovered over the stack of cash.

Enzo leaned against the counter now, arms crossed over his chest as he watched their reactions unfold. His smirk deepened at Ryan's expression of barely restrained fury. "You're catching on," he said dryly.

Ryan fixed him with an icy glare. "Where. Is. He?"

The smirk faded from Enzo's face. He tilted his head slightly as if weighing how much to reveal or how much they could handle hearing at once. Then he spoke: "He's in Puerto Peñasco," he said evenly, his tone carefully neutral.

Caleb's head snapped up so quickly it startled even Ryan. "Mexico?"

Enzo nodded once in confirmation. "Been there a few days," he continued matter-of-factly. "Staying low."

Caleb swallowed hard. His throat felt constricted, like someone had pressed invisible hands around it. He forced himself to speak again despite how tight his chest felt. "Why?"

Before Enzo could answer, Ryan asked. "What the hell did he do?" His tone bristled with frustration now, an accusation aimed not just at Nate but at Enzo, too, for withholding answers.

A dark chuckle rumbled from Enzo's chest as he shook his head slowly, a sound devoid of humor but rich with irony nonetheless. "Nate did a lot of things," he admitted grimly before letting his gaze shift toward Caleb for just a fraction longer than necessary. "A lot of bad things," he added. Something softer flickered there, a rare crack in his hardened exterior. "But you?" Enzo said quietly. The words landed like stones dropping into still water. Their ripple spread outward until they settled heavily in Caleb's chest. "You were his greatest accomplishment."

Caleb's breath hitched, sharp, and uneven, as though the air in the room had turned thick enough to choke him. His nails scraped against the cheap, scratched surface of the plastic table, leaving faint crescent-shaped marks behind. The tension in his hands grew unbearable until his fingers curled tightly into fists, his knuckles blanching against his tan skin. His eyes darted toward the window, seeking any escape from the suffocating reality pressing in on him. He blinked rapidly, fighting against the sting that clouded his vision. 

Ryan's gaze flicked between Caleb and Enzo, his brows furrowed in silent calculation. His fingers drummed lightly on the table's edge before he leaned forward, his posture alert now, tension coiling in his shoulders. "What's going on here?" Ryan asked, his eyes locked on Enzo. "Why are these people after him? What do they want?" His tone sharpened further as he pressed for answers.

Enzo sighed heavily, a sound that carried years of exhaustion and regret. He lifted a hand to rub his jaw, his calloused fingers dragging over the stubble that had grown rough. For a moment, he didn't speak. Instead, he shifted his weight back against the wall, leaning into it as though gathering strength for what he was about to say.

"They want his head," Enzo said, each word slow and deliberate.

Caleb flinched slightly at their impact but quickly masked it with a rigid stillness. His fingers gripped the table's edge harder, so tight the plastic groaned faintly under the strain.

Enzo pushed off the wall and moved toward the corner cupboard. He opened it without a word and pulled out another bottle of whiskey and three mismatched shot glasses. The amber liquid inside sloshed slightly as he carried it to the table. He slid into the booth across from Caleb and sat next to Ryan. Enzo unscrewed the cap from the bottle with deliberate slowness and poured three shots precisely, each glass filled just shy of overflowing. He pushed one glass toward Caleb and another toward Ryan before taking one himself. The action was calm, almost ritualistic.

He was preparing them.

Ryan leaned back in his seat and rubbed the back of his neck. "Not exactly the best time to get waisted, old man," he muttered under his breath before adding pointedly.

Enzo chuckled dryly and raised his glass slightly in a mock toast before taking a slow sip. His face didn't twitch at the burn. Instead, he let out a small sigh as though savoring its warmth. "Trust me, kid," he said, setting his glass on the table's surface. His dark eyes flicked to meet Ryan's squarely, steady, and unflinching before finally landing on Caleb. 

"After you hear what I'm about to tell you...you're gonna need it."

(To be continued...)

---

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