Page 57 of Unbroken

I try to bite back my smile, but it still breaks through. I glance up at Vadka and swear—swear—he’sblushing.

This massive, tattooed, leather-jacket-wearing, motorcycle-riding badass enforcer is blushing on my front stoop because his son just outed him as soft and sweet.

My damn heart.

“Well, please tell your papa they’re beautiful,” I say, winking at Luka.

“She says they’re beautiful!” Luka yells up to Vadka, bouncing like a pogo stick.

“I heard her,” Vadka replies, voice low and smooth but laced with warmth only Luka can bring out. He winks at me, and the flutter it ignites low in my stomach is immediate and dangerous. “Let’s get these in some water. I’ll put them in a vase and be right back—then we can grab dinner. I heard this place has animal-shaped cups?”

Luka lights up. “Animal cups!”

Seriously, are kids this easy to please?

“We’ll go with you,” Vadka says, trailing after us.

I don’t want them to come in though. I haven’t tidied up.

Mariah used to rag on me for being messy—always immaculate, always put-together, like a living Pinterest board—but I’m not a total disaster. There’s a laundry basket I haven’t folded, a couple of glasses in the sink, a leaning tower of unopened mail, and, yeah, some shopping bags I haven’t gone through. It’s… lived-in. Not gross or even chaos.

While I’m fussing with the flowers, I catch Vadka staring at my front door like it personally offended him. He touches the lock and glances at the windows, assesses the doorframe with that stern look that tells me he’s not happy.

“This is your lock?” he asks, like I just told him I leave my door open at night.

“What?”

“I could get through this with one of Luka’s plastic hammers. This is not okay.”

I roll my eyes, exhaling hard. “Didn’t you say the threat from the Irish wasn’t real?”

“No,” he snaps, eyes going dark and stormy. “I said that particular lead is a red herring. But you are absolutely in danger, Ruthie. We’ve had guards on you.”

I freeze. “When were you planning on telling me that?”

“Today,” he says, shaking his head like he’s already tired of the conversation. “They started last night. But this lock? No. This isn’t amateur hour. I’m gonna talk to your landlord.”

“Ican talk to my landlord.”

“You can. But I’ll get it done faster. And before you hit me with that ‘strong woman’ argument, remember?—”

“This is the biggest bed I’ve ever seen!” Luka shouts from the bedroom, suddenly airborne on my mattress, bouncing like he has springs in his feet. I gasp.

“Oh my god, Luka—don’t do that! You could fall!” I start toward him.

“Luka!” Vadka’sdadvoice cuts through the room, sharp and commanding. “Get down.Now.”

Luka flops onto his butt, wide-eyed, lower lip already trembling. “I just wanted to jump,” he says in a small voice.

Vadka strides over, kneels, and wraps his arms around him in one swift, protective move.

“I know, bud. But you could get hurt. Badly. I had a cousin fall off a bed and break his collarbone.”

“His what?” Luka asks, eyeswide.

“This bone.” Vadka touches Luka’s shoulder gently. “It’s not fun. You’d be in pain and stuck in a sling for weeks.”

Luka’s lip starts to wobble again. “But I wanna.” He scowls. “You can’t make me not jump on the bed!”