Chapter 6
The soft spot
Luca’s mind was a storm, thoughts colliding and spiraling as he stared at Caleb’s unconscious form. The man was slumped in the chair, his head hanging low, his breathing shallow but steady. Blood streaked his arms and dripped from his fingertips, pooling on the concrete floor beneath him. The sight made Luca’s stomach churn, and he had to look away, his jaw tightening as he fought back the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm him.
He shouldn’t care. He shouldn’t. Caleb had abandoned him years ago, walked away without so much as a backward glance, leaving Luca to pick up the pieces of whatever was left in his wake. Luca had told himself a thousand times that he was done with Caleb Smith, that the man meant nothing to him anymore. And yet, here he was, his chest aching with something he refused to name, something that felt dangerously close to fear.
The sounds Caleb had made during the torture echoed in Luca’s mind, sharp and unrelenting. The choked gasps, the muffled cries, the way his body had jerked against the chains as the pain became too much to bear. Luca had tried to shut it out, to bury it under layers of indifference, but it was no use. Every sound had carved itself into his memory, leaving him raw and exposed.
He clenched his fists, the chains around his wrists rattling with the movement. Anger burned through him, hot and unrelenting, but it wasn’t just anger at the man who had done this to Caleb. It was anger at himself, at the part of him that still cared, that still felt the sting of betrayal and the ache of loss. He should be reveling in this, should be laughing at the irony of Caleb’s downfall. But all he felt was a deep, gnawing rage that threatened to consume him.
“ Get it together ,” Luca muttered under his breath, forcing himself to take slow, measured breaths. He couldn’t afford to lose control, not here, not now. He needed to think, to figure out what the hell was going on.
His eyes flicked back to Caleb, taking in the bruises and cuts that marred his skin, gifts from the latest visit of their torturer. The man looked broken, a far cry from the confident, self-assured agent Luca had once known. But even in his unconscious state, there was a stubbornness to Caleb, a resilience that Luca couldn’t help but admire. It was one of the things he’d always hated about him, how Caleb could endure anything and still come out swinging.
Luca’s mind raced as he pieced together what little he knew. This wasn’t about the cartel, at least not when it came to Caleb. The questions the man had asked, the way he’d zeroed in on some investigation, it was clear that Caleb had been digging into something he shouldn’t have. Something big. Something dangerous.
“ The agency ,” Luca murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. It made sense. Caleb had always been a straight arrow, the kind of guy who believed in justice and doing the right thing, no matter the cost. If he’d found something rotten within the DEA, he wouldn’t have been able to let it go. He would have dug and dug until he uncovered the truth, no matter who it pissed off.
And now, someone had found out. Someone powerful enough to send a team to silence him, to drag him to a black site and torture him for information. Luca’s stomach twisted at the thought. Whoever was behind this wasn’t playing around. They were willing to do whatever it took to protect their secrets, even if it meant destroying one of their own.
But who? And what had Caleb uncovered that was worth all this?
Luca’s mind raced, trying to connect the dots, but there were too many missing pieces. He needed more information, and the only person who could give it to him was currently unconscious and bleeding in a chair.
Luca shifted in his seat, the chains clinking softly as he tested their strength. They were solid, unyielding, just like the ones binding Caleb. Escape wasn’t an option, not yet. But that didn’t mean he was helpless. He just needed to bide his time, to wait for the right moment.
His eyes drifted back to Caleb, and for the first time, he allowed himself to really look at him. The years had changed him, hardened him, but there were still traces of the boy Luca had once known. The boy who had been his best friend, his confidant, his...
Luca cut the thought off before it could fully form, his jaw tightening. He couldn’t go down that road, not now. The past was the past, and no amount of nostalgia was going to change the fact that Caleb had chosen his career over Luca.
Over them .
But still, the question lingered, nagging at the edges of his mind: why did he care? Why did the sight of Caleb like this, broken, bleeding, vulnerable, make his chest ache with something he couldn’t name?
Luca shook his head, forcing the thoughts aside. He didn’t have time for this. He needed to focus, to figure out a way out of this mess. Because one thing was clear: if they stayed here, they were both dead men.
The sound of footsteps outside the door snapped Luca out of his thoughts. He straightened in his chair, his muscles tensing as he prepared for whatever was coming next. The door creaked open, and the man from before stepped inside, his expression unreadable.
Luca met his gaze, his own eyes hard and unflinching. “Back for round three?” he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
The man didn’t respond. Instead, he walked over to Caleb, grabbing a fistful of his hair and yanking his head up. Caleb groaned, his eyelids fluttering as he struggled to regain consciousness.
“Wake up, Agent Smith,” the man said, his voice cold and detached. “We’re not done yet.”
Luca’s heart pounded as he watched Caleb stir, his body tensing as consciousness clawed its way back. Caleb’s eyes snapped open, sharp and assessing despite the agony carved into every inch of his face. They locked onto the man gripping his hair, and for a moment, the room itself seemed to hesitate.
The man smiled, a slow, calculated curve of the lips that sent a chill down Luca’s spine. “Welcome back, Agent Smith,” he drawled, his voice slick with mockery. “How about we skip the theatrics and get to the part where you start talking?”
Caleb blinked, then just stared at him. Silent. Expression unreadable. But his eyes, his eyes burned with something almost amused. Luca knew that look. He’d seen it a hundred times before, back when Caleb was just a stubborn kid who’d rather take a beating than back down. The bastard still hadn’t learned.
The man’s smile faltered, irritation creeping in. He struck Caleb hard across the face, the crack of bone against flesh snapping through the air like a gunshot. Caleb’s head jerked to the side, blood splattering onto the cold floor. Luca flinched, his chains rattling as his hands curled into fists.
“What were you investigating?” the man demanded, his voice climbing with impatience. “What did you find?”
Another blow. Harder this time. Caleb swayed in his chair, blood dripping from his split lip. He let his head loll for a moment before lifting it again, slow and deliberate. Then, with a bloodied grin, he spat onto the floor and rasped, “Gonna have to narrow it down. I dig into a lot of dirtbags.”
The man’s face darkened, his fingers flexing like he was itching to wrap them around Caleb’s throat. His fist reared back again.
“Hey, jackass!” Luca’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. “You hit like a goddamn vegan.”
The man froze mid-swing. Slowly, he turned toward Luca, eyes narrowing. “What did you just say?”
Luca smirked, stretching as much as the chains allowed. “I said you hit like my Nonna, she’s ninety, and has a better aim.”
The man’s jaw flexed, rage pulsing under his skin. “You think you are funny, Moretti?”
Luca shrugged, all lazy arrogance. “I think I’m hilarious. But hey, don’t take my word for it. Ask your mother. Oh wait; she’s too busy pretending you don’t exist.”
The man’s face turned a dangerous shade of red, his fists curling so tight his knuckles went white. He took a slow, measured step toward Luca, radiating barely contained violence. “You’re gonna regret that.”
Luca’s smirk didn’t waver, but inside, his heart was racing. He could see the man’s anger boiling over, could see the way his focus shifted entirely to him. Good. That was exactly what he wanted.
“Oh, I’m shaking,” Luca said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “What are you gonna do, huh? Hit me? Go ahead. I’ve had worse from my kindergarten bully.”
The man lunged, his fist connecting with Luca’s jaw in a brutal blow that snapped his head to the side. Pain exploded across Luca’s face, but he forced himself to laugh, the sound rough and mocking.
“That all you got?” Luca taunted, spitting blood onto the floor. “I’ve had paper cuts that hurt more.”
The man struck him again, harder this time, the force of the blow making Luca’s vision swim. But still, he laughed, the sound echoing through the room like a challenge.
“Come on, big guy,” Luca said, his voice slurred but still defiant. “You can do better than that.”
???
Caleb watched in horror, his body trembling with a rage so visceral it felt like it might tear him apart. The man’s fists rained down on Luca in a relentless flurry, each blow landing with a sickening thud that echoed through the room.
Luca’s body jerked against the chains, his head snapping back with each strike, but he didn’t cry out. He didn’t give the man the satisfaction. Instead, he laughed; a rough, broken sound that was more defiance than humor. He kept taunting, kept provoking, drawing the man’s rage like a moth to a flame.
Caleb’s hands clenched into fists, the chains cutting into his wrists as he struggled against the restraints. His muscles burned with the effort, his chest heaving as he fought to break free, to do something. But the chains held firm, unyielding, just like the man’s fists.
Caleb’s vision blurred, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he watched Luca take hit after hit. The sound of each blow was like a knife to his chest, each one carving away a piece of him until he felt raw, exposed.
“Stop!” Caleb’s voice tore out of his throat, raw and desperate. “Leave him alone! Stop, you motherfucker!”
The man froze, his fist hovering in midair. Slowly, he turned to look at Caleb, his eyes narrowing as a slow, cruel smile spread across his face. “Huh,” he said, his voice dripping with mockery. “So this is what moves Agent Smith. Thanks for letting me know.”
Caleb’s stomach dropped, his chest tightening with a sickening realization. He’d made a mistake. A big one. He’d shown his hand, revealed the one thing he’d been trying to hide: that Luca meant something to him. That Luca was his only weakness.
The man’s smile widened, and he turned back to Luca, his fists falling with renewed vigor. Caleb screamed again, his voice breaking as he thrashed against the chains. “Stop! Stop, please!”
But the man didn’t stop. If anything, he seemed to relish Caleb’s desperation, each blow landing harder than the last. Luca’s laughter had faded now, replaced by ragged breaths and the occasional grunt of pain. His face was a mess, blood streaming from his nose and mouth, his eye swollen shut. But still, he didn’t cry out. Still, he refused to give the man what he wanted.
Caleb’s vision blurred, his chest heaving as he fought to breathe, to think. He couldn’t watch this. He couldn’t sit here and do nothing while Luca was beaten to a pulp. But what could he do? He was chained, helpless, completely at the mercy of a man who had none.
The man pulled back, his chest heaving as he glared down at Luca. For a moment, Caleb thought it was over, that the man had finally tired himself out. But then he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small knife, the blade glinting in the harsh light.
Caleb’s breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding as the man pressed the knife to Luca’s neck. Luca stiffened, a small, involuntary sound escaping his lips as the blade bit into his skin. A thin line of blood welled up, trickling down his neck and staining the collar of his shirt.
“No,” Caleb whispered, his voice barely audible. “No, no, no…”
The man’s eyes flicked to Caleb, his smile widening as he pressed the knife harder. “Talk,” he said, his voice calm, almost conversational. “Or your little boyfriend pays the price. What were you investigating?”
Caleb’s mind raced, his chest tightening with panic. He couldn’t lie. Not with the knife at Luca’s throat. Not with Luca’s blood dripping onto the floor. “A mole, there is a mole in the agency,” he said, his voice shaking. “But I don’t know who it is. I swear, that’s all I know!”
The man’s smile faded, replaced by a cold, calculating look. “Bullshit,” he growled, pressing the knife harder. A fresh trail of blood followed the blade as it moved closer to Luca’s artery. “Tell me the truth. What did you discover?”
“Nothing!” Caleb shouted, his voice breaking. “I swear, that’s all I know! Please, just stop!”
The man’s eyes narrowed, his grip tightening on the knife. For a moment, Caleb thought he was going to do it, going to slit Luca’s throat right there in front of him. But then the door burst open, and an agent stepped inside, his expression grim.
The man hesitated, his eyes flicking to the newcomer. The agent walked over and whispered something in his ear, his voice too low for Caleb to hear. The man’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening as he nodded reluctantly.
The agent left as quickly as he’d come, and the man turned back to Caleb, his lips curling into a sneer. He released Luca’s head, letting it slump forward as he stepped back, wiping the bloodied knife on his pants.
“You’ve got more luck than brains, Smith,” the man said, his voice cold. “Boss wants to be the one to interrogate you. So, we’re going on a little road trip.”
He turned and walked out; the door slamming shut behind him. The room fell into silence, broken only by the sound of Luca’s ragged breathing.
Caleb sagged in his chair, his body trembling with exhaustion and relief. His eyes flicked to Luca, his chest tightening at the sight of his battered face. “Luca,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Are you… are you okay?”
Luca didn’t respond at first. Slowly, he lifted his head, his one good eye meeting Caleb’s, a strange expression flickering across on his face for a moment as he stared at him; something gentle, surprised. “Peachy,” he croaked eventually, his voice rough but laced with humor. “You?”
Caleb let out a shaky breath, his lips twitching into a faint smile despite everything. “Yeah,” he said. “Peachy.”