Chapter 13
Breaking and Entering
Breakfast was a quiet affair, the air thick with tension and unspoken words. Caleb sat at the small wooden table, staring down at his plate as he mechanically ate the food Diego had prepared. He barely tasted it, his mind too preoccupied with the memories of the night before; the way Luca had looked at him, the heat of his body so close to his own, the way his breath had hitched when Caleb had suggested they share the bed.
It was foolish, he knew, to keep thinking about it. There was no point. Whatever had almost happened between them, whatever had almost been said, didn’t matter. Not now. Not when they were both in so much danger.
But try as he might, Caleb couldn’t stop the images from flashing through his mind. Luca’s body, lean and strong, his skin littered with tattoos that Caleb wanted to trace with his fingers, his tongue. The warmth of him, the sound of his harsh breaths, the look in his eyes just before he’d leaned in. It was maddening, the way Luca still got under his skin after all these years. The way he always had.
Caleb shook his head, forcing himself to focus on the present. He tuned into the conversation between Luca and Diego, who were sitting across from him, their voices low and serious. They were talking about the cartel, about Castillo and his operation, and Caleb felt a flicker of anger at the thought of what they’d discovered. Human trafficking. It made his stomach turn, the idea that the DEA, the people he’d dedicated his life to, could be complicit in something so vile.
He set his fork down, the sound drawing Luca’s attention. Their eyes met for a moment, and Caleb saw something flicker in Luca’s gaze, something soft, almost hesitant, before he looked away.
Caleb cleared his throat, leaning forward slightly. “We need a plan,” he said, his voice firm. “We can’t just sit here and wait for them to find us. We need to expose Castillo and the DEA mole. Both of them.”
Luca frowned; his arms crossed over his chest. “And how do you propose we do that? Walk into Castillo’s house and ask nicely for the evidence?”
Caleb ignored the sarcasm, his mind already racing. “Something like that, though not ask” he said. “We find the evidence ourselves. Financial records, communications, anything that ties Castillo to the DEA. If we can get our hands on that, we can bring them both down.”
Luca was quiet for a moment, his expression unreadable. Caleb could see the hesitation in his eyes, the way his jaw tightened as he considered the plan. Finally, he nodded, though his voice was cautious. “It’s risky. Castillo’s not going to just let us waltz in and take what we want. And if the DEA’s involved, they’ll be watching too.”
“I know,” Caleb said. “But it’s the only way. I can’t let them get away with this. Not after everything they’ve done.”
Luca’s gaze softened, just for a moment, and Caleb saw something in his eyes that made his chest tighten. It was the same look Luca had given him this morning; the same look that had made Caleb’s breath catch in his throat. But then it was gone, replaced by the usual guarded expression.
“Alright,” Luca said finally. “We’ll do it. But we do it smart. No unnecessary risks.”
Caleb nodded, relief washing over him. He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed Luca’s agreement; how much he’d needed to know that they were in this together.
“Smart,” he agreed. “We’ll need to scout the place first, figure out the best way in and out. And we’ll need to move fast. Once we have the evidence, we’ll go back to NY and I’ll give it to my boss.”
Diego, who had been silent up until now, spoke up. “I might know someone who can help you get in. I know a woman who works as a maid for Castillo and she owes me a favor. She’s been working there for years. She’ll be able to provide you with the layout of the house and guard shifts.”
Caleb felt a flicker of hope at the words. “Can you reach out to her?”
Diego nodded. “I’ll make the call.”
The conversation shifted then, the three of them discussing the details of the plan; the rough layout of Castillo’s other ranch that Diego knew the location of, the best time to strike, the equipment they’d need.
Caleb tried to focus, to push aside the lingering thoughts of Luca and the tension between them, but it was hard. Every time their eyes met, every time their hands brushed accidentally, he felt that same spark, that same pull that he’d been trying so hard to ignore.
But there was no time for that now. They had a job to do, and Caleb was determined to see it through. No matter what it cost him.
???
The cartel ranch number 2 loomed in the distance, a sprawling fortress of adobe walls and barbed wire fences, bathed in the pale glow of the moon. The desert air was thick with tension, the only sound the faint rustle of wind through the dry brush.
Caleb crouched low behind a cluster of rocks, his heart pounding as he scanned the compound through a pair of night-vision binoculars. Guards patrolled the perimeter, their silhouettes dark against the floodlights that swept the grounds. The place was a fortress, and getting in would be suicide. But they didn’t have a choice.
Luca shifted beside him, his voice a low murmur. “We go in through the east side. There’s a blind spot in the cameras near the generator. We’ll have about ten seconds to get over the wall before the next patrol comes around.”
Caleb nodded; his mouth dry. He adjusted the strap of his backpack, his fingers brushing against the cold metal of his gun, and followed Luca as they moved toward the compound. They stayed low, their movements silent and deliberate, until they reached the base of the fence.
Luca crouched, cupping his hands to give Caleb a boost. Caleb stepped into his palms, his muscles straining as he pulled himself up and over the wall. He landed in a crouch on the other side, his heart racing, and reached down to help Luca up after him.
The courtyard was eerily quiet, the only sound the distant hum of the generator. Caleb’s eyes darted around, taking in the layout; the main house, the garage, the barracks where the cartel men slept. They didn’t know where the evidence was, if it even existed, but the office in the main house seemed like the best place to start.
Luca gestured toward the house, and they moved, sticking to the shadows as they crossed the open ground. They were almost to the door when a voice called out in Spanish, sharp and commanding. Caleb froze, his hand going to his gun, but Luca was already moving.
He stepped out of the shadows, his hands raised, and said something in Spanish, his voice calm and steady. The guard hesitated, lowering his rifle slightly, and that was all the opening Luca needed. He lunged forward, disarming the man in one swift motion and knocking him out cold with a brutal strike to the head.
Caleb stared at him, his heart racing, but Luca was already moving again, gesturing for Caleb to follow. They slipped inside the house, the air cool and quiet, and made their way down the hallway. The place was a maze of rooms and corridors, and Caleb’s nerves were on edge as they searched for anything that might tie Castillo to the DEA.
They found the office, the door locked, but Luca pulled a set of lock picks from his pocket and had it open in seconds. Inside, the room was cluttered with papers and files, the desk covered in stacks of documents.
Caleb moved to the desk, his hands trembling slightly as he began rifling through the papers. He didn’t know what he was looking for, but he hoped he’d recognize it when he saw it.
Luca stood by the door, his gun raised, his eyes scanning the hallway. “Hurry,” he said, his voice low and urgent.
Caleb nodded, flipping through the papers, but before he could find anything useful, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway. Luca’s expression hardened, and he stepped back into the room, closing the door softly behind him. “We’ve got company,” he said, his voice tight.
Caleb’s heart skipped a beat, and he moved to the window, peering out through the blinds. A group of cartel men was approaching the house, their guns raised and their faces hard. “Shit,” Caleb muttered, his mind racing.
“What do we do?” Luca asked.
Caleb didn’t answer, just moved to the desk and began shoving papers into his bag. “We take what we can and get out of here.”
But before they could move, the door burst open, and a cartel man stepped inside, his gun raised. Luca was on him in an instant, disarming him with a brutal efficiency and breaking his neck with a twist of his arms. But more men were coming, their shouts echoing down the hallway, and Caleb knew they were outnumbered.
“Stay down!” Luca barked, his voice sharp, as gunfire erupted outside the door. Caleb crouched behind the desk, his hands gripping his gun tightly, as Luca returned fire through the door, his movements calm and precise.
The door splintered under the barrage of bullets, and Caleb’s heart was pounding in his chest, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He could hear the shouts of the cartel men, the sound of boots on the floor, and then the door burst open. Luca was there, his gun blazing, taking down two men before they could even step inside. But there were more, too many, and Caleb knew they were outnumbered.
He stood, his gun raised, and fired, his shots hitting their marks with deadly accuracy. But it wasn’t enough. One of the men lunged at Luca, and Caleb saw the flash of a knife, the glint of steel in the dim light. He shouted a warning, but Luca was already moving, disarming the man and taking him down with a brutal efficiency that left Caleb breathless.
But then, as Luca turned to face him, his eyes grew impossibly big; a man in the doorway, his gun raised and aimed directly at Caleb. Time seemed to slow as Caleb’s eyes locked with the man’s, the barrel of the gun staring him down like a death sentence. He froze, his body refusing to move, his mind screaming at him to do something, anything.
And then Luca was there, moving faster than Caleb could process. He lunged in front of Caleb, his body shielding him just as the gun went off. The sound was deafening, and Caleb’s heart stopped as he saw Luca jerk, his hand flying to his arm, blood already seeping through his fingers.
“Luca!” Caleb shouted; his voice raw with panic. He moved toward him, his heart pounding in his chest, but Luca was already turning, his gun raised, and firing at the man who had shot him. The man went down, and Luca staggered back, his face pale but his expression determined.
“I’m fine,” Luca said, his voice tight with pain. “We need to move.”
Caleb wanted to argue, to insist on checking the wound, but there was no time. The cartel men were closing in, and they needed to get out of there. He grabbed Luca’s uninjured arm and pulled him toward the window, shoving it open and helping him climb through. They dropped to the ground outside, Caleb’s heart racing, his mind a whirlwind of fear and adrenaline.
Luca had been shot. Luca had been shot protecting him. The thought made his stomach churn, the guilt and fear twisting together into something unbearable as they climbed over the wall and dropped on the other side.
They ran through the desert, the uneven terrain making every step treacherous. Luca stumbled, his injured arm hanging limply at his side, blood soaking through his sleeve and dripping onto the dry earth. He cursed under his breath, trying to push himself up, but his legs gave out beneath him. Caleb was immediately at his side, his hands gripping Luca’s shoulders.
“I’m fine,” Luca growled, his voice strained but furious. “I can walk.”
“Oh, absolutely. And I’m a professional ballerina,” Caleb shot back. Before Luca could protest further, Caleb bent down, hooked an arm under Luca’s legs, and hoisted him over his shoulder like a sack of flour. Luca let out a string of curses, fists pounding against Caleb’s back, but Caleb ignored him, his focus entirely on getting them to the car.
The weight of Luca on his shoulder was nothing compared to the adrenaline surging through his veins. He could hear the shouts of the cartel men behind them, the sound of gunfire echoing in the distance. They were close, too close, and Caleb knew they had only seconds before the cartel caught up with them.
He ran, his legs burning, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The car was just ahead, parked behind a cluster of rocks where they’d left it. Caleb’s heart pounded in his chest as he pushed himself harder, his boots kicking up dust as he sprinted the last few yards. He reached the car and yanked open the passenger door, practically tossing Luca inside despite the man’s furious protests.
“Stay down,” Caleb barked, slamming the door shut before running to the driver’s side. He jumped in, his hands trembling slightly as he fumbled with the keys. The engine roared to life, and Caleb slammed his foot on the gas, the tires screeching against the dirt road as the car lurched forward.
Luca groaned, clutching his injured arm, his face pale and slick with sweat. “You didn’t have to manhandle me like that,” he muttered, his voice tight with pain and irritation.
“Right, because you were doing such a stellar job running on your own,” Caleb shot back. “Next time, I’ll bring a stretcher and a butler.”
Luca leaned back in his seat, his head resting against the window, his breathing shallow. “You’re an asshole, you know that?” he said, his voice quieter now, almost resigned.
Caleb glanced at him, his chest tightening at the sight of Luca’s pale face and the blood staining his shirt. “Takes one to know one,” he muttered, his voice softer than he intended. He reached over, his hand brushing against Luca’s uninjured arm. “Just hang on, okay? We’ll get you patched up.”
Luca let out a huff, eyes still closed. “Yeah, yeah. Wake me when we’re not on the kill list of every cartel in the region.”
Caleb’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles white as he focused on the road ahead. The headlights behind them were still there, but they were falling back, the distance between them growing with every second.
Caleb’s mind raced, his thoughts a chaotic mess. Luca had been shot. Luca had been shot protecting him. The memory of it played over and over in his mind; the way Luca had lunged in front of him, the way he’d taken the bullet without hesitation. It made Caleb’s chest ache, a mix of guilt and something else he couldn’t quite name.
He glanced at Luca again, his heart clenching at the sight of him. Luca’s face was pale, his jaw clenched against the pain, but there was a quiet strength in him that Caleb had always admired. Even now, bleeding and battered, Luca was still the most stubborn, infuriating, impossible person Caleb had ever known.
And Caleb couldn’t lose him. Not again.
The car sped through the desert, the headlights cutting through the darkness as Caleb drove them toward safety. The cartel’s vehicles were far behind them now, their lights barely visible in the distance. Caleb let out a slow breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly, but he didn’t slow down.