Chapter 1
Three months had passed since we crossed the border into Mexico. The days had started to blend together in a strange kind of rhythm that still felt unreal most of the time. We were living in a modest beach house on a quiet stretch of coast, far enough from the bigger tourist areas that the nights stayed peaceful. The house had white walls, cool tile floors, and wide windows that opened onto the ocean. Every morning I woke up to the sound of waves rolling onto the shore, and for a few quiet moments I could almost pretend we had left everything behind.
Rodriguez had arranged a smaller house for Tarzan a little further down the beach. It gave him space to be alone with his grief over Ladyboy, and it gave us some privacy as well. Tarzan spent most of his time walking the shoreline or sitting on his porch, rarely speaking much. He had grown quieter since that night in the laundry room. The big man who once felt like a steady anchor now carried a heavy sadness that never seemed to lift.
Rodriguez had gone back to work with the cartels almost immediately. He never gave me all the details, but I understood enough. He moved cargo along the coast, picking up shipments from hidden drop points, driving through the night to deliver to bigger players further inland. The work was dangerous and demanding, but he was careful and respected. He had kept our relationship very quiet. To the people he worked with, we were just two men who had escaped together and stuck close for survival. Good friends. Nothing more. He said it was safer that way. The cartels were not forgiving about two men sharing a bed.
I had tried working with them too at the beginning. A few low level jobs here and there. Moving boxes in warehouses, cleaning up after drops, standing watch outside meetings I did not understand. Each time I came home feeling dirty and scared. The people around the cartel moved with a kind of casual violence that made my skin crawl. After a while I started making excuses to stay behind. Rodriguez did not push me. He seemed to understand that I needed time to breathe.
We were still very wanted back in the United States. The news had called us the Legendary Lovers for a short while after the riot, turning our escape into a strange kind of tabloid story. But down here, with new names and new papers, the world felt a little further away. Still, I never fully relaxed. Every unfamiliar car on the road, every knock at the door, every siren in the distance made my stomach tighten.
Even so, there were moments like this one. Quiet evenings when the fear felt distant. I sat on the porch with Rodriguez, watching the ocean as the sun began to set. The waves rolled in with a steady rhythm, and the warm breeze carried the smell of salt and wet sand. For a little while, it almost felt like we could build something real here.
The sun was beginning to set over the ocean, casting a warm golden light across the water. I sat on the porch with Rodriguez beside me, our shoulders touching as we watched the waves. The evening breeze felt nice after the heat of the day.
I leaned my head lightly against his shoulder. “So… what’s happening tomorrow? You have another run, right?”
Rodriguez stayed quiet for a second. I felt him tense a little beside me. He did not like talking about the work when he was home.
“Yeah,” he said after a moment. “But I do not want to talk about it right now.”
He shifted closer and wrapped his arm around me, pulling me against his chest. He kissed the top of my head, slow and soft. “Just stay here with me for a bit.”
I smiled and closed my eyes, letting myself relax into him. “I always worry when you go out there. I know you are careful, but still… it makes the day feel long when you are gone.”
He rubbed my arm gently with his hand. “I know. I am sorry. But every time I leave, I think about coming back here. To you. That is what keeps me straight out there.”
I tilted my head up to look at him. “You make me feel safe. Even after everything. I never thought I would have this kind of thing with someone.”
Rodriguez looked down at me, his expression softening. “Neither did I. I thought my life was just going to be about staying on top and not getting killed. Then you showed up and made me want something different. Something better. You changed me, Chris. In a good way.”
I felt my face warm. I leaned in and kissed him softly. He kissed me back, slow and gentle, his hand resting on the side of my neck. When we pulled apart, I rested my forehead against his, smiling quietly.
“I love you,” I whispered.
“I love you too,” he answered, his voice low and warm. “More than I thought I could.”
We stayed like that on the porch as the sun slowly disappeared behind the horizon, wrapped up in each other while the ocean whispered below us.
The next morning I woke up to an empty bed. The spot beside me was still warm, but Rodriguez had already left for the day. I lay there for a moment, listening to the distant sound of the ocean through the open window. The house always felt quieter when he was gone.
I got up, stretched, and walked into the small kitchen. I made some breakfast, simple stuff we had from the market. Eggs, a little bread, and some fruit. The smell filled the house as I cooked. It still felt strange sometimes, having a normal morning like this.
I was sitting at the table eating when I heard a single knock on the door. Before I could answer, Tarzan walked right in like he always did. He looked tired but calm.
“You got any eggs?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Yeah,” I said, nodding toward the counter. “Take the whole carton if you want.”
Tarzan grabbed the eggs and sat down across from me. I pushed the plate of bread and fruit toward him. “Here. Eat something. I made extra.”
He took a piece of bread and started eating quietly. For a while we just sat there together, the sound of the ocean drifting in through the windows. It felt easy.
“How’s the house treating you?” I asked after a minute. “Still getting used to having your own place?”
Tarzan shrugged, chewing slowly. “It’s quiet. I like that. No one banging on the walls or yelling all night. I fixed the leak in the roof yesterday. Makes the mornings nicer.”
I smiled a little. “That’s good. I still can’t believe we have real roofs that don’t leak every time it rains. Feels like a luxury.”
He nodded, taking another bite. “Yeah. And the ocean’s right there. I walk down most mornings. Helps clear my head. How about you? You still working those odd jobs Rodriguez keeps finding for you?”
I took a sip of water and leaned back in my chair. “A couple days a week. Nothing too bad. Mostly moving boxes and cleaning up after drops. It’s not great, but it keeps me busy. Better than sitting around doing nothing.”
Tarzan grunted in agreement. “Busy is good. Keeps the mind from wandering too much. I’ve been helping some of the local fishermen fix their boats. Pays a little. Keeps me out of trouble.”
We kept talking like that for a while, small and easy things about our days. The weather. The food at the market. How the town felt different depending on the season. Nothing heavy. Just normal conversation.
Tarzan took another bite of bread and chewed slowly before looking at me. “You know, if you want to get away from the cartel stuff, I can introduce you to the fishermen down the beach. They are good people. Hard workers. It would not pay much, but at least it is honest work. No running around with dangerous types.”
I thought about it for a second. The idea of doing something normal, something that did not involve looking over my shoulder all the time, sounded nice. “Yeah. I would like that. I have been thinking about it anyway.”
Tarzan nodded and stood up, wiping his hands on his pants. “Alright. Let’s go then.”
I blinked, surprised. “Right now?”
“Yeah,” he said with a small shrug. “Why not? They are usually out early. Come on.”
I finished the last of my breakfast quickly and followed him out of the house. We walked down the sandy path that led toward the small fishing area further along the beach. The morning sun was warm on my skin, and the sound of the waves felt calming as we walked. Tarzan did not say much, but it was a comfortable kind of quiet.
When we got closer, I saw three older men sitting around a wooden table near some small boats pulled up on the sand. They were drinking coffee and talking in low voices. One of them noticed Tarzan and raised a hand in greeting.
“Tiago!” he called out with a warm smile. “Good to see you, my friend. You coming to help today?”
Tarzan smiled and walked over to them. “Morning. This is my friend Carlos. He is looking for some work too. Anything you guys need help with?”
The three men looked me over. They seemed kind, with weathered faces and calloused hands from years on the water. One of them, the oldest with gray hair and deep lines around his eyes, spoke first.
“Not much going on today,” he said. “The nets are already out. But if you want, you can help us unload the fish when the boats come back in. It does not pay much, just a few pesos and whatever we catch extra. But it is honest work.”
I looked at Tarzan. He gave me a small nod, like he was saying it was up to me. I thought about it for a moment. It was not glamorous. It would not make me rich. But it felt better than the cartel jobs I had been doing. Safer. Cleaner.
“Yeah,” I said. “I would like that. Thank you.”
The old man smiled and gestured toward an empty chair at the table. “Good. Sit down. Have some coffee while we wait for the boats. Welcome to the team, Carlos.”
I sat down at the wooden table with the three older men while Tarzan took the chair beside me. The morning sun was warm but not yet too hot, and the sound of the waves provided a calm background to our conversation. The oldest man, with gray hair and deep lines etched into his sun-weathered face, poured me a cup of coffee from a metal thermos and slid it across the table.
“I am Don Miguel,” he said with a kind smile. “Been fishing these waters for over forty years. This is Pedro,” he nodded to the man on his left, who had a thick mustache and a friendly round face, “and Luis over there.” Luis gave a small nod, younger than the other two but still in his fifties, with strong arms and a quiet demeanor.
“Nice to meet you all,” I said, taking the coffee.
Pedro leaned back in his chair and took a sip from his own cup. “So, Carlos, where are you from originally? You do not sound like you are from around here.”
I took a moment to think, remembering the fake story Rodriguez had helped me put together. “I grew up further north, near the border. Things got difficult there, so I came south looking for work and a quieter life. Ended up here on the coast a few months ago.”
Luis nodded slowly, watching the horizon. “The border area has been rough for a long time. A lot of people are moving south these days. You found a place to stay yet?”
“Yeah,” I replied. “I’m renting a small house a little further down the beach with a friend. It is nothing fancy, but it is close to the water and peaceful.”
Don Miguel smiled warmly. “That is good. The sea has a way of healing people. My wife always said the same thing. She passed a few years ago, but I still come out here every day. Makes me feel closer to her.”
The conversation stayed light as we waited for the boats. They asked me small questions about what kind of work I had done before, how I liked the town, and whether I had tried the local seafood yet. I answered carefully, keeping my replies simple and sticking to the story we had created. They seemed genuinely kind, not prying too deeply, just making conversation the way old fishermen do while waiting for the day to begin.
Tarzan joined in every now and then, telling them a funny story about a boat he had helped repair last week. The men laughed, and for a little while the tension I had been carrying felt lighter. It was strange how normal it all felt, sitting there with these three older men, drinking coffee and talking about everyday things. A small piece of the life I had once thought I would never have again.
