Rocco
“Sorry, I’m being an ass,” he said. “I’m tired, and all I want to do is crawl into my bunk and sleep for two days.”
At about two in the morning, his platoon sergeant woke him to tell him that everyone in his platoon was gone—even Gunner.
They had been ambushed while in town, and didn’t see the enemy before it was too late.
Two of the guys had lived through the attack.
Remmy died on the way to the hospital, and Simpson was able to report what had happened, but died in surgery.
As soon as he walked into the ring to find that he was sparring with his therapist, he knew that he couldn’t let it happen.
“Luna,” he breathed. He had in his mouth guard, and he wasn’t ready for her to laugh at him.
She was acting as though the two of them in the boxing ring wasn’t a big deal—but it was.
He had never hit a woman in his life, let alone his psychiatrist. He spat his mouth guard into his gloved hand and wiped the spit from his lips.
“Why are you here?” he asked.
“I disclosed that this is my gym, right?” Luna asked.
“Well, yes, but that’s not what I mean,” Rocco insisted.
“Okay, what did you mean then?” she asked.
“I can’t fight you,” he said. “Why are you in the ring with me?”
“I’m confused, Rocco,” she breathed, “why can’t you fight me?” He knew that he should keep his mouth shut. Luna wasn’t going to like his answer, but he just couldn’t help himself.
“Because,” he said, defiantly raising his chin to her, “you’re a girl.”
“So, you noticed then?” Luna teased. During their sessions, she wasn’t at all like the playfully sarcastic woman standing in front of him.
Luna was all business then, but now, she was like a bubbly teenager ready to have some fun.
Although he had a feeling that hitting her wasn’t going to be at all fun for him.
“I won’t fight you,” he insisted.
“Okay, suit yourself. If you won’t fight me, there’s someone in line behind you who is willing to spar.
Get out of the ring, Rocco,” she said. He looked behind himself to find some guy standing there, gloves on, waiting to take his turn.
He didn’t look like he’d care too much about having to hit a woman.
In fact, the guy looked like he was raring to go.
“He’s huge,” Rocco whispered to her.
“I have eyes,” Luna sassed, “I can see that for myself. If you won’t fight me, he will.
I’m good with either of you, but I won’t just stand here.
I need to blow off some steam, and hitting someone in the face does that for me.
” Rocco looked over Luna’s tiny form, and seeing her out of her office attire of a sleek pant suit had him rethinking everything.
“Fine,” Rocco growled. There was no way that he’d break one of his rules to never hit a woman. He didn’t care if the woman wanted him to hit her—he just didn’t have it in him to do something like that.
“Fine, what?” Luna asked.
“Fine, I’ll let the big guy behind me pummel you into dust. How do you want me to get you home?
Should I sweep you into a garbage bag or should I hunt down a box to transport you?
” Now it was his turn to be a sarcastic ass, but he didn’t care.
He stepped out of the ring and stood on the side, looking for any signs of distress on Luna’s beautiful face, but he saw none.
She had only been hit a few times, but had landed quite a few blows to the big guy that she was sparing with.
Rocco had to hand it to her—the woman had skills.