Chapter 5
ROCCO
Rocco hadn’t slept that well in years, and that realization hit him the second he opened his eyes and found Luna curled against his side like she belonged there. Like she’d always belonged there.
Sunlight spilled softly through the blinds, painting her skin gold while her dark hair spread across his chest and pillow.
One of her legs was tangled with his beneath the sheets, and every slow breath she took brushed warm against his ribs.
He was at peace for the first time he could remember—actual fucking peace.
Rocco stared at the ceiling for a long moment, trying to remember the last time he woke up without immediately feeling tension clawing at his chest. He couldn’t remember the last time that he woke up without guilt, without memories, and without hearing gunfire every time he closed his eyes.
But last night, he heard none of that. His sleep was nightmare-free, and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t wake up screaming. Instead, he woke up to Luna.
His hand moved instinctively, his fingers brushing lightly through her hair. She made a sleepy sound and burrowed closer against him. “You’re staring again,” she mumbled against his chest.
Rocco huffed out a quiet laugh. “Thought you were asleep.”
“I was.” She tilted her head just enough to look up at him with one eye half open. “Then you got all soft and emotional, looking at me that way.”
“Lies,” he breathed, but she was right. He was getting caught up in his feelings for her.
“Mm hm,” she hummed, letting him know that she knew the truth.
Her lips twitched sleepily before she closed her eyes again.
Rocco looked down at her and felt something settle deep in his chest. Something dangerous, because this thing that was happening between them felt terrifyingly close to happiness, and he wasn’t sure he trusted it.
People like him didn’t usually get things this good without paying for it later.
The thought sat heavy in his gut as Luna finally pushed herself upright, stretching slowly beside him.
Rocco’s brain stopped functioning for a second as he looked her naked body over. “Don’t start,” she warned immediately, catching the look on his face.
“I didn’t say anything,” he insisted, but all of the dirty things he was thinking were shouting to be said aloud.
“You didn’t have to,” she insisted. “I can see what you’re thinking. It’s written all over your handsome face.” She leaned in to give him a quick peck on the lips before she got out of bed. He just lay there, grinning like a loon.
Rocco dragged a hand down his face before sitting up, and that was when he saw it—movement outside the apartment window.
It was quick, but enough to make him notice.
Every muscle in Rocco’s body locked instantly as he stood and crossed the room to the window.
He searched the area, but found no one. Whoever had been there had already disappeared.
His pulse slowed slightly as he scanned the parking lot below and saw nothing except for a couple getting into a car near the far end of the complex.
It was probably nothing, but every one of his instincts said otherwise. They were screaming at him that something was wrong, and he had learned a long time ago to trust his damn instincts. Something about it sat wrong in his chest, and that had every one of the red flags in his head waving.
“You okay?” Luna asked quietly behind him. Rocco turned back toward her automatically, forcing his shoulders to relax.
“Yeah,” he lied. He didn’t want to alarm her if there was nothing to worry about.
But he knew in his gut that there was someone outside her window, because his old instincts were kicking in hard now.
They were the same ones that kept him alive overseas.
While he served, he had learned to watch exits, check his surroundings, and trust his gut.
And right now, his gut was screaming at him.
Luna slowly brushed her hand lightly down his arm. “You got really tense all of a sudden.”
Rocco looked back out of the window once more before shaking his head. “It’s probably nothing.”
That comment earned him a look. “The fact that you said ‘probably’ is not comforting.”
He huffed out a quiet laugh, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Sorry.” Luna studied him for a second too long, slipping into therapist mode. He recognized it immediately from their sessions together. Unfortunately for him, she was very good at reading him.
“What happened?” she asked softly. Rocco hesitated, not because he didn’t trust her, but because he did—too much already.
But there were parts of his past he usually kept locked down tight.
They were the dark corners he tried not to touch unless he absolutely had to, even in therapy.
Still, he found himself answering her anyway.
“Sometimes, after I got home—” He rubbed at the back of his neck, stalling because what he was about to tell her was going to sound crazy—even to a shrink. “I’d swear I saw one of the guys from my platoon. But that’s impossible because they are all dead.”
Luna’s expression softened immediately. “They could be hallucinations.”
He nodded. “I figured. I saw him more when I was drinking too much and not sleeping.” His jaw tightened slightly.
“I thought I saw Gunner a few times.” That name still hit like a knife to the ribs.
Gunner was his friend—his brother, and he was dead because Rocco stayed behind that night instead of going into town with the rest of them.
At least, that’s what he’d believed for years.
Luna touched his chest gently. “You never told me that part.”
“Wasn’t exactly proud of it.” He huffed out his laugh. “I mean, how do you tell someone that you believe that you’re seeing a dead person? I already felt crazy; I didn’t want to sound it too.”
“Rocco—” Her voice softened further. “Trauma does strange things to the brain.”
“Yeah,” he muttered. “I know.” The thing was, those moments never felt fake—not really.
He’d swear he saw Gunner standing across streets or disappearing around corners more than once during those first bad months after he came home.
But therapy helped, and boxing helped. Hell, Luna helped, and eventually it stopped—until now.
Rocco looked out the window one more time as that same uneasy feeling crawled slowly up his spine again. The sensation was unmistakable, and one that he couldn’t seem to shake. Luna’s phone ringing broke the silence.
She sighed dramatically. “Please don’t be, Gia,” she whispered more to herself than to him. Rocco managed a small grin as she grabbed the phone from the nightstand. “It’s Gia,” she groaned.
“Just answer it,” he said. “It could be important.”
Luna answered reluctantly. “You'd better be dying.” Gia’s loud laugh echoed through the phone enough that even Rocco could hear it.
“Nope. But you disappeared last night, and your car’s still at the gym,” Gia said. “I’m just checking to make sure that you haven’t been kidnapped or something.”
Luna glanced toward Rocco briefly before smirking. “I got distracted.”
“Gross,” Gia said immediately. “Anyway, I need you to cover an afternoon appointment because—”
The rest of the conversation faded into background noise as Rocco’s attention shifted back toward the window.
He noticed movement again, just across the street this time.
It was a man standing near the sidewalk wearing a dark hoodie and sunglasses despite there being no morning sun.
He seemed to be watching the building—Luna’s building.
Rocco’s stomach dropped hard because he thought for sure that he recognized the guy.
His posture and height, even from this distance—No, that wasn’t possible.
His pulse started pounding violently as the man slowly lifted his head toward the apartment window where Rocco was watching him and smiled. Rocco stopped breathing because he knew that face. Hell, he knew it better than his own because he saw it every night in his nightmares.
“Gunner,” he whispered.
The phone slipped from Luna’s hand and hit the bed as she turned sharply toward him.
“What?” But Rocco barely heard her, because across the street, the man he buried years ago gave him a mocking little salute before disappearing around the corner.
He knew then and there that Gunner wasn’t a hallucination; he was real.