Chapter 17
LUNA
Luna had officially crossed into the part of her life that no amount of psychology training could prepare her for.
Because nothing in graduate school covered armed ex-soldiers crawling through hidden storm cellars during thunderstorms, and absolutely nothing prepared her for the look on Rocco’s face right now.
He had become a pure predator—cold, focused, and completely terrifying.
He stood in the middle of the dark cabin with a gun in his hand while thunder rattled the walls around them, and Luna realized something that made her chest ache. This man had spent years trying to become gentle again, and Gunner was dragging him backward one threat at a time.
“You finally found somebody worth bleeding for, brother.” The words hung in the air like poison. Luna saw Rocco absorb them and saw the exact second something dangerous flickered behind his eyes. It wasn’t fear, but acceptance—like some part of him had already decided this would end violently.
“No,” she whispered before she could stop herself.
Rocco’s head turned toward her immediately.
That hard expression softened slightly the second he looked at her, and somehow that made this worse because she knew now that she was the only thing pulling him back from the edge.
Another floorboard creaked upstairs. Gunner wasn’t rushing.
He was fucking with them and was enjoying it.
Luca moved closer to the staircase carefully. “We need to clear the second floor.”
Tony shook his head instantly. “Hell no. That’s exactly what he wants.”
“He’s already inside,” Luca snapped quietly. “What’s the alternative?” Silence followed, because there wasn’t one, but they weren’t going to like it.
The storm battered the cabin harder outside, rain slamming violently against the roof while the old structure groaned around them. And upstairs, Gunner laughed again.
“You know what I missed most?” he called down casually. “The way you used to look before missions.” Rocco’s grip tightened around his gun, and Luna noticed immediately.
“We trusted you,” Gunner continued. “Remember that?” This man knew exactly where to cut Rocco. Luna moved toward him carefully and touched his arm again. His body relaxed beneath her hand by maybe half an inch, but she felt it.
“You stay with me,” she whispered. His eyes dropped to hers, and for one terrifying second, Luna saw just how exhausted he really was. Not physically, but emotionally, like Gunner had ripped open every wound Rocco spent years trying to stitch shut.
“I’m trying,” he admitted quietly. That nearly broke her, because the honesty in his voice sounded raw and fragile. Rocco wasn’t just fighting Gunner anymore; he was fighting himself.
Upstairs, something crashed loudly against the floor, and Tony cursed. “What the hell is he doing?”
Jonesy’s face hardened. “Trying to force us to move.”
Luca looked toward Rocco. “We wait too long, and he controls the whole damn cabin.” Rocco nodded. The military calculations were already running in his head. Luna hated how naturally he slipped into combat mode, and she wondered if maybe he hated it too.
He suddenly looked down at her and said quietly, “You should’ve never met me.” The words hit like a slap, and Luna stared at him in disbelief.
“Absolutely not,” she spat.
Rocco’s jaw flexed. “Luna—”
“No.” Her voice sharpened instantly. “You don’t get to decide what I regret.” Another loud thud sounded upstairs, closer this time. He was almost directly above them, and everybody tensed, but Luna kept staring at Rocco.
“You don’t get to act like loving you is some terrible thing that happened to me,” Luna breathed. The room went still. Even Tony stopped moving, and Rocco looked genuinely stunned, like no one had ever said something like that to him before. Maybe nobody had.
Luna stepped closer despite the danger surrounding them.
“You hear me?” she whispered fiercely. “I do not regret you.” Pain cracked across his face so quickly it nearly undid her, because underneath all the rage and guilt and violence, Rocco genuinely believed he ruined everything he touched.
Suddenly, she understood why he kept trying to push her away whenever things got dangerous.
He thought protecting her meant leaving her.
Another creak echoed from upstairs, followed by Gunner’s footsteps running furiously down the hallway. Everybody reacted instantly. “Move!” Tony barked.
Rocco grabbed Luna hard around the waist and shoved her behind the kitchen island just as a gunshot exploded through the ceiling.
Wood rained down everywhere, and Luna screamed involuntarily as another shot cracked through the floorboards above them.
“He’s moving!” Luca shouted. Thunder boomed overhead simultaneously, shaking the cabin violently.
Rocco crouched in front of her immediately, shielding her body completely with his own.
“Stay down,” he ordered as gunfire erupted upstairs again, followed by silence—dead silence.
Luna’s pulse pounded so hard she could barely hear anything else.
Rocco listened carefully, every muscle in his body taut enough to snap as a slow creak sounded directly behind them.
Gunner wasn’t upstairs anymore. He was inside the kitchen.
Luna turned instinctively toward the sound and froze.
A muddy combat boot stood half-visible beneath the cellar door near the pantry.
Oh God. He had circled back down to the storm cellar.
Rocco saw it the same second she did. The look on his face turned absolutely lethal, and all Luna could do was watch it happen.
Luna had never seen death on someone’s face before—not real death.
Not the abstract kind people talked about in offices and grief counseling sessions.
She had seen sadness, trauma, and even depression.
She witnessed survivors who were barely hanging on by a thread, but the look on Rocco’s face when he saw that boot near the cellar door told her everything.
That was a man fully prepared to kill, and somehow, that terrified her less than the thought of losing him.
Everything happened at once. Rocco moved so fast that Luna barely tracked it, shoving her lower behind the kitchen island while raising his gun toward the pantry.
“Back!” he barked. Luca spun toward the cellar entrance instantly while Tony moved around the opposite side of the kitchen.
The three of them were strategically trapping him.
The storm outside roared loud enough to shake the cabin walls, thunder cracking violently overhead while adrenaline slammed through Luna’s veins hard enough to make her dizzy.
The cellar door creaked open wider, and a muddy hand appeared first, followed by Gunner’s low, broken laughter.
It was familiar enough to make Rocco look physically ill.
“Still got good instincts,” Gunner said softly from below.
“Knew you would.” Luna couldn’t fully see him yet from her angle behind the island, only pieces of him—dark clothes, mud-covered combat boots, and a hand gripping the cellar doorframe, but somehow not being able to see him made it worse.
It almost felt like she was watching a monster slowly crawling out of the dark.
“Get out of here,” Rocco snarled.
“No.” Gunner sounded amused again. “I don’t think I will.
” Tony muttered a curse under his breath, and Luca’s grip tightened on his weapon, but nobody fired—not yet, because Gunner was still partially concealed below the floor line.
She knew that somewhere beneath all his rage, Rocco still loved him.
Luna realized that suddenly with painful clarity.
It was the kind of love forged between soldiers who survived hell together, and that was what made this so horrifying to watch.
Rocco wasn’t just facing an enemy; he was facing grief wearing a familiar face.
“You know what pissed me off the most?” Gunner asked conversationally.
The cellar door creaked another inch wider, and Luna finally caught sight of his face.
Her stomach turned violently. Rocco had been right about him.
Gunner looked destroyed. Not physically—though scars lined one side of his jaw, but mentally.
She could see it in his eyes. He looked like something inside him had snapped years ago and never healed correctly.
“You so easily let me go,” Gunner continued quietly.
Rocco’s jaw flexed violently. “I thought you were dead.”
“You accepted my death too easily,” he said. The words hit like a gunshot. Luna saw Rocco absorb them again, guilt flashing across his face before anger crushed it back down.
“You think I didn’t mourn you?” Rocco snapped.
Gunner laughed bitterly. “You got over my death, eventually.”
“No.” The answer came instantly. “I survived it, with a hell of a lot of help.” Silence followed that, because even Gunner hadn’t expected that answer. Luna saw it in the brief flicker across his face. Pain—real pain. It quickly vanished beneath his instability again.
“And now you’ve got her.” His eyes shifted suddenly toward Luna.
Every protective instinct in Rocco seemed to detonate instantly. “Don’t look at her.” The warning in his voice made Luna’s pulse jump.
Gunner tilted his head slowly, curious and predatory. “She makes you seem softer around the edges, brother. You feel safe with her, but you’re not. Does she know who you are and what you’re capable of?”
“No,” Luna said before Rocco could answer. Everybody looked at her, including Gunner. Luna slowly stood from behind the island despite Rocco’s immediate look of alarm.
“Luna,” he warned quietly. But she kept her eyes on Gunner.
“He makes me feel safe,” she insisted. The entire cabin went still. Gunner stared at her silently and then laughed in disbelief.
“Safe?” He looked toward Rocco. “That’s laughable. You do know that he’s a killer, right?”
Rocco stepped slightly in front of her. “Last warning,” he growled.
Gunner ignored him completely now, his eyes locked on Luna with unsettling intensity. “You know what he was over there?” Gunner asked softly.
“Yes,” Luna answered honestly. “And I know who he is now.” Rocco physically flinched beside her, like hearing someone choose him despite his past still surprised him.
Gunner noticed too. “Oh,” he murmured quietly. “That’s bad.”
Luna frowned slightly. “What is?”
Gunner smiled then, and the expression chilled her blood. “Because now I understand why he’d kill for you.”
Rocco moved before she could even breathe. “Enough!” The roar of his voice felt like it shook the entire kitchen. He was pure rage, and for the first time since arriving at the cabin, Gunner looked genuinely startled.
Rocco stood in front of Luna, completely now, his chest heaving hard while every ounce of restraint inside him strained visibly.
Luna touched his back lightly, trying to ground him.
She needed to keep him tethered, and Gunner seemed to notice that.
He saw exactly what she was doing for Rocco, and his expression darkened instantly.
“You replaced your platoon with her,” he whispered. Rocco stared at him like his heart was being ripped out in real time.
“No,” he said quietly. “I finally found a reason to keep living after my platoon was gone.”
Gunner’s face twisted violently—not with anger this time, but with hurt, and suddenly Luna understood the terrifying truth. Gunner hadn’t come here just to destroy Rocco; he came here because some broken part of him still wanted his brother back.
“He missed you,” she whispered to Rocco. Luna didn’t miss his gasp or the way that Rocco’s whole body tensed at her realization. But if she was right, this changed everything.