Chapter 20
ROCCO
“You brought her straight into the graveyard with the rest of us.” The words hit harder than the bullets, because deep down, that was exactly what Rocco feared. Every second since Gunner showed up, one thought had been tearing him apart from the inside—Luna was only in danger because she loved him.
Rain hammered the cabin while Mercer’s laughter echoed through the woods, cold and broken and furious. And for one terrifying second, Rocco almost believed him. Then Luna grabbed the front of his shirt hard enough to yank his attention toward her.
“No.” Just one word, but she said it with absolute certainty. Rocco stared down at her as glass scattered around them from the gunfire outside. The storm raged through the mountains, and Luna still looked at him like he was worth fighting for.
“You hear me?” she said fiercely. “None of this is your fault.”
Mercer barked out another laugh from outside.
“She still thinks you’re the hero.” Something inside Rocco finally snapped into place.
Not rage, but clarity, because Mercer and Gunner were both trapped in the same place—the war, the betrayal, the grief.
They’d let it become their entire identities.
And Rocco almost had too—until Luna. And until he found boxing, and Jonesy dragged him into a gym and forced him to keep living.
Until Tony and Luca became brothers in a different kind of battlefield.
Until someone finally looked at him and saw more than damage.
Rocco slowly rose to his feet. “Roc—” Tony started.
But he shook his head. “No more hiding.” Mercer immediately fired another shot through the cabin, but Rocco didn’t flinch, because suddenly he understood something important.
Mercer wanted them to be afraid. He wanted them trapped in the same endless war he still lived in, and Rocco was done giving him that power.
He looked toward Gunner. “You wanna make this right?” Gunner looked stunned by the question. Rainwater dripped from his hair while guilt and grief battled across his face.
“I don’t know how,” he admitted quietly. Rocco nodded. That might have been the first truly honest thing Gunner had said all night.
“Then help me end it,” Rocco said. Silence filled the cabin as Gunner nodded.
Outside, Mercer shouted again. “You really trust him after all this?”
Rocco’s jaw tightened. “No,” he answered honestly. “But I remember who he used to be.” That hit Gunner hard enough that he looked away.
Tony moved beside Rocco immediately. “What’s the plan?” His old instincts returned instantly, only this time it didn’t feel like war. It felt like survival.
“Mercer’s focused on the front,” Rocco said quietly. “Storm cellar exits near the east tree line.”
Luca grinned grimly. “Now we’re talking.”
Jonesy crossed his arms. “I’m too old for this shit.”
“You’re staying with Luna,” Rocco said firmly.
Luna’s eyes narrowed instantly. “Absolutely not.” He turned toward her. And Christ—he loved this woman. He loved her stubbornness and her fire. Rocco loved the fact that she’d walked straight into his worst nightmare and refused to let go of him anyway.
Rocco cupped her face gently despite the chaos around them. “Baby,” he said softly, “I need to know you’re safe.”
Emotion flashed across her face so fast it nearly wrecked him.
“You'd better come back to me.” The words landed right in the center of his chest. Rocco kissed her hard before he could stop himself.
Rain crashed against the cabin around them while thunder shook the walls, but for one second, all he could focus on was her.
Luna kissed him back like she already understood this might change everything.
When he finally pulled away, her forehead rested against his. “I love you,” she whispered. Rocco froze, closing his eyes briefly because nothing had ever sounded so beautiful.
“You picked a hell of a time to say that,” he murmured roughly.
A shaky laugh escaped her. “It felt emotionally appropriate.” Even now, she could make him smile. That alone was enough reason to survive this. Rocco touched his forehead to hers one last time before turning back toward the others.
“Let’s end this,” he growled. The storm swallowed them whole outside as rain soaked through Rocco’s clothes instantly.
He, Tony, Luca, and Gunner moved through the woods behind the cabin—silent and focused.
For a moment, it almost felt like another deployment.
Except this time, he knew exactly what he was fighting for.
Mercer’s position became obvious fast. Lightening flashes lit up the trees near a rocky ridge overlooking the cabin. “He’s dug in,” Luca muttered.
“Yeah,” Rocco answered quietly.
Gunner’s breathing roughened beside him. “Mercer was always the best shot.”
Rocco glanced toward him briefly. “Better than me?”
A faint ghost of a smile touched Gunner’s lips. “Nobody was better than you.” The old compliment hit strangely hard, because once upon a time, they’d really been brothers.
Mercer fired again toward the cabin and then paused. He was listening for any movement and was waiting them out. Rocco signaled silently for them to split up. Tony and Luca moved left, and Rocco and Gunner circled right.
Rain masked their footsteps as they closed in.
They were just behind him when Mercer saw them.
“Traitors!” he roared. Gunfire exploded instantly.
Rocco hit the ground hard behind a fallen log while bullets tore through branches overhead.
Gunner fired back beside him as Mercer laughed wildly through the storm.
“They buried us alive, and you still defend them?” Mercer shouted.
“We’re not defending anybody!” Rocco shouted back.
“You’re fighting for your new life, Roc. You were handed a second chance when the rest of us were left to die.” Mercer was wrong. The life Rocco had now—he had built that himself with blood and grief and therapy and fists and Luna’s stubborn love. Nobody gave him that—he earned it.
Mercer fired again. Gunner suddenly lunged up beside him, returning fire. “Move!” he shouted. Rocco sprinted forward instantly while Tony and Luca closed in from the opposite side. Mercer realized too late that he was surrounded. His attention split, and that was all it took.
Tony tackled him first as Luca ripped the rifle away. Mercer fought like a wild animal beneath them, screaming curses and grief and rage into the storm, and then suddenly, he stopped, because Gunner stepped forward.
Mercer froze, staring at him. “You too?” Mercer whispered brokenly.
Gunner looked devastated. “We deserved better than this.”
Mercer laughed bitterly. “This is all we had left.”
Gunner slowly lowered his weapon. “No,” he said quietly. “It isn’t.” Mercer’s face crumpled. Years of rage finally cracking beneath exhaustion, and for the first time all night, the fight left him.
Three Months Later
Rocco stood outside Luna’s office, watching snow fall softly over the street. He felt peace—real peace, for the first time in a damn long time.
Mercer was in federal custody alongside several others connected to the cover-up overseas.
The military investigation reopening had become national news.
Gunner was getting treatment through a Veteran’s rehabilitation program two states away.
Recovery wasn’t easy; it probably never would be, but he was trying.
And Rocco finally understood something important about survival—that you didn’t heal by pretending the past never happened.
You healed by choosing to keep living anyway.
The office door opened suddenly. “You planning to stand out there dramatically all day?” Luna asked. Rocco grinned immediately. God, he loved her. She walked toward him, bundled in a dark coat and scarf, still looking at him like he hung the damn moon.
“How was your day?” she asked.
“Better now,” he said.
Luna rolled her eyes affectionately. “That was disgustingly smooth.”
“Been practicing,” he teased. She laughed softly before stepping into his arms automatically. Home—that’s what being with her felt like.
Luna tilted her head up slightly. “You okay?” Rocco looked down at the woman who saved his life without ever firing a single shot, and smiled.
“Yeah,” he said honestly. “I finally am. I’ve got the woman I love, my friends, and today, Jonesy told me that he got me a fight.”
“He did?” she asked.
“Yep, in Vegas. It’s a big deal, and I was hoping that you’d want to go with me,” he said.
“I’d love to go to your fight,” she said. “After all, I’m kind of your trainer,” she teased.
He chuckled, “Just don’t tell that to Jonesy,” he said.
“I’m so proud of you,” she said.
“I’m proud of both of us, honey,” he said.
They had come a long way from the shell of a man he used to be, and the woman who saved him.
They were a team now, a unit. He had found the woman who accepted him—all of him, and he was never going to be that same loner that he was when he came back from the war, ever again.