Page 21 of Giving Up the Ring
“No shit,” Luca muttered, looking at the text message over Tony’s shoulder.
Luna crossed her arms tightly over herself. “Okay, can someone explain why all of you suddenly look like you’re preparing for war?”
Jonesy answered first. “Because we are.”
Silence filled the apartment, and Rocco scrubbed a hand over his face. “Jonesy?—”
“No.” The older man pointed at him. “You listen to me for once.” His expression hardened. “I trained fighters for thirty damn years, kid. I know what haunted men look like.” Rocco went still, because haunted was a perfect way to describe how he was feeling right now. Jonesy nodded toward the phone in Tony’s hand. “That ain’t grief texting you.” His jaw clenched. “That’s someone who is obsessed with you, and it’s real.”
Luna paled slightly beside him. Tony looked up from the phone. “We need to figure out where Gunner’s been all this time,” he said.
“And why he waited until now to come forward,” Luca added grimly. Rocco’s stomach twisted violently because he already knew the answer to that second part—Luna. The second Rocco finally found something good, something worth protecting. Gunner showed up. Suddenly, the text message felt less like revenge and more like a threat.
Rocco hadn’t felt this kind of tension since his deployment. It wasn’t his normal anxiety or panic. He just felt—ready. His body recognized it immediately—that sharp edge under his skin that told him something bad was coming.
Tony stood near the apartment window looking outside while Luca checked the hallway through the peephole every few minutes, like he expected Gunner to kick the damn door in. Jonesy sat in one of Luna’s kitchen chairs, looking entirely toocalm for the situation. That worried Rocco more than anything, because Jonesy only got quiet when things were serious.
Luna stood beside the counter with her arms crossed across her chest, watching all of them like she was trying to piece together a puzzle nobody had explained to her properly yet. And honestly, Rocco didn’t know how to explain this either, because none of it made sense.
“You sure it was him?” Luca asked finally.
Rocco’s jaw tightened instantly. “Yeah,” he answered with no hesitation or uncertainty.
Tony glanced back at him. “Could’ve been somebody who looked like him.”
“No.” Rocco shook his head. “It was Gunner.” The room fell quiet again, because they all heard the absolute certainty in his voice.
Luna looked between all of them before finally speaking. “Okay. Let’s say it really is him.” She swallowed slightly. “Why would he do this instead of just contacting you?” That question had been eating Rocco alive since the text came through, because she was right. If Gunner survived, why disappear for years? Why stalk him now? And why the threats?
Jonesy leaned forward slowly, resting his forearms on his knees. “Trauma changes people.” Rocco looked toward the older man. Jonesy’s expression stayed grim. “You boys came home different after your fights,” he said quietly. “War’s worse.” Tony nodded silently beside the window, while Luca crossed his arms tighter around herself, because they all understood that. Every fighter carried damage, but in soldiers, that kind of damage sat deeper.
Rocco rubbed at his chest absently, where anxiety was starting to build pressure again. “Maybe he thinks I left him,” he muttered.
Luna’s head snapped toward him immediately. “Rocco?—”
“No.” He laughed bitterly. “Think about it. If he survived and nobody came back for him—” His stomach twisted violently, because God, what if Gunner had been waiting for help that never came? What if Rocco really had abandoned him without knowing it?
Tony swore quietly under his breath. “You didn’t know he was alive.”
“But he doesn’t know that,” Rocco shot back. The room fell silent because they all knew how easy it was for grief to rot into anger. Especially when trauma got mixed into it.
Luna moved toward him slowly, stopping right in front of him. “Look at me.” He did—mostly because he always did when she asked.
“You are not responsible for what happened over there.” Rocco’s jaw flexed hard enough to hurt. That was easy for her to say because she hadn’t lived it. She hadn’t watched body bags come home or spent years wondering why he survived when better men didn’t.
Luna touched his face gently, like she could somehow feel every ugly thought running through his head. “You hear me?” she asked softly.
Before he could answer, Tony suddenly straightened near the window. “Hold up.” Every muscle in Rocco’s body locked instantly. Tony stepped sideways slightly so he couldn’t be seen. “Black SUV across the street.”
Luca moved immediately toward the opposite side of the window. “Been there long?” he asked.
“A couple of minutes,” he said. Rocco crossed the apartment fast enough that Luna cursed softly behind him. The SUV sat half-hidden beneath a tree line near the curb with its engine running. It had dark-tinted windows, but he was sure that whoever was inside it was watching them. He could feel it in his gut.
“Fuck,” Luca muttered.
Jonesy stood slowly from the kitchen table. “You armed?” Rocco nodded. Jonesy grunted approvingly. “Good.”
Luna looked horrified. “Wait—what?”
