His jaw tightened. “You don’t know that.”
“Then we’ll figure it out—together.” The certainty in her own voice surprised even her, but she meant it. Because, regardless of whether Gunner was real or some trauma response, Rocco needed help through this; he wasn’t going through this alone.
Rocco’s hands settled automatically on her waist, grounding himself with her touch. “I know what I saw,” he whispered. Luna believed that he believed it, and honestly, something in her gut was starting to twist, too. Because the fear in Rocco’s eyes didn’tlook imagined—it looked instinctive, like some deeply buried survival response had just snapped awake again.
Her phone buzzed loudly on the bed, making both of them tense. Rocco turned immediately toward the sound. Luna grabbed the phone quickly, her stomach dropping when she saw the screen. The call was from an unknown number and went straight to voicemail. A cold feeling slid slowly down her spine.
“Probably spam,” she muttered, though she didn’t sound convincing even to herself. Rocco watched her carefully now. Focused and dangerously calm in a way she suddenly understood wasn’t calm at all. It was military control—the kind people learned when panic could get them killed.
The phone buzzed again. It was a text message this time, and Luna opened it automatically and froze as a photo filled the screen. It was taken from outside her apartment building—her bedroom window visible in the shot. It was taken this morning, because she could see Rocco standing beside the window. Her pulse stopped because below the picture was one sentence.
You should’ve died with the rest of us.
Rocco went completely still beside her as he read the message with her. This time, he didn’t panic. Instead, he seemed pissed as he took the phone from her and looked at the photo. “Fuck.”
“How did he get my number?” she asked.
“Isn’t your cell number on your business cards?” he asked. He was right—it was. She liked her patients to have access to her if they needed her. She felt safe giving them her personal number because her patients were all veterans, and most of them knewboundaries. There were a few who used her number just to call and talk to her for a while, until whatever crisis they were going through passed, and she liked being able to be there for them.
“It is,” she breathed. He handed her phone back to her, and she immediately tossed it onto the bed as though it had offended her in some way.
“Maybe he called your office and got your number. But how would he know that we’re together?” he asked.
She huffed out her laugh. “Well, we certainly haven’t been hiding the fact that we’re dating. I mean, we did go out to dinner, and then, there was that whole kissing thing at the gym last night. If he’s been following you, he probably would have been able to pick up on the fact that we’re together, Rocco.”
Luna quickly crossed the room and pulled her curtains shut, not that it would do her any good now. If this were Gunner, then he already knew that Rocco was with her, in her apartment. But the idea of someone spying on them, and taking photos of them while they were in the privacy of her bedroom, made her stomach churn.
“We need to call the police,” she insisted.
“For what?” he asked.
“To tell them that you have a stalker, and that he’s made a death threat against you,” she said, pointing back to the phone on her bed.
“No, he said that I should have died with the rest of my platoon,” Rocco reminded. “He didn’t threaten to kill me.”
“It’s the same thing,” Luna insisted.
“No, it’s not,” he countered. “Listen, let’s just sit down and think this through. Then, we can call the cops. I just need a second to get my head on straight,” he said. She knew that this had to be sending him into a tailspin, and her jumping to the conclusion that someone wanted him dead wasn’t helping. But the idea of anyone thinking that Rocco should have died with his platoon made her world spin a little off kilter.
Rocco seemed to sense how upset she was. He crossed the room and wrapped her in his arms. Here, she was the one who should have been comforting him, and he was holding her. “We’re going to get through this, remember.”
She nodded, “Together,” she added.
ROCCO
Rocco had seen dead bodies. He’d witnessed his friends bleeding out on dirt roads overseas and men blown apart right in front of him. He’d held people while they died, but somehow, that text message shook him harder than all of it. Because Gunner wasn’t supposed to be alive, and if he was alive, then everything Rocco thought he knew about that night was wrong.
Luna still stood frozen beside him, clutching the phone while the color slowly drained from her face. Rocco took the phone carefully from her hand and stared at the picture again. His chest tightened painfully. The angle, the timing—whoever took it had been outside long enough to watch them. A dangerous calm settled over him instantly—the kind he hadn’t felt since deployment, and he felt an overpowering need to protect her at all costs. Rocco knew that going to the police, as Luna suggested, wouldn’t help them at all. Right now, he needed to get her out of her apartment and somewhere safe.
“Pack a bag,” he said quietly.
Luna blinked at him. “What?”
“You’re not staying here,” he said. Rationally, he knew maybe he was overreacting, but instincts like his existed for a reason, and every instinct he had was screaming that something was wrong—very wrong.
“Rocco—”
“Luna.” His voice sharpened slightly. “Please, just do as I ask.” That stopped her—not because he raised his voice, but because she seemed to hear the fear underneath it. Real fear. Luna nodded before moving toward the bedroom, giving up any argument that she might have. The second she disappeared down the hallway, Rocco grabbed his phone and hit Tony’s number. Tony answered on the second ring.
