“You’re thinking too loud again,” Luna murmured quietly.
His mouth twitched despite everything. “How the hell do you always know?”
“Because you get this look.” She touched between his brows lightly. “Like you’re carrying the entire world by yourself.” If only she knew. Rocco covered her hand with his gently before pulling it away from his face and pressing a kiss against her knuckles. The intimacy of the gesture surprised both of them a little, because it felt normal—dangerously normal. Like they weren’t in the middle of a nightmare.
Luca made a gagging sound from across the room. “Jesus Christ.”
Tony grinned immediately. “They’re adorable.”
“Shut up,” Rocco muttered. Luna actually laughed softly beside him, and hearing that sound in the middle of all this chaos nearly wrecked him. Because even now, she still found ways to pull him back toward something human.
Thunder cracked again overhead, and the cabin lights flickered. Everybody froze. Rocco immediately moved Luna behind him. The lights flickered harder this time before plunging the cabin into darkness again.
“Generator’s gone,” Jonesy muttered.
“Convenient,” Tony said darkly. Rain hammered the roof harder outside, as the wind tore violently through the trees now, branches scraping against the cabin walls. Rocco’s skin prickled instantly. Something was wrong.
“Quiet,” he ordered softly. The cabin fell silent immediately. Even Luna stopped moving behind him. Rocco listened carefullyover the storm, and then he heard it—a soft creak, and it wasn’t outside. His blood went ice cold.
“Upstairs,” Luca whispered. Another creak sounded overhead—slow and deliberate, like someone shifting their weight carefully across old floorboards. Luna grabbed the back of Rocco’s shirt instantly. Nobody should be upstairs. It would have been impossible for anyone to get up there.
Jonesy rose from his chair slowly. “There’s no second entrance.” Rocco’s pulse kicked violently, and his stomach dropped.
“Storm cellar,” he muttered.
Tony swore immediately. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
Jonesy’s expression darkened. “Forgot about that old entrance.” Another floorboard creaked above them, moving closer now. Rocco drew his gun silently while every protective instinct inside him went feral because Gunner wasn’t outside anymore. He was inside the cabin, hunting them.
A low laugh echoed faintly from upstairs but was distorted by the storm. That laugh was unmistakable, though.
“Missed you, boys,” Gunner called softly. Luna’s breathing hitched behind him, and Rocco’s entire body tightened, because hearing Gunner’s voice inside the cabin changed everything. This wasn’t intimidation anymore. This was an escalation, and judging by the shaky exhale Tony let out near the window, they all knew it.
Another slow creak crossed overhead, followed by silence. It was the kind of silence soldiers learned to fear. Rocco looked toward the staircase at the end of the hall. It was dark and narrow—the perfect kill zone. Gunner would know that too.
“He wants us to come up there,” Luca muttered.
“Yeah,” Rocco said quietly.
Luna touched his arm immediately. “Don’t.” He looked back at her, and fear flashed across her face again. It was real fear this time, not just for herself, but for him, and that almost made him weak, because no one had looked at him like they were terrified to lose him before. Not in a long time.
Rocco stepped closer to her automatically, lowering his voice. “I need you to stay with Jonesy.”
“No,” she said.
“Luna—” he started.
“No.” Her voice shook slightly. “Every time you walk away from me lately, someone starts shooting.”
Tony snorted softly despite the tension. “Fair point.” Rocco would’ve laughed if his chest didn’t hurt so damn bad. Upstairs, something heavy dragged slowly across the floor, and then Gunner spoke again. Only now, his voice sounded almost cheerful.
“You finally found somebody worth bleeding for, brother.” Rocco’s vision flashed red instantly because that wasn’t a threat anymore. It was a promise, and one that Rocco knew Gunner would be able to keep.
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.
