Rocco and Mandy: A Red Team Wedding Novella (Book #6.5)(4)

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Rocco entered Blade’s house from the gym. Raw from his own thoughts, he wasn’t in a good headspace to be around the others. What else was f*cking new? He decided to change into some workout gear and hit the weights hard until the house settled down.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t so lucky. Kit entered from the opposite end of the gym hallway. His hard blue eyes locked on Rocco’s. And he was pissed. Kit didn’t stop walking until they were face to face.

Rocco waited for Kit to break his deadly silence. It didn’t take long. “Jesus f*cking Christ, Rocco. You ever give a thought to anyone else around you?”

“Why is my illness about everyone but me?”

“Because you don’t live in a black hole. Everything you do affects those around you.”

Rocco laughed, because really, he did live in a black hole.

“That funny?”

Rocco shoved Kit out of his way. “Get off me.”

Kit pushed back, slamming him against the wall. “Here’s how it’s gonna go. I made an appointment for you to see Dr. Kimble. 0900 Monday.”

Rocco ground his teeth. “Been there, done that. Not interested in more shrinks.”

“It ain’t an option, feel me?”

“He doesn’t have clearance to hear my story.”

“Use generalities. He’s a vet. He’ll get it.”

“They were vets, too, at Walter Reed, for all the f*cking good it did me.” Rocco sighed. “Kit, I just need time.” He pushed Kit back. “And a little space.”

“We tried it your way—we gave you time and space. All it did was swallow a little more of you.”

“Mandy say something to you?”

“That’s a stupid question. The answer’s no. She never complains, but she doesn’t have to for me to see what you’re doing to her.” He ducked his head a minute then lifted it and stared at Rocco. “You know what I think? I think you took that time and space we gave you and went on an unguided trek into the center of your psyche. You got yourself f*cking lost. It’s time to ask for directions, bro. You need a goddamned sherpa to get you outta there.”

Rocco shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. Kit’s description of his situation was a little too close to the mark. “I’ll go.”

“Damn right you will. Monday. 0900.”





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It was dark when Mandy woke. The threads of her dream slowly receded. She lay quietly, trying to get herself to go back to sleep. She checked the clock. It was only eleven. She’d just been asleep for a couple of hours and now was wide-awake.

She slipped out of bed and pulled on her robe, then walked barefoot to check on Zavi. He was still sleeping soundly. Deciding a cup of chamomile tea might just be the trick to getting back to sleep, she went down the back stairs in the suite of rooms she shared with Rocco and Zavi. She’d just gotten to the first floor when she heard voices coming from her brother and his wife’s suite. Kit’s bedroom door was open.

She turned toward the kitchen, not wanting to disturb them. She heard Ivy giggle. And then, oh my God, Kit started to sing—a lullaby about meeting his baby and showing her the world, finding answers for all the questions he knew she’d have.

It was the sweetest thing Mandy had ever heard. And despite all of her best intentions, she found herself rooted in place to hear the rest of the song.

What a difference between her brother and Rocco. Rocco was avoiding her. He was rarely there at bedtime to put Zavi down for the night. He spent evenings in the gym. Exercise—or being physically exhausted—was key to his recovery, but he worked out so long and hard that she was usually asleep before he came to bed…if he even came to bed at all anymore.

They were living separate lives together.

It hurt.

And now, seeing how much Kit was in love with Ivy and his growing family was like rubbing salt in the wound.

Mandy forced herself to put one foot in front of the other and move out of earshot. In the kitchen, she set the kettle on the stove, then retrieved the box of chamomile tea and a jar of honey from the cupboard. She poured the hot water into her mug, hearing again the sweet lullaby her brother sang to his wife and baby. This time, she couldn’t stop the tears.

There was a commotion in the hall; Val and Angel were heading toward the garage, laughing about something that had happened at Winchester’s during a previous visit, which was where they were headed, she assumed. She kept super still, hoping they’d go on down the hall to the garage without seeing her. She wasn’t that lucky. They came into the kitchen, their laughter stopping as they caught sight of her. She wiped her cheeks, then smiled up at them.

“What’s this? Tears?” Val asked.

Mandy forced a laugh. “I’m pregnant. Of course tears.”

The two men exchanged a look, then Val came over and pulled her in for a hug. Worst mistake ever. It opened the door for straight-up sobbing—ugly, snorting, coughing crying. Mandy didn’t hold back. She was only so strong.

Val didn’t scold or tell her to stop. He just told her to get it all out. “Poor little ginger,” he said as he rocked her a little.

When the worst of it had passed, Angel pushed a wad of tissues toward her. Mandy blew her nose and wiped her face.