Rocco and Mandy: A Red Team Wedding Novella (Book #6.5)(9)

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Rocco pounded the heavy bag in a rapid succession of right and left punches. Every time he slowed down, he saw the way Mandy had looked at him earlier when he’d put his boy to bed. He hadn’t heard her come into Zavi’s room, but she’d been there to catch the lame excuse he’d given his son about why he couldn’t stick around for a story. Hell, even his four-year-old had seen through it.

Rocco picked up his rhythm. He’d caught her expression in the seconds before he turned off the light in Zavi’s room. Hurt, anger, worry, sorrow…every human emotion had been tangled up in her green eyes. She’d turned the light back on, picked up a book, then scooted next to Zavi on the bed.

It was good they had each other. Damn good. It would make what he had to do a little easier.

He pounded the bag. Someone came into the gym, flipping on all the fluorescent lights. Rocco squinted as he looked up. “Shut ’em off, Angel.”

“Kinda hard to use the equipment if you can’t see it.”

Rocco had propped the door to the men’s locker room open, letting its light spill into the room. “Got enough light.”

“Yeah. Now you have a whole lot more.” Angel sat on one of the benches along the wall behind Rocco.

Rocco put a fist against the heavy bag to steady it as he turned to look at Angel. “You want the room? You can have it.”

“I don’t want the f*cking room. I came to talk to you.”

“Not in the mood.” He tugged one of the wrist ties loose with his teeth, then held it between his arm and body and pulled his hand free. After removing the other glove, he put them away in the equipment shelf.

“Oh well.” Angel held up the bullet between his thumb and forefinger. “You got the gun that goes with this?”

Rocco saw the light shine on the metal casing of a .45 cartridge. “Where’d you get that?”

“Don’t matter.”

“Mandy give it to you?”

“Maybe. Maybe I went snooping. Where’s the gun, Rocco?”

“What difference does it make? If I were suicidal, do you think a gun’s my only way out?”

Angel got to his feet. “Where’s the f*cking gun?”

“You know what? Keep the goddamned bullet. There’s more where that came from.”

In a flash, Angel came at him. He caught Rocco’s arm and twisted it up behind him as he slammed him against the wall. “Are you suicidal?”

Rocco thought about that. Was he? Suicidal people just wanted out, an end to life as it was. He didn’t want to go—he had to go. He had to be with his baby in heaven. There was a difference. He quit resisting. Releasing a long breath, he leaned his head against the wall.

Angel shook him and shouted in his ear, “Are you f*cking suicidal?”

“No.” Rocco bucked against Angel’s grip, gaining his release. He rolled his arm around, easing the pain in his shoulder. “What the hell would you have done if I’d said yes, anyway?”

Angel’s black eyes held his. “I’d come into that dark hell you’re living in and carry your ass out.” He put his face in Rocco’s. “No one gets left behind on this team.”

Rocco blinked. No one got left behind…except his little baby, the most fragile person of all.

Angel frowned, then hit his shoulder. “Shake it off, Rocco. You want to spar?”

Rocco nodded. The pain usually helped, though this little convo had cemented what he needed to do.





*





Mandy was cleaning out stalls when she looked over to see Rocco standing near Kitano’s pen. Rocco was about ten feet from the long corral. Kitano noticed and turned to keep an eye on him.

When they’d first come to Ty’s place, Rocco had made it a point to visit the broken horse every day. When had he stopped doing that, Mandy wondered? The team’s work over the past few months had been intense. She was glad to see him taking a few minutes for himself and for Kitano. It was much, much better that he was here rather than hiding in her old, crumbling barn.

Mandy stayed in the shadows and watched him. Kitano had come to tolerate her quite well, but was still leery of just about anyone else. Rocco approached the fence. Kitano shook his head, his focus sharp. Rocco turned left and slowly walked to the end of the long corral. Kitano kept pace with him, staying on the far side of his corral. Rocco walked back the other way. Kitano did, too.

Rocco climbed the six-foot fence and dropped inside the corral. Kitano didn’t like that. He tossed his head, snorted, then stamped the dirt with his front hoof. Rocco spread his arms and took a couple of steps into the corral. Before Mandy could react, Kitano charged forward. She swallowed a shout and hurried out of the stall, then realized she needed a halter and lead. She grabbed them, but paused long enough to check her panic—that level of energy would only worsen what was happening.

She watched, seeing Rocco step out of Kitano’s forward rush seconds before being trampled. Kitano turned just as he reached the fence, sandwiching himself sideways between it and Rocco.

“Whoa…whoa…whoa,” Rocco said, the sounds coming out almost as a single word from deep inside his chest. He was calmer than Kitano, which caused the Paint to pause and reassess the situation. His nostrils were sucking and blowing air as he scented Rocco.