Rocco and Mandy: A Red Team Wedding Novella (Book #6.5) (2 page)

He’d seen it happen with each of her clients. Maybe there was something to the whole hippotherapy thing, which was why he was waiting for the area to empty out.

When everyone was headed to the parking area with the young vet, Rocco made a beeline for the stables, hoping to saddle a horse before Mandy got back and peppered him with questions he couldn’t answer. He needed time alone. Some room to think. Some space to find the pieces of himself he’d lost to the shadows. He hoped a long ride might help him do that.
 

He’d told Kit where he was headed. The team was too skittish after Fiona’s abduction to take any unexplained absence casually. The last thing he wanted was the whole fucking group out looking for him.

As he went by Kitano’s corral, the brown and white Paint lifted his head and tracked his movement. Rocco wished he could ride Mandy’s rescued horse, but he wasn’t any more healed from his past than Rocco was, and as yet, he couldn’t tolerate being saddled or ridden.

Rocco selected a sorrel, saddled her, then led her outside and swung up into the saddle. He walked her down the narrow dirt road between the stable and corrals. Kitano jogged along his fence line. Rocco’s heart ached for the freedom Kitano lacked.

As he cleared the stable yard, Rocco saw Mandy watching him from the edge of the parking area. The late afternoon sun lit her hair to the color of flames. He could feel her emptiness—the void he himself had carved inside her.
 

It was good that he could feel that, no?
 

He’d been trying to find the part of him that cared about others, the part that could sense their emotions. Empathy. It had kept him alive in Afghanistan, where it seemed he’d used all of it up. How long had it been since he’d truly cared for anyone other than himself?
 

He remembered Mandy had asked him recently:
“Do you love me?”

“Yes,”
he’d answered.

“Do you love Zavi?”

“Yes.”

“Does that love hurt?”

“Yes.”

He did love them, but even that he saw in terms of himself. His truthful answer had only served to widen the gap between them. He couldn’t win for losing.

He turned onto the rough tracks behind Blade’s that he often jogged. For a long while, he kept his mind focused only on the wind, the sound of the sorrel’s hooves hitting dirt, the feel of the hot sun.
 

The now and here, as Mandy often suggested.

It wasn’t so bad, this, if he stayed in the present, looking no farther. Forward or back. The
now
was nice.
 

An hour into the ride, he reached a wide ravine, in the middle of which three buttes stood, great pillars of sandstone. The sun was behind him and poured warm colors over the bone-dry vista. The grasses that were so lush in the spring had long ago turned summer brown, dying in advance of winter’s harsh temperatures. The pale green sage and rabbitbrush’s yellow blooms were a visual break in the sun-bleached ground.
 

The sorrel lifted her head and scented the air.
 

Rocco did the same, then took an inventory of his senses. He felt the cool wind come up from the ravine, saw the changing colors that the setting sun poured over the landscape. In this minute, there was just this minute. And it didn’t hurt very much at all, really.

How long had it been since he’d taken a breath that didn’t make his chest ache? Right here, right now, it didn’t. He slowly filled his lungs, over and over, feeding on the peace he felt in that moment.

After a while, the sorrel gave a restless shake of her head and stamped flies off her legs. They turned back toward Blade’s. While she made the slow walk home, Rocco shut his eyes and focused on the waning heat of the sun; the sorrel’s gentle, rocking pace; the scents of dirt, grass, and sage; and the creak of the saddle.
 

There was no pain in the minutiae of the moment.
 

No wonder Mandy’s clients loved their exercises with her and the horses; it let them get out of their heads for a little while. Maybe she’d been right about living in the present. He could try it. He had to try something. But fuck it all, doing so was like learning to walk all over again. Mandy’s clients were relearning things two-year-olds knew, and were happy to do so, not ashamed by what they’d lost. He could take a lesson from them.

He reined his thoughts in and again focused on the moment…the sound of the locusts hopping out of the way of the horse’s hooves, snapping until they landed nearby. No pain there. Just sound.

But if he couldn’t let his mind think, if the only way to avoid pain was to avoid his thoughts and memories, he’d be right back where he was when the fucking day terrors stalked him.
 

He was navigating his way through a minefield.
 

Maybe it was for the best if he just ran through it and let it take him…best for him and everyone around him.

* * *

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 fucking 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 fucking 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 fucking 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 fucking 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.”

* * *

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.
 

“Okay, now spill,” Angel ordered.

“There’s nothing to spill. Nothing’s wrong. I’m just overtired.” She nodded toward her tea. “I thought the tea would help.”

Val handed her mug to her. “It’s Rocco, isn’t it?”

Mandy’s breath left her. She folded her lips together, fighting another wave of tears. “No.” She shook her head. “It’s just me. Really.”

“Come sit down,” Val said, drawing her over to the kitchen table. “Angel will make us some tea, too. We’ll keep you company until you settle down.”

“I don’t like chamomile,” Angel grumbled.

“Then pick another tea.” Val gave him a meaningful glare.
 

Mandy laughed. “You guys don’t have to stay with me. Sounded like you were heading out.”

Val shrugged. “You’re more important than a beer at Winchester’s.”

Angel poured hot water into two mugs. He started digging through the boxes of teas to find one that apparently didn’t smell horrible. Mandy bit her lip to keep from laughing. He held up a box, showing Val the flavor. Val’s nostrils flared and he shook his head, but stopped as soon as he realized she was looking at him.

“You guys, have a beer or something. You don’t have to torture yourselves with tea.”

“Oh, thank God,” Angel said as he closed the tea cupboard and fetched two bottles from the fridge.

“Okay, let’s talk this out. What’s going on with Rocco?” Val asked.

“I don’t know. I honestly don’t. It seems we talk less and less.”

Val met Angel’s hard eyes. Mandy dropped her gaze to her mug. “Look, I don’t want you guys worrying about him or us. I’ll figure it out. It’ll be all right. We’ll be fine.”

Angel slumped into a seat at the table. “Why should you have to figure that out by yourself? How is that okay?”

“Angel”—her lips trembled—“it’s the only choice I have.”

“Fuck that.”

“We’ll talk to him,” Val offered.

“No. Really. It’s all okay.”

Val took her hand in his big one. The look he exchanged with Angel held no humor. “Look, little ginger,” he said, moving his gaze to her, “you aren’t alone. You got a whole bunch of brothers backing you up. And a wicked, badass sister, too. ”

Mandy smiled through fresh tears. “That makes me a very lucky person.” She sipped her tea. “I think I’m going to head back to bed.” The guys got up when she did. She kissed them both on the cheek. “Thank you,” she said, giving them a smile before she took her mug and left.

* * *

Mandy found Kit with Ivy and Kathy in the kitchen the next afternoon. She stole a sample of the crostini that Ivy was making for later. “Kit—do you have a minute?” she asked her brother.

“Sure thing. S’up?”
 

Mandy led him toward the patio door without answering.
 

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“No. Everything is not okay. It’s not at all okay,” Mandy said when they were outside.

“Rocco?”

She nodded. “He’s drifting farther and farther away every day. I’m afraid of where he’s headed.”

“Angel said he’s been hanging out in your old barn.”

She flashed a look at Kit. “It isn’t just that’s he’s isolating himself from us. And it isn’t that his selection of a hangout spot is a dangerous one. It’s the fact that the darkness is taking more and more of him.”

Kit nodded and looked forward. “I ordered him back to a shrink.”

“That will help—and absolutely needs to be part of his healing plan.” She looked at her brother. “But there’s something else I want to do.”

Kit lifted a brow.

“I want to put in a memorial garden in my front yard. To Kadisha.”

“Oh. Shit.”

“It’s important, Kit. We need to quit pretending she isn’t part of our lives. She’s Zavi’s mother, for crying out loud.”

Kit dipped his head and rubbed a hand over his mouth. “Rocco wants to forget her. Forget what happened. Laying it all out in broad daylight, for him and everyone to see, isn’t going to be a good thing.”