Vicious jealousy ripped through Diesel’s gut, startling him. No. This isn’t me. I’m happy for them. He just wanted the same thing.

“Maybe it’s time for you to move on, D,” Stone murmured.

Diesel’s gaze shot up to Stone’s, found it filled with compassion and hurt on his behalf. “What? Move on to what?” he demanded, feigning cluelessness. Better to pretend than to take the pity. I hate pity.

Stone sighed. “Fine. It’s just that the look on your face just now . . .” He shook his head. “Never mind. When was that complaint filed by the card counter?”

Diesel returned his focus to the laptop screen, grateful for the reprieve. Because Stone was right. Maybe it was time to move on. “A year ago, which fits the time frame of the real security guard’s disappearance. There are similar complaints on here, but all are newer.”

“Will you go to Indy to check out the missing nursing home guard, to see if the riverboat’s big bald security guy stole his identity?” Stone asked.

Diesel opened his mouth to say yes, but remembered Michael and Joshua. He’d promised to keep them safe, and he couldn’t do that from Indianapolis. He couldn’t do that from his house, for that matter.

“No. I’ll go back to Dani’s until the kids are safe. I promised them.”

Stone nodded, understanding. “I figured as much. If you send me the info, I’ll go. Delores might like a little road trip.”

“Thanks,” Diesel said, his throat suddenly thick. “I’m grateful.”

Stone’s smile was sad. “You know I’d do anything for you, Elvis.”

Diesel swallowed hard, because the name hadn’t been a taunt that time. “Thanks, Montgomery.” He cleared his throat. “While you’re doing that, I’ll be trying to break into the casino’s server. I want a home address for big bald ‘Scott King.’”

“Will you do that here?”

Diesel hesitated. “Who’s still at Dani’s house?”

Stone did a quick text. Then smiled before he looked up. It was an expression that none of them had ever seen on his face before he met Delores. She made him truly happy.

Diesel waited for the jealousy, but it didn’t come. Instead, there was a loneliness so intense that he had to fight not to press his hand to his heart. Because it hurt more than it had when he’d taken the bullet aimed at Marcus in Iraq all those years ago. And that bullet had nearly killed him.

Some days he’d wished it had. Today . . . He closed his eyes when they stung. Today is not one of those days, he told himself fiercely. It’s not.

“Diesel?” Stone asked softly.

Diesel forced his eyes to open, silently cursing when the tears that stung his eyes trickled down his face. “I’m okay.”