“I’ll give it three hours. If I haven’t been successful, I’ll come back.”

“All right. We’ll make sure she’s covered until you get back.” Stone looked like he wanted to say more, but turned for the door. “Talk to you soon.”

The front door closed and the house was silent. Stifling. Oppressive.

Diesel wanted the barking of a dog, the happy squealing of a little boy, the victorious cry of a teenager when he beat Diesel on the Xbox. He wanted the cozy house with its warm kitchen where chili bubbled on the stove and the kettle whistled.

He wanted Dani’s house. He wanted Dani.

His phone dinged with a text from Stone. The photo of Dani’s living room.

Talk to her was the texted message.

Diesel had to close his eyes. “I did,” he said to the empty room. She doesn’t want to want me. He’d meant what he’d told Stone earlier—it was Dani’s right not to want him. He wasn’t going to push. Not anymore. If she changed her mind, the ball would be in her court.

With a harsh sigh, he turned to his computer and began organizing his cyberattack on Lady of the River’s network.

“Scott King,” he muttered aloud. “I’m coming for you. You have a lot of explaining to do.”

Chapter Fifteen

Cincinnati, Ohio
Sunday, March 17, 11:30 p.m.

“Okay, lights out,” Dani told Michael when The Avengers’ final credits rolled. “You have to get back on a schedule. You won’t be out of school forever.”

Michael stood up from where he’d been lounging on the floor. “Is Coach back?”

Dani shook her head. “Not yet.” She still hoped Diesel would come back, but that hope was starting to falter.

You could call him and ask him.

I could. I could also remove my own appendix. It would be equally painful. The look on Diesel’s face as he’d left still haunted her.

Temporary.

She forced a smile for Michael. “But don’t worry. We’ll be safe. One of these guys will stay until Coach gets back.”

“And I’m staying over for a few days,” Greg signed, offering Michael his fist, which Michael bumped. “I’ll take the couch in the basement. I have to go to school tomorrow, but I’ll get your homework and help you get caught up.”

“Thanks.” Michael gave the waiting group a melancholy wave, then signed, “Thank you to you all, too. Nice meeting you.”

Dani voiced his words for the others, then followed Michael and Hawkeye upstairs. “Let me check your stitches,” she signed without voicing.

Michael inclined his head obligingly. The sutures were dry, the wound healing nicely. She tapped his shoulder, indicating he should look up.

“You’re looking good,” she told him, still not voicing because his injuries were private. “How is the other thing?”