Marcus dropped his gaze to his hands. “I know nothing, Diesel. I promise. But I’ve watched you take on sex offenders for years. It’s personal for you, just like it is for me. But different, too. My brothers were hurt, not me. My rage is once removed. Yours . . . isn’t.” He glanced up. “I don’t need to know what happened to you. Not unless you ever want to tell me. I’ve never told a soul what I think, and I never will. But I don’t want to see you get hurt. You’ve gotten attached to this kid so fast . . . You don’t really know him. I don’t want you to be blinded by your need to help him. Just be careful, okay?”

Diesel forced himself to let go of the breath he’d been holding. Exhale. Nice and easy. Marcus cares. I know he does. He only wants to protect me. Like I protect him. “Do the others know?”

That the team at the Ledger could tell his vendetta was personal hadn’t really occurred to him. It should have, of course. They were all reporters. Keen eyes. Keen minds with the ability to see connections others could not.

“No,” Marcus murmured. “At least I don’t think so. Nobody talks about you, D. I promise.”

“Okay.” Closing his eyes, he tried to calm his now-racing heart. “Okay.”

Marcus gripped his forearm. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“It’s . . . it’s okay. I’ll be okay. I hope Michael will be, too.” Diesel opened his eyes to see that Marcus’s had become too bright. Too shiny. “It’s okay, Marcus.”

Marcus pursed his lips and nodded. “Let me know if you need me to run any interference for you. I’ll do whatever you need.” His throat worked. “You know I’ve got your back, D. Me and Scar and everyone here.”

“I know.” Diesel dug deep and found a smile—and a subject change. “So, you’re going to name the baby after me, right?”

Marcus’s laugh held the echo of a sob, but he flicked the back of Diesel’s head as he stood up. “I don’t think so. Elvis O’Bannion? I think Scarlett would kill me in my sleep, and she’d have every right.”

Diesel rubbed his head with an exaggerated scowl. “Ow. But it’s fair. I wish to God I knew what my mother was thinking when she named me.”

“I think there were heavy-duty delivery drugs involved.”

Diesel was about to agree when his cell phone buzzed. He frowned at the call. Most people texted. Then he saw the ID. “It’s Dani.” He hit ACCEPT as Marcus sat back down, waiting. “Hey,” he said, “are you done at the station already?”