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Carter turned his eyes to him. “Seriously?”

Marco sighed. “I’m safe, okay? Don’t get yourself in trouble for him.”

Carter huffed and pushed Terry down the sidewalk. The taller man stumbled, catching himself on a light post. He looked back only once, his eyes shining with something that made Marco’s stomach twist. Terry said nothing, though, all but tripping over himself as he hurried down the street, getting away from the two of them as fast as possible.

“See?” he told Mrs. Palmer brightly. “Just fine.”

She nodded grimly, though her suspicious glance at Carter made Marco wonder if she would call the cops anyway.

“What the fuck,” Carter snarled. “I thought you were supposed to live in a good neighborhood.”

“I do,” Marco said faintly, watching Terry disappear around a corner. “But nowhere in the world is ever really safe, is it?”

“It’d be a hell of a lot safer if you’d just hit the fucker. Jesus, Marco.”

Marco gave him a wry smile. “Do I look like a fighter to you?”

Carter looked him over, the darkness in his gaze disappearing. Something bright flickered there momentarily, bringing out the yellow of his hazel eyes and disappearing a second later.

Carter’s shoulders slumped. “No. But that doesn’t mean you can’t defend yourself. There are ways for someone like you to hold your own in a fight.”

“Someone like me,” Marco repeated in amusement.

“You know, little,” Carter grunted. “Pretty.”

“Pretty.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Marco couldn’t help but laugh at the snarl. It didn’t sound serious, even if Carterwastrying to come across as mean. His heart finally slowed as he looked Carter over. The man was dressed in a pair of regulation pants, boots, and the solid, olive-colored shirt he recognized from Fort Dale. His face was already losing some of its previous discoloration, though the dark circles under his eyes were still there. Marco had to admit, the man looked damn good.

“Thank you,” Marco told him seriously.

Carter snorted harshly. “Whatever. I’m going to teach your dumb ass a couple of things.”

“I would appreciate that.”

“And you’d better fucking use them if you get into a dumbass situation like that again.”

“I promise to try my best.”

“Jesus,” Carter muttered.

Marco cocked his head. “And not that I’m going to complain, and not because you probably just saved me from an ugly situation, but what are you doing here?”

Carter huffed, stomping down the sidewalk where Marco could see an opaque plastic bag. He peered into the bag, scowling as though whatever was inside offended his sensibilities, and stomped back over to Marco.

He thrust the bag out. “Bringing this.”

“This,” Marco repeated, taking the bag and peering inside. “Oh.”

It was the same Thai order Marco had made when Carter was in his apartment. Marco knew that because he’d been on autopilot when he’d ordered and had ordered double what he usually did.

Carter shrugged, apparently refusing to look at Marco. “You were stupid enough to let me into your house and feed me. Might as well give you the food back. I don’t really have a place for you to come crash in.”

It was a loaded statement, but Marco decided to leave the bullet in the chamber. Carter looked like he was struggling enough with this gesture, especially since Marco was pretty sure the man’s neck was turning red.

Carter, who’d stepped in twice to save someone else without hesitation. The man who’d probably waded into gunfire and explosions and who knew what else kind of danger. Who now was undone, made nervous and irritated by a simple kind gesture he’d started all on his own.