Chapter 25

“Do you want to tell me?”

“I’m a bastard,” he says with a shrug. “That pretty much sums it up. And I mean it in the original sense of the word. My mother had an affair with a married man. She got pregnant. She had me.”

“And you didn’t know your father?” As much as I would have liked not to know mine sometimes, I wouldn’t wish that on any child.

“Oh no. I met him. I knew everything about his other family. I was two when my half-brother was born, and I knew all about him, damn it, and I wasn’t allowed to say a word.”

“My God.” I try to imagine it, but I can’t. “My God,” I repeat.

“Yeah, that’s it, more or less. You could say it pissed me off—especially seeing how much attention my father paid my half-brother and how little he gave me. I got angry. A lot. I had outbursts. Dangerous ones.”

I can’t help looking at the cut on his cheek.

He notices and gives me a sad smile. “I vent my anger by fighting.”

“Marcus…”

He takes my hand and k