Chapter Eighteen

“She’s not here?” Fury frowned.

“It’s been dead,” Dr. Twygg said, “no pun intended. I gave her the afternoon off.”

Delayed on the range and now on a belated lunch break, Fury decided to pop in and see Verity at the infirmary. “Do you know where she went?”

“She mentioned going to the mercantile.”

“Okay, thanks,” he said and went to the co-op.

“She left about forty-five minutes ago. She said she was going to find a book to read,” Honoria said.

At first glance, the library appeared vacant; even the librarian who manned the information desk was gone. He started to leave when he spotted Verity at an out-of-the-way cubicle. Warmth filled his chest as it always did when he gazed at his wife. With a lightness in his step, he strode toward her.

“Surprise!” He touched her shoulder.

She jerked as if electrified and leaped out of the chair. His gaze riveted on the screen. Cyborg Assassins at Large , screamed the headline beneath his image and Steel’s.

“Verity…”

“Stay away from me! Don’t come any closer.” Backing away, she tore off the headphones she wore.

“Please…” He stretched out his arm.

“Stay away!” The headphones bounced off his chest.

“I can explain. It’s not what you think.”

“Explain what? You’re not a cyborg? You’re not a mass murderer?” Her gaze darted to the vacant information desk.

“It’s not like that,” he pleaded.

“Are you a cyborg?” she demanded.

He swallowed hard. He couldn’t lie to her anymore, nor was it even possible with his likeness plastered on the screen. The picture made him look menacing. “Yes.”

She flinched. “Did you kill people?”

His stomach roiled. “Yes, but—”

“There is no yes-but.”

“They were criminals, terrorists, cartel leaders—”

“Was the mayor of Chicago a cartel leader or terrorist? ”

She was a corrupt politician who’d run afoul of the political ruling party who’d put her in office. When she refused to step down, the party sought out an alternative solution . “Steel and I weren’t involved. We didn’t kill her. It’s a total lie.” Solutions had made him and Steel the scapegoats for the company’s crime.

“They said you did.”

“They lied.” He inched toward her. This was a disaster, a nightmare! How could he convince her he was the same man he’d been an hour ago? That he’d never hurt her or Brody?

“Stay away from me. Don’t come back to the cabin. Do you hear me?” She fled, charging past the startled two-headed librarian who’d returned to her desk.

“Wait, please!” he shouted but did not pursue her. Chasing her would terrify her more. He’d never forget the fear and revulsion on her face.

“Shh!” The librarian glared.

* * * *

“She hates me. She’ll never forgive me.” Head in his hands, Fury slumped on Steel and Honoria’s sofa.

“What do you think she’ll do?” Steel asked in a low voice .

“Besides annul our marriage for bad faith? I don’t know.”

“If she reports us to Phibious—”

“We could all lose our sanctuary. I know. I’m sorry.” Their situation had become more precarious after being blamed for the Chicago massacre. No way would Refuge allow them to stay. They’d be lucky if they weren’t arrested and turned over to Earth authorities.

“I told you to tell her.”

“Steel—he doesn’t need I-told-you-sos.” Honoria settled next to him on the sofa.

“I should have told her. The outcome might have been the same, but at least she wouldn’t be believing lies. She thinks we committed the Chicago massacre!” Fury said.

Given how many people he had killed, perhaps his hurt was misplaced, but it wounded him she considered him capable of such an atrocity. The Chicago massacre had claimed the lives of innocents, people only guilty of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

That incident was black-and-white, open-and-shut wrong. He would never have done that. Nor would Steel. Nor would the vast majority of cyborgs. An execution required justification. Murdering innocents was inexcusable.

Even the assassination of the mayor herself had been questionable. She was as corrupt as the political machine that had elected her—but did she deserve to die?

“Maybe I should go talk to her,” Honoria said.

“It won’t do any good,” he said miserably. He deeply regretted placing his friends in jeopardy, but the piercing heartache came from losing his wife and son.

His head shot up. “Oh fuck.”

“What is it, now?” Steel asked.

“Her search history on the terminal. What if—” It would be bitter irony if Verity kept their secret, but someone using the terminal discovered it and exposed them.

“I handled it,” Steel said. “As soon as you told me what happened, I raced over there and erased her search history. I also verified with the librarian no one else had used that terminal.”

“That’s something, anyway.” He hadn’t been able to think straight since his marriage had blown up in his face, and he’d lost the love of his life.

How could his marriage have ended this way?