Page 44 of Kiss of Fury

“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 hehadkilled, 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. Anexecution 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?

Chapter Nineteen

A pajama-clad Brody padded into the main room. “When’s Mike coming home?”

“He’s not.” Dinner with her son had been strained. He’d been disappointed Mike wouldn’t be joining them, but recovered, chattering away until he picked up from her monosyllabic replies and untouched meal that something was wrong. He’d gone silent then, too, sending her questioning looks.

“Not tonight or not at all?” he persisted.

Not ever. How could he have done those things?“Did you brush your teeth?”

“Yes.” He sighed.

“Go to bed, then, please.”

“What about a bedtime story?”

“Not tonight. I’m tired.” She rubbed her eyelids, her head throbbing from a tension headache. Her stomach roiled.

“Can I read?”

“All right.”

“Did my books on cyborgs come in at the library?”

“Go to bed, now!” she snapped.

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