He looked at her tucked up against the man who was speaking. This Warren Thompson fellow who seemed to have the press eating out of his hand. Was he a member of Omega Sector? Damien didn’t know, had never seen him or heard his name, although he’d spent extensive time studying the organization.
It didn’t matter. He would have to die, of course. He dared to touch the perfect Natalie? The man must die.
Sadly, it was probably time for Natalie to die, as well. If she was willing to deceive Damien in this way, to throw away their perfect marriage, then she obviously was broken beyond repair.
Maybe with enough correction, enough punishment, she could be fixed. Probably not, but he wouldn’t know until he tried.
Omega Sector once again was putting themselves between Damien and what belonged to him. And Natalie did belong to him whether she wanted to accept it or not.
No matter. Omega would soon be so busy trying to clean up the mess he’d made with his handy-dandy biological canisters that Natalie would be the last of their worries.
Couldn’t she feel it? The pull between them? The connection even from across the room? Not once did she even look up, so he had to assume she’d lost touch with what had been so special between them.
It was a shame Natalie would have to die, but it couldn’t be helped. As a matter of fact, his lovely wife had just helpedhim make the decision about where to release the biological contaminants.
His perfect wife was gone. He would punish her, then bury her.
And this time when she died, she would truly be dead.
Chapter Nineteen
An hour later Ren was calling himself every foul name he could think of. He’d expected Natalie’s anger. For her to fume, scream, throw a few punches at him.
He would’ve gladly taken them over her blankness.
He hadn’t been making it up when he’d told the press they’d needed a thorough examination by the medics. The doctor had winced at the ugly sight of the stitches in his shoulder, but had declared that they would do the job. It would just mean that Ren would always have a scar there, much more pronounced than it would’ve been if he’d been stitched by a professional in the hospital.
Ren had a feeling he was going to have much more than just this one scar by the time this mission was over.
The doctor had given him an antibiotic shot to help fight off any remaining infection and declared him in fairly good health, all things considered.
Ren had demanded to see Natalie immediately. He needed to talk to her. To explain.
As if she hadn’t figured it out already by herself.
Panic had him entering the room where she was being examined immediately after knocking. Like him, Natalie had been given a new set of clothes. She was facing the opposite direction, pulling a sweater down over her back.
A back covered in bruises.
“What the hell is wrong with your back?” he growled.
Natalie pulled the sweater the rest of the way down, spinning toward him.
“I realize you’re in charge of this operation, Agent McClement,” the Omega medic said. “But please wait for permission to enter an examination room in the future.”
Ren ignored the doctor. “What’s wrong with your back?” he asked Natalie.
Her eyes just stared at him. No anger. Just blankness. Totally withdrawn. She sat down in a chair and began putting on tennis shoes that had been provided for her.
She obviously wasn’t going to answer so he turned to the medic. “What happened?”
He didn’t look like he was going to answer, either, so Ren took a quiet step forward. “You can either tell me now, or I can read your report in an hour, which will be your last here before you start looking for a new job. If she’s injured I need to know about it for this operation.”
And because how the hell had he not known she was hurt?
“Ms. Anderson has extensive bruising on her back, shoulders and hips from repeated contact with the ground. Painful, but nothing that won’t heal in the next few days.”
Ren turned to Natalie. “How did you come in constant contact with the ground enough to bruise that much?”
