Page 16 of The Quoram Effect

I snorted as Arlo typed a code into the digital keypad and let himself in. I’d already asked why I was being taken to Torz’s apartment and not my own. Arlo’s answer had left tremors of dread in my bones: “He wants to see you.”

As usual, the apartment was warmly lit and immaculate. Arlo pushed me through the lounge towards the door leading to Torz’s chaotic headquarters full of rubbish and boxes and mess. I braced my feet against the plush carpet, refusing to go any further, and halting the chair’s momentum.

“I’m not going in there,” I said. “I’ve had enough chaos for one day, and that room gives me a headache.”

There was a pause, and as I stood up on wobbly legs, I found Arlo flashing another doubtful glance at Saul. I didn’t care. I trundled over to the comfortable-looking sofa, questioning why Torz rarely used this room when it was spacious and welcoming—a complete contrast to the shithole next door.

Lowering myself onto the firm but comfortable cushions, I released a pent-up sigh. My whole body ached. Bruises were forming along my arms and legs, and the tightness in the front of my left shoulder was beginning to throb, confirming the anaesthetic was wearing off.

Let’s hope the painkillers the nurse gave me work.

The whoosh of the opening office door had me glancing up, and Arlo disappeared into the room of doom. His low voice announced my arrival, then there was the sound of swift, muffled footsteps before a weary-looking Torz appeared on the threshold.

I met his hard gaze, the roar of disconcertion flooding my brain.

“Arlo, Saul,” he rumbled, “you may leave.” A pause. “Now!”

Saul frowned at me with sympathy before following Arlo out the main entrance. A suffocating silence settled between us asthe door closed behind them, and I swallowed down the thick lump forming in my throat.

Still dressed in his evening suit, Torz stood a few paces away. His dark hair was tousled to one side as if he’d vigorously raked his fingers through it every minute for the past few hours. His brooding scowl lasered my skin, and a profound guilt swamped me.

“Torz, I had no choice. I had to kill them.”

He began pacing, balling his hands into fists. “This is becoming a nightmare.” Halting his steps, he peered at me and pointed to the door. “That scene was a bloodbath. Media teams are all over it, questioning if Delta Ring is failing at protecting its citizens; damning the Purans even more so than usual. The whole situation is a mess.”

I squeezed my eyelids shut, holding back the grief trying to rip through my chest. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

Striding towards me, he dropped his gaze to my bandaged shoulder peeking out from under Arlo’s jacket. He sat down on the coffee table in front of me, so close his legs straddled my knees.

“How bad is it?” His voice had taken on a tender note, one that surprised me.

Drowning in his intense stare and equally charged emotions, I tried to lighten the mood. “It’s only a shoulder. I have another one.”

“Don’t, Rems,” he snapped. “Don’t. You could’ve died.” His scowl transformed into a frown, and I sensed the warmth of protection stirring within him. “I shouldn’t have put you in that position…on your own...in adamndress.Gods!I shouldn’t have sent you to negotiate with Chaz.” He huffed. “I’m the one who’s sorry.”

“It’s my job, Torz.”

“No!” He pinned me with his resolute stare, and I discovered a whirlpool of remorse and doting concern. Swallowing thickly, he gently added, “It’s mine.”

My brow furrowed. How could he say that? I freely chose to fight the oppression. Just because he led our team didn’t mean he had to place himself in harm’s way over me, or anyone else.

“I’m finding myself in a predicament,” Torz said. “It seems I’m having to put my security team at risk to protect Marla Hyde. If anything happens to her, Zuli will expose me, and it seems assassination attempts are coming left, right, and centre. If I denounce Zuli’s manifesto, she will also expose me. If I endorse her, my position as Delta Ring Commander will be secure, but…I’ll be betraying everything I’ve accomplished with the Purans, and I have no doubt Nikos Russo will raise hell against me…starting with you. Don’t give me that look, Rems. You saw the way he eyed you up. And he knows…”

“Knows what?”

His eyes dropped to his feet, a clench of shame trickling across our bond. “He knows our history.”

What?“How? Did you tell him?” I instantly regretted the distaste in my tone, especially when Torz shot me a flat look.

“No. He’s Quoram-born. He has some kind of ability to sense such things. I don’t know.”

“Russo’s Quoram-born?”

“Yes. If you look at his hair, there’s a violet tint near the temples.” He sighed, pushing his fingers through his hair again. I wanted to reach out and take those fingers, caress them, soothe them…

“I can’t chance it, Rems. Everything’s a fucking mess.”

“Then what are you going to do?” I pressed gently, still staring at the hands I desperately wanted to hold.