Page 15 of The Quoram Effect

Chapter Seven

As I laid on a hospital bed, my restless legs tingled with nervous energy. I was itching to get out of this sterile medical room. It reminded me too much of the last couple of days I’d watched Mum’s health decline.

Gods, I miss her.

The hiss of the sliding door jarred me from my thoughts, and I bounced up onto my elbow, regretting it instantly. My shoulder had been cauterised and sutured, but whenever I moved, the twinge of pain left me grimacing through heaving breaths.

A male nurse entered the small room and smiled. “You’re clear to leave, Lieutenant Harthwaite. Here is a course of painkillers.” He offered me a small glass jar, half-full of tiny white tablets. “No need to return unless you have any issues. Your sutures will dissolve as the wound heals.” He motioned to the open door. “Two of your colleagues are here to take you home.”

Frowning, I glanced to the brightly lit hallway. A bronze face with dark, spiky hair atop peered around the door, a set of white teeth beaming at me.

“Saul, what are you doing here?” I groaned, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. I still wore my silver dress, now adorned with bloodstains in various shades. Some mine, some not.

Dressed in his black security uniform, Saul strolled into the room. “Torz told us to come collect you.”

“Us?” I eyed the doorway as a hoverchair was pushed into the room by our superior officer, Captain Arlo Zaynes. I chuckled to myself. I’d never thought I’d see the day the stern, stoic headof security, with his buzz haircut and mass of tattoos, looked so domesticated.

Arlo raised his eyebrows when he spotted me. “You really did get yourself into a pickle, didn’t you?”

“Tends to happen when she does these things alone,” Saul slighted.

Shocked, I glanced at my burly comrade. An air of disappointment rippled off Saul’s bulky shoulders, making me believe he was pissed with me. I frowned. “Why are you angry?”

“I’m not.” He dropped his stance, puffing out his broad chest. “But how many times have I told you I’ve got your back? I can’t guard it if you mosey off on assignments by yourself.”

Wow, I’d never seen him so animated in this way. “I had to keep a low profile.”

He eyed my attire, crossing his thick arms over his chest. “Really?”

I wasn’t sure how much Torz had told Arlo about Zuli’s blackmail, let alone Saul, but given their involvement with the undercover supply runs, I had no doubt they would be briefed at some point.

“I was running an errand for Torz. In an unexpected twist of events, I ended up…well, like this.” I looked down at my bare feet. I had no idea where my shoes were, or if they’d been recovered from the crime scene. I must’ve passed out just after the third Puran keeled over. My stomach roiled at the thought. “Is Torz mad?”

My two colleagues exchanged a dubious look. Saul screwed his face up whilst Arlo scratched the purple-and-black tattoo scaling his neck, the frown deepening his stark brow doing nothing to ease my unrest. “He’s, um…he’s fuming.”

“Shit.” I rubbed my face with a despair that lingered on exhaustion. The political aftermath of the incident would beTorz’s responsibility to clear up, but how the fuck was he going to explain the situation to Chaz? I’d killed three of his men.

“Come on.” Arlo lined the hoverchair up against the bed, took his jacket off, and draped it around my bare shoulders. “I’m sure things will be okay. It’s Torz. He lets you get away with everything.”

“No, he doesn’t,” I mumbled, clasping the jacket at the neck and eyeing the assistive chair before me. “And there is nothing wrong with my legs. I can walk.”

“You’ve lost a lot of blood.”

“I’m fine.”

Arlo’s icy-blue stare pierced through me. It was no wonder he ran the department as Torz’s second. His cool, no-nonsense demeanour could freeze anyone in their tracks. I, for one, never wanted to get on the wrong side of him.

“Get in the chair, Lieutenant,” he commanded with a firm, flat tone.

I stifled my groan of reluctance and complied. “Yes, sir.”

* * *

By the time we arrived on Level Ten, I was laughing like a six-year-old child…and squealing like one. Arlo swung the hoverchair out of the elevator, marginally missing a clerical worker, then an elderly couple, as we hurtled down the corridor towards Torz’s apartment.

I giggled as Arlo pulled me to a stop outside the apartment door. Chuckling to himself, Arlo looked back at Saul sweating and panting behind us. “I think you need a few extra sessions at the gym, young man.”

Saul narrowed his brown eyes. “Don’tyoung manme. I’m having an off day. I ate too much at dinner.”