Page 18 of The Quoram Effect

“Thanks, Saul. You really know how to make a girl feel good.”

“I’m being serious, Remi. You’re paler than a festering quamberry…and you’re sweating…a lot.”

I wiped my forehead with my jacket sleeve. Shit, my arm was shaking. And as the nausea crept upwards again, I squeezed my eyes shut, breathing through the urge to topple over.

Saul’s large hand softly cupped my good elbow, and I peered up at him, his brown gaze pressing solemnly into mine.

“Why are you here?” he asked gently. “You can’t possibly think you can work in this state.”

“I can’t relax, Saul. My shoulder fucking hurts.” Even talking was adding to the affliction.

“The nurse gave you pain meds—”

“They’re not working!”

“Then go and ask for better ones.”

I threw him a scolding glare. There wasn’t a chance in hell a medical professional would prescribe me stronger drugs, but Saul didn’t know that. Nobody knew that other than Torz…and my medical records.

“Come on, I’ll walk you to the med centre.” Saul repositioned my hand under his arm, then guided me out the door. I had no energy to argue. Perhaps someone at the med centre could do something to help—something other than prescribe drugs…hopefully.

Whilst my scrambled mind trifled through viable possibilities, and before the doors closed behind us, I glanced back to Torz’s office. My commander was frowning in our direction, and as I met his gaze, Torz lifted his hand to gesture a wave, a look of worry etched across his face. It left me wondering if he could sense my agony…or my jealousy.

* * *

The burly nurse threw me a pitiful look, twisting my stomach into knots. “I’m sorry, Ms Harthwaite, I can’t give you anything containing Q. Your records—”

“I know what my records say,” I said with far more venom than intended. The twenty minutes I’d waited to be seen had felt like an age, and it left me grouchy and beyond the point of sane composure. “I’ve been clean for five years!”

“Five years or thirty years; it makes no difference. Once an addict, reintroduction to Q of any strength causes ninety-nine-point-nine percent of re-abuse.”

Holding in a frustrated breath, I could’ve throttled Torz for—all those years ago—insisting my Q addiction was documented in my medical records. Albeit confidential from prying, governmental eyes, it flashed up prominently on the medical professional’s screen every time I visited. I wasn’t sure if the sympathetic nurses were worse than the scrutinising ones, but either way, I was always denied products containing the magical drug, no matter my condition.

And right now, I was drowning in liquid fire.

“I can offer you mild sleeping tablets to take with the painkillers you already have.” The nurse tapped at her handheld computer and swiped. My comms pinged a second later with the new prescription. “They’ll make you drowsy, so avoid operating machinery and weaponry.”

Drowsy or not, I doubted I could bear another day alone in my apartment.

“So, no help with healing then?” I gestured to my shoulder, failing to flatten my angry tone.

“Unfortunately not.” She smiled at me—fucking smiled, as if that would make everything better. “You can take protein supplements, but make sure you increase your fluid intake. If the intense pain doesn’t subside in forty-eight hours, come back to see me. But for now, you’ll have to grin and bear it.”

Grin and bear it.

Biting my tongue, I held back the snarl threatening to break free.

I don’t think I even thanked her when I left. My mind was consumed with frustration and anger, mainly at myself for being an utter ass all those years ago, when I was suddenly void of love and crashing against the deepest, darkest rocks of depression.

I’d always hated being an only child who didn’t know her father. I might as well have been an orphan when my mum died. My sweet aunt had taken me in, but she wasn’t much older than I was, and Aunt Maddie certainly wasn’t my mum. No one could’ve replaced her. Without her, I’d become lost—completely and hopelessly lost. She’d been my best friend, my guidance, my security, my happiness. With her gone, I was no longer rooted—I still wasn’t. I floated about like a lost star in a cluster of galaxies, and the only way I found reprieve from the grieving despair was to become numb.

It wasn’t my fault they put the magical, addictive drug harvested on Quoram in hundreds of prescribed medicines.But its healing abilitywasphenomenal, its numbing sensation intoxicating. If I’d been given a dose today, my shoulder would’ve been fully healed in a matter of days, and I would’ve slept like a log. But my past stupidity left me grappling for respite from the immense pain.

Q had dictated my life for four years following my mum’s death. It had been my saviour and my demon. I’d both loved and hated it. But without it, I wasn’t sure I would’ve survived those long, lonely years. Torz had disappeared from my life during that time. It was only by chance I’d been transferred from Beta Ring security and fallen under Torz’s command. It had been a miracle that he’d chosen to help me fight the addiction rather than condemn me for it. It still baffled me how he’d found out.

Lifting my glassy gaze to the metal door before me, I had no idea how long I’d been standing outside my apartment. I couldn’t remember getting here. Somehow, I’d walked past the pharmacy a few intersections back. I doubtedmildsleeping tablets would’ve helped, anyway. And if they did, I would be forced to spend more gruelling hours with the Damson God and his insistent questions.

After fumbling to open and close the door, I dragged my feet over to the couch and slumped face down into the cushions.