Page 25 of The Quoram Effect

Mortified, I nodded. But before I confirmed I would contact him, he wrenched the door aside and left, leaving it wide open with me standing there in full view.

As I looked up, my heart sank deeper. Caught in Torz’s scowl, I held my breath. He stood next to my sofa motionless, hands in his pockets, eyes burning into mine with a bitter disappointment. The front door hissed, announcingCute Guy’s—Eric’s—departure, and still, Torz stared.

Swamped by the heat of humiliation, I plucked my dressing gown from the back of the door and threw it on, covering my near-naked self. Tying the cord securely, I hovered on the threshold between my bedroom and lounge, clearing my throat with an awkwardness his astute frown cast upon me.

I frantically searched my mind for something to say—anything to loosen the thick tension building in the air—but the only thing I thought of was, “I can’t remember the last time you visited me before brunch.” He wasn’t a morning person. Though, his pristinely presented self, dressed in formal military attire, claimed he’d been up a while.

“Your comms are offline. Again.” His gravelly tone sent shivers down my spine. It was a tone he’d rarely used on me. One he took on when commandeering authority.

“Is it? I…” I had no idea where my comms was. Had I switched it off? Had it lost power? I couldn’t recall the last time I charged it over the past couple of days.

“Is this why?” Torz’s glare punctured my soul, our bond flooding with undecipherable sensations. “Why you turn it off?”

I shifted on my feet, glancing to where my one-night stand had departed. Nerves tingled through my stomach with unease. “I didn’t…it was nothing serious. Just a bit of fun.”

“Fun?” Anger flashed across his face. “I wouldn’t call this fun!” He ripped his hand free from his trouser pocket, presenting two small bottles of Q—two of the three doses I’d purchased from Pye yesterday. One was empty, the other two-thirds full.

Blood drained from my face, coating my insides with icy shame. I couldn’t remember taking more than the first dose. HadCute Guytaken some when we’d arrived here?

Why couldn’t I remember?

But I suddenly realised the humming in my shoulder confirmed it was nearly healed. And the only way to accomplish that so quickly…

It was no wonder my dreams had been wild.

I glanced over to the table, to where a glass rested on the reflective surface next to a spillage of lilac wine. I frowned, only to freeze as Torz’s angered voice boomed off the metallic walls. “Why Rems? Why now?”

The distress straining within him was heart rendering, and like an obsidian blade, his Gods damn despair lanced through our bond, tearing me apart.

“You cleaned up, Rems! You went through hell flushing this addictive shit out of your system. I went through hell with you. Do you really think I enjoyed it? Watching you claw at your skin and your hair, listening to you scream and sob, trying to keep you from banging your head against the wall to stop the agony? For months, I helped you survive that shit…because I care!Because you deserved better. And now…all these years later, you relapse? Why?”

I couldn’t swallow the lump clogging my throat, and my chest swelled with liquid regret. I shook my head, sucking back the wave of tears threatening to breach. “I didn’t want to.”

“Did he force you?” Torz pointed to the door, his face flushing with a rage I’d never witnessed before.

“No! Gods, no. It’s my shoulder. I couldn’t take the pain any longer—”

“Then why didn’t you come to me?” He stepped forward, a crazed exasperation furrowing his brow, deepening the childhood scar across his forehead. “I could’ve got you something. Something less addictive than pure Q.”

“I…I don’t know. You’ve been under a lot of pressure with Zuli and the Purans. I didn’t want to alarm you.”

“Alarm me?” Muttering a curse, he marched over to the disposal chute next to the kitchenette, hurling the bottles of Q into the void. As he stormed back across the room, my breath locked inside my lungs.

“Is there anymore?” He pushed past me into the bedroom. Guilt and shame slammed through my chest as he rummaged through my cosmetics, my clothes, eyeing the open box of condoms and underwear strewn over the bedside table.

“Did that little runt give you the Q?”

Closing my eyes, I swallowed back the acid burning my throat. “No.” I knew Torz would disapprove of my twenty-one-year-old hookup. I knew.

“Was it Pye?” He was now searching the bedsheets.

“Torz, please.”

Throwing the black sheets on the floor, he trampled them, adamant he’d find more condemning evidence, but I just stood there, holding my breath, whilst tears threatened to form.

Satisfied nothing was there, he chucked the sheets back on the mattress and began scouring under the bed. I gripped my hair, demoralisation clawing its way up my spine. I couldn’t take anymore.

“Torz, please, STOP!”