The Treatment

by Suzanne Young

  “And then she told me about Roger, about what he’d done to her. And I had such guilt.” He closes his eyes. “You don’t understand how that kind of guilt can feel. Again I found myself taking it out on her. I can’t not hurt her, Sloane. I want to protect her, but I can’t even protect her from me.”

  “Then just leave her alone,” I say. “Isn’t that the best thing you can do for her? She still cares about you, Realm.”

  “And I’m in love with you.”

  My stomach twists, sickened by the words. I’m not to blame for how he’s mistreated Dallas. “Don’t turn this on me. You should never have told her that, knowing your past together. Knowing how she feels about you. It was cruel.”

  He smiles, sad and lonely. “Isn’t that what you do to me when it comes to James?” he asks. “Aren’t we in the same exact position?”

  His words shock me, and I jump to my feet. Have I done that? Am I that cruel? I take a step back, and Realm shakes his head and reaches for my arm.

  “Sloane, wait,” he says. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad. I get it—that’s what I’m trying to say here. I understand about you and James—you’ll always choose him. I’m just saying that, on the same token, I’ll always choose you.”

  Realm is the one who’s unwell. Has he always been this way, or is he spiraling into a depression? I step backward toward the house, yanking my arm from his. “You’re crazy,” I say. “Stay away from me, Realm. Stay away from Dallas.”

  Realm starts to follow me, but something in my expression makes him stop. Instead he leans the side of his body against the railing and watches me leave. I’m suddenly desperate to find James. I can’t tell Dallas about Realm; I’m not sure I can inflict that kind of trauma on her. But I’ll ask for her help in locating James. And then I’ll get us the hell out of here. I start to run toward the house, running away from Realm. Always running back to James.

  * * *

  When I get to the house, it’s quiet. The pan Cas used earlier is soaking in the sink, and there’s a bowl filled with ramen noodles on the table. I can’t eat anyway, not after what I just learned. Dallas isn’t in the living room, but I have to find her. We have to find James and then get out of here. I head upstairs to grab my stuff, guessing that Dallas is still asleep. I climb the creaky stairs, and when I open my bedroom door, my breath catches in my throat.

  James is standing at the window, staring out over the yard. I see his shoulders tense when I enter, but he doesn’t turn around right away. He seems different, even though it’s been only a few days. I want to see his face, but at the same time, I’m scared of what his expression will say. Is he still mad about Realm? Does he think I abandoned him?

  “I saw you on the bridge just now,” he says quietly. “The land’s beautiful here. A lot like Oregon. A lot like home.”

  I’m about to completely break down, but I sniffle hard and pull myself together. “You found us,” I say, thinking back on Realm’s words. He said if James loved me, he’d find me. I’m hoping that’s true.

  James turns, his bright-blue eyes arresting as he looks me over. “Did you think I wouldn’t?” he asks. “You know me too well to think I’d give up on you. I left so I wouldn’t murder your friend, but something came up. I’m just glad Dallas left a breadcrumb trail.”

  The moment is heavy, overflowing with emotion. My fingers are shaking so badly that I clasp them in front of me. “I was worried about you,” I say.

  James nods and reaches into his pocket, pulling out the Baggie. “I should give this back to you,” he says quietly. “I thought about taking it, but I couldn’t. See, I hesitated.”

  “I’m glad,” I say. “I have so much to tell you, and to be honest, I doubt either of us will be taking The Treatment anytime soon.” James casts a confused glance at the pill before sliding it back into his pocket. But rather than asking me, he lowers his eyes, his shoulders slumping. My stomach sinks.

  “What’s happened?”

  James lifts his gaze. “My dad died.”

  I gasp, shocked beyond words. I rush forward, not caring if he wants me to or not, and wrap my arms around him. He’d already lost his mother, and now . . . his father. James is an orphan. He’s truly alone in the world now. His arms are weak as they rest around my waist. I get on my tiptoes, whispering close to his ear.

  “I’m so sorry, James.”

  James’s grip tightens, and soon he’s holding me, swaying with whatever grief he was holding back. I should have been with him, but instead I let Realm manipulate me. I broke James’s trust. We could have faced everything together, but it’s too late to take it back now.

  After a moment James hitches in a few unsteady breaths. He rubs his reddened eyes and then takes in my appearance. “You look too thin,” he says, sounding miserable.

  “I’ve been a little stressed.”

  He nods like he can understand. Absently, he reaches to take a curly strand of my hair and twist it around his finger. “When I left,” he says quietly, “I planned to cool off for a few hours, come back, and take you away from him. Away from Realm. At one point I looked up and realized I was driving back to Oregon. I just wanted to go home. I wanted our lives back. I stopped at a gas station and asked to use the phone. I called my dad.”

  The tears gather in James’s eyes and his grief is contagious. Even though his father blamed me for James running away, he was still James’s father. I murmur again how sorry I am, but James doesn’t seem to hear.

  “Dad didn’t answer the phone,” he continues. “And I got a bad feeling. So . . . I called your house.”

  “My house?”

  James nods, letting my hair slip out of his hand. “I’m not even sure why. I did it without thinking—I just . . . knew the number. I talked to your father.”

  “My dad?” I squeak out. I miss my parents. Despite everything, I miss them, and knowing that James lost his dad makes me only more desperate to have mine back.

  “He told me my father died last week. There wasn’t a service because there was no family left to bury him. Instead the State took his body. I . . .” James starts to break but fights hard to keep his composure. “I abandoned my dad, Sloane. He died all alone.”

  I cover my lips with my fingers, trying not to cry. This is why James seemed different when I walked in. He’s no longer cocky or confident. Over the past few days, he’s lost his old life. He’s had to grow up completely. His life is irrevocably changed.

  “Your father asked about you,” James says. “I told him you were okay, that you weren’t sick. And that someday we’d come home again.” I squeeze my eyes shut, tears spilling onto my cheeks. “He said he hoped so,” James continued. “He asked me to take care of you until then.”

  I look at James again, my heart aching. “You promised that you would?”

  He smiles softly. “Yeah. I told him I’d do anything to keep you safe. And I meant it, Sloane. After I talked with him, I turned the car around because I knew I could never leave you. You’re all the family I have left.”

  The words escape me—the perfect phrases that would prove to James how much I love him. We are family. “Do you really think we’ll go home someday?”

  “I’m gonna try like hell,” he says, shifting closer to me. He slides his palm over my neck, his thumb stroking my jaw. I ache for him to kiss me, but he’s holding back.

  “How did you find us?” I ask. “How did Dallas get to you?”

  “I have to say”—he laughs—“she’s pretty damn good. She must have had people out looking for the Escalade. First I got a note leading me to a seedy motel. I was a few days behind you. The proprietor was nice enough to tell me you shared a room with a tall, dark-haired guy with a nasty scar on his neck.” James lowers his arm.

  There’s a rush of guilt, but I’m quick to try to explain it away. “It wasn’t like that.”

  “I wouldn’t be here if I thought it was,” James says. “You’re tangled up with him. I have to deal with it.” James
gets quiet, slipping his hands into the pockets of his pants. “At the motel,” James continues, “Dallas left behind a guidebook of Lake Tahoe. From there, it was a matter of tracking the van.

  “Cas let me in when I got here—acting pretty fucking surprised to see me, I must say. He showed me to your room, and when I looked out the window, I saw you on the bridge.” James’s eyes weaken with vulnerability. “I told you once that I wasn’t a jealous guy except for when it came to Michael Realm. But that’s my problem to get over, not yours. I choose to trust you.”

  Although I’m glad James came to a decision about his feelings, there’s so much he’s missed. “I’ve made it clear to Realm that he and I will never happen,” I tell him. “He’s been keeping secrets from me, terrible lies from all of us. I don’t think he’s well, James. All I want now is for us to run away from here.”

  James can’t hide the relief, his mouth twitching with a smile. “We’ll leave in the morning.” He takes the bottom of my shirt to tug me closer. I wrap my arms around his neck, getting on my tiptoes so that our lips touch. “I give up, Sloane,” he whispers against me. “I’m all yours.”

  There’s a pain, a beautiful deep pain in my heart, and I lean in to kiss him. His lips are warm and gentle, even as his beard scratches me. His touch isn’t urgent, though I’m sure we’re both burning for each other. His kiss is slow and thorough and claiming. We ease back onto the bed, taking our time—something we’ve never done, not that I can remember. His kisses trail over my body, my heart skips a beat with his every moan. James is back—really back. And together we’re about to start our new life.

  * * *

  By midafternoon James and I are still lying around my room as I fill him in on the events he’s missed. I tell him about Arthur Pritchard, Kellan. We talk about my returning memories and the nosebleed. I even tell him about Dallas and Realm. James listens to all the stories, clearly overwhelmed with information. But he’s handling it better than I thought he would. He really has matured.

  “So how do you think Michael Realm is going to feel about our reunion?” he asks, motioning between us.

  “I imagine he’ll be heartbroken.” There’s a small twist of regret, but I remind myself how Realm has treated Dallas. Nothing I do to him could ever be that cruel.

  “Well, in that case,” James says, smiling to himself, “I can’t wait to see him.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CAS IS THE ONLY ONE smiling at dinner. Well, besides James, who is chewing on store-bought beef jerky like it’s the best thing he’s ever eaten. He showered and shaved before coming downstairs, and unlike the last time, James is perfectly content with gloating. I may have misjudged his maturity level.

  James keeps his hand on my leg, casually, but still there. We sit close, and every so often he brushes his lips over my ear to whisper how much he missed me. I’d tell him to stop pouring salt in the wound, but I don’t. Because tomorrow we’re running away, just like we should have in the first place. I plan to ask Dallas to come with us, but I doubt she’ll leave Cas. I’m going to give her the option anyway.

  “So where’ve you been?” Cas asks, reaching to pull some jerky out of the bag on the table. Night has fallen outside, blacking out the windows and dotting the sky with stars. I plan to sit and stare up at them later, enjoy one last night in Tahoe before we leave for the unknown.

  “I tried to head back to Oregon,” James says. “Got spooked when I saw the billboard with my handsome mug on it.” He winks at me to let me know he’s joking.

  Dallas chuckles. “That must be distracting for drivers.”

  “It was,” James retorts. “Tourists lining the road, taking pictures. Traffic jams. I knew I’d be a target. Ended up camping for a day or two before I found your trail. It was pretty lonely. I found my spirit animal though.” He grins. “It’s a rooster.”

  “Shut up.” I laugh, pushing his shoulder. James continues to tell ridiculous stories, leaving out everything relating to his dad. He’s keeping it private, which I respect. Dallas seems brightened by James’s return, and I don’t feel threatened by her attention. Not like before.

  Realm broods at the end of the table, and occasionally Dallas looks over at him, although she’s clearly still too pissed to engage him in conversation. I hate knowing about pieces of her life that she doesn’t. Can she feel deep down inside that she used to love Realm? Am I cruel for not telling her now?

  As if reading my thoughts, Realm pushes his drink aside and stares at Dallas until she looks at him. “Can I talk to you?” he asks.

  She scoffs. “No.” She turns back to James, but Realm is quick to reach out and take her hand, startling her.

  “I need to talk to you,” he says again, more aggressively. At the other end of the table, Cas glares at Realm.

  “Leave it alone, man,” Cas says seriously. “Leave her alone.” They exchange a look, one heavy in meaning, but Realm doesn’t back down.

  “I can’t,” he says, his lips pulled tight into a snarl. “And this isn’t your call, Casanova. Not her, not The Treatment. Do you think I haven’t noticed you searching for the pill?”

  Cas stands, knocking a cup off the table and sending it to the floor with a loud clatter. We all jump, surprised to see Cas react so strongly. It’s an Old West showdown, and James sits up straighter like he’s ready to break up a fight.

  For her part, Dallas looks utterly confused. Cas’s reaction is over the top, especially since they’re just friends. And I don’t know what any of this has to do with The Treatment.

  “Outside,” Cas growls to Realm. At first I think he’s calling for a fight, but Realm nods solemnly. Cas doesn’t say a word to Dallas before walking out, letting the screen door slam shut behind him.

  Realm pauses, but Dallas won’t look at him. He rounds the table, touching my shoulder as he passes. James and Dallas don’t notice. I watch Realm leave, wondering what the hell is going on. Does he genuinely want to apologize to Dallas? Is he freaking out because James is back?

  Dallas curses and gets up from the table. “He’s such a dick,” she says, rattled. She wouldn’t talk to Realm, but his attention was enough to break her otherwise good mood. Realm called her unstable, but obviously he’s partly to blame for that diagnosis. There’s real damage here that he has no right to tamper with. And to prove it, Dallas tosses her beef jerky on the table and storms upstairs.

  James looks over at me, his eyebrows raised. “What was that about?” he asks. “Are Dallas and Cas—”

  “They both say no,” I tell him. “Just friends. Either way, I’m ready to get out of here. They want The Treatment, not us.” At the mention, I realize we left the pill in the room. After that little exchange, I’m feeling paranoid. I want to check on it. “Let’s go upstairs,” I say.

  James doesn’t make a joke because he can see I’m suspicious. Together we go back to the room and I immediately check the small inside pocket of the duffel bag. The pill is still there, tucked inside the Baggie with Kellan Thomas’s business card so I won’t lose them.

  “What’s going on?” James asks, shutting the door before going to sit on the bed. “Have the rebels been trying to get ahold of The Treatment?”

  I shake my head, trying to figure out what’s making me so uneasy. “Not really, or at least, not obviously. They want to keep it safe from The Program. I assumed Arthur Pritchard was the threat, but I may have misjudged him. Now it’s up to us.” I think again about the doctor, hoping I’ll be able to reconnect with him eventually. If he understood the risks of The Treatment, maybe he’d have another idea on how to combat The Program. Maybe there can be a happy ending in all this.

  “Can I see it for second?” James asks. I lift my gaze to where he sits, and nod. I take the Baggie and crawl onto the bed. James lies next to me, and I hand him the items, resting my cheek on his shoulder. He reads the business card through the plastic and then begins tracing the pill with his thumb.

  “A cure dangerous enough to kill us,” he says.
“What a cruel twist.”

  I close my eyes, thinking back on what Dallas said. She would have made James take The Treatment. Realm would have made me. They both thought it would be worth the risk, and now that James has lost everything . . . I wonder if they’re right.

  “I understand if you want to take the pill,” I tell him. “I know you’re strong enough to fight off the depression if you want the memories. Especially now that your dad is gone.”

  James turns to press a kiss on my forehead. “I have all I need right here,” he murmurs. “And if there’s a chance a doctor, or anyone, can figure out how to use this pill to save others in the future, we should hold on to it.” He smiles. “How the hell did we become responsible for the fate of the entire world?”

  I laugh. “I have no idea.”

  James slides the Baggie into the leg pocket of his cargo shorts and then turns to wrap his arms around me. He pets my hair and I reach to stroke my fingers over the scars on his bicep—the names The Program took away.

  “We’ll keep the pill safe from The Program,” he whispers. “In the morning we’ll go far away until all this has blown over. We’ll even get a puppy.”

  “Two,” I say, although I know we’re just playing house again. I don’t mind. When your entire life has morphed into a low-budget action movie, you fantasize about a boring suburban existence. How easy it would all be.

  There’s a sharp pain in my temple, and I wince and touch the spot. I’m reminded of what happened the last time a memory cracked through. But just as quickly as the pain hits, it disappears. So I don’t mention it. I just snuggle next to James and drift off to sleep.

  There’s a whisper of wind through the trees, rustling the leaves above us. James stands behind me in the grass, brushing his fingers through my hair as he works out the knots.

  “I feel like I’m dating Medusa,” he says. “Do you have snakes hidden in here?” He brushes my hair over my shoulder and the black curls cascade down before he leans to kiss my skin.