The Recovery

by Suzanne Young

  It took James several miles and hundreds of curse words before he took the time to stare at his captors. And when he saw Michael Realm, he started to cry with relief. It didn’t occur to him even once that Realm was there for any other reason than to help him. He trusted him. That was the moment when Realm decided he didn’t hate James after all. It was the moment they became friends. And together, they’d gone in to save Sloane and Dallas from terrible fates in The Program, although Sloane had been doing a pretty good job of busting herself out.

  But that was a difficult day. Realm had been overwhelmed when he saw Sloane for the first time in the stairwell of the facility. She was shredded, terrified. And then she turned to him, and he read on her face that she’d been told he was a handler. The betrayal and hatred in her eyes hurt worse than her slap. It destroyed him. It changed everything.

  A horn beeped, and a car swerved from the lane to pass Realm on the interstate, tearing him from his memories. He was glad. His past was his least-favorite place to be.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  REALM STOOD ON THE FRONT lawn of Sloane’s parents’ house, waiting. He straightened up as the door opened and James came rushing out onto the porch, a backpack thrown over one shoulder. Sloane came out after him, talking fast and waving her hands. She staggered to a stop when she noticed Realm. Her lips parted, and then she nodded at him, looking painfully uncomfortable.

  Damn, he hated that look. He held up his hand in a half wave, and she turned to James just as he hurried down the steps. James cut across the grass, his blond hair grown out, his face clean-shaven. He was still shockingly handsome, and if Realm didn’t like him so much, he would have thought he was a dick for having it so easy.

  “Sorry,” James murmured to him as he passed on the way to the car.

  Realm furrowed his brow. “About wh—”

  “James,” Sloane called, jogging down the porch stairs. It was clear she was pissed, and Realm’s gut twisted with worry that he’d be the one she blamed. “James, I swear to God . . .” she warned.

  James stopped, and turned slowly. “What, baby?” he asked sweetly. “It’s only for a week.”

  Sloane scoffed. “I don’t care that you’re going. Do what you want. But you sent me a text message.” She took out her phone and waggled it. “Did you think I wouldn’t want to ask you about it?”

  James pulled his bag from his shoulder and dropped it onto the grass. He walked back over to meet Sloane near the stairs. They were turned to each other, possibly arguing, but Realm could only see the way James would touch her, sliding his hand onto her neck and into her hair. The way his kissed the top of head in apology even as she was still talking.

  Despite the argument, they were happy together. There was no hope for him in this scenario. There never truly was. Realm lowered his eyes, unable to watch any more. It hurt like hell.

  There was movement, a hug, a kiss. “When I get back,” James called to Sloane in a flirtatious warning. Realm lifted his head to see James pointing at her, and Sloane laughing and slapping his hand away playfully.

  “You’re an idiot,” she told him. And then, like she’d just remembered Realm was standing there, she turned to him. His entire body wilted under her gaze. In her eyes he saw guilt and anger. A bit of pity.

  “Be safe, Realm,” she told him quietly. Realm forced a polite smile and nodded. Sloane waved good-bye to James, and turned to walk up the stairs toward the house.

  James blew out an exhausted breath and buried his hands in his pockets. He came to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Realm, and they both watched the house as Sloane disappeared inside.

  “I didn’t know she’d be home,” James said.

  “I see she still hates my guts,” Realm replied.

  “She hates them a little less.” James looked sideways, and Realm snorted a laugh.

  “That’s progress, I guess.”

  “Yeah. Now how did it go with Dallas?” James asked.

  “She forgives me.”

  “Good.”

  “Bad. She shouldn’t.”

  “You know,” James said, “you’re not nearly as awful as you think you are.”

  “No,” Realm said. “I’m worse.”

  James’s expression weakened, but Realm continued to stare straight ahead at the empty front porch. James opened his mouth to say something, but ultimately, he snapped it shut and put his hand on Realm’s shoulder, and squeezed it before walking to the SUV and climbing in the passenger side.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  REALM PARKED THE ESCALADE IN the small parking lot and stared at the brightly painted building. James took out a list, reading over a note he’d written himself, and nodded ahead.

  “This is where she works,” he said, picking up his coffee from the cup holder and taking a sip. He winced and scrunched his nose. “Terrible.” He set the drink back down.

  Now that they were at the diner, Realm wasn’t sure he was ready to go inside and find Ally to talk to her. He glanced at the messenger bag with her file, his heart in his throat. Could he really face her and tell her what he’d done? James had tracked her down to her workplace, surely that was a bad idea. Maybe they could wait . . . .

  “Look,” James said, reading his hesitance. “We should just go inside. We’ve driven all this way. And . . .” He paused, tilting his head, and Realm’s spirit lifted, thankful that he wasn’t doing this alone. “Honestly,” James continued, “my coffee’s cold and really gross. I’d love a fresh cup.”

  Realm laughed. “For a moment,” he told James, “I thought you were going to say something heartfelt.”

  James stared back at him like that was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard. “Sure, Michael. You’re saving lives, setting right the wrongs of society, an angel among—”

  “Yeah, I get it,” Realm said, unbuckling his seat belt.

  “So we’re going in, yes?” James asked.

  Realm lifted one shoulder in indifference and James grinned and got out of the SUV. Realm grabbed the messenger bag with the files, his heart thumping a little harder, and followed James to the entrance.

  The bells on the glass door jingled as James walked in. Like usual, he didn’t look the slightest bit nervous—a show of easy confidence perfected to avoid The Program had now become a part of his personality.

  There was a handwritten note in chalk at the hostess booth that told them to seat themselves, so James grabbed two menus and headed to a table near the back. A few old men sitting at the counter gave them a passing glance before returning to their hotcakes. The diner reeked of grease and syrup, but it wasn’t altogether unpleasant.

  James sat down and began to immediately peruse the menu. As covertly as possible, Realm shifted his gaze around the room, searching for a blond-haired girl. It’d been over a year since he’d seen Allison Monroe—a patient he gotten to know in The Program. She’d told him her secrets, the ones she fought to keep hidden from the doctors. Realm had earned her trust, asked questions, and then relayed the information to the doctors for erasure.

  Realm swallowed hard, sickness bubbling in his stomach. He wasn’t sure he could face her. He looked over and found James watching him with a solemn expression. The confidence remained.

  “You can do this,” he said. “You’ve got this, Michael.”

  Realm’s heart ached a little, but this time it was because someone believed in him. James was the only person who trusted him at all anymore. But he had no business being here. He should be home with Sloane, doing happy shit.

  “Thank you,” Realm said.

  “Don’t mention it.” James went back to scanning his menu, avoiding any genuine conversation that might follow. An older woman came over to the table, holding a steaming pot of black coffee. She flipped over the cups in front of them, and James nodded enthusiastically when she began to pour. She smiled warmly at him. After she filled Realm’s cup, she told them their server would be over to take their order.

  James began to sip immediately from his coffee
, moaning out his appreciation, and Realm grabbed two sugars and a container of creamer. He glanced over at James, still feeling guilty for bringing him here. Then again, James didn’t do anything he didn’t want to. He was here because he actually cared. Realm didn’t think he deserved that kind of loyalty. Not from him.

  “It’s weird that we’re friends,” Realm said. “Especially after everything that happened.”

  James took another sip from his coffee, looking thoughtful. “No,” he said after a moment. “I don’t think it’s that weird. I actually think it shows what awesome people we are.” Realm laughed. “There’s no conflict. You don’t hate me for loving Sloane,” James continued. “And I don’t hate you for loving my girlfriend, since she loves me more.”

  “That’s big of you.”

  “Of course, if roles were reversed,” James said with a smile, “I’d hate your fucking guts. But otherwise I think everyone deserves to have friends.” James shrugged. “Although I make friends pretty easily, so I don’t know what your problem is.”

  “I’ve known a lot of people,” Realm said. “Not many friends, though. Guess that happens when you’re a liar, huh.”

  “We’re all liars,” James replied. “You’re not that special.”

  Realm and James stared at each other a moment, and then Realm nodded and looked down. He knew James forgave him for everything, that he didn’t even hold a grudge. There was no way he could hate a person like that.

  The door to the kitchen swung open and a girl started toward them, pulling out a small notepad from her apron. Realm recognized her immediately, but she was distracted, caught up in her work.

  Realm smiled; Ally looked well. Her blond hair was pulled into a neat ponytail; the circles under her eyes were gone; the hollows in her cheeks had filled in. She looked alive. He wanted to call to her, but found his voice gone. He felt James’s stare from across the table, but Realm was frozen in place. He didn’t even know where to start.

  “Talk to her . . . .” James sang out quietly as he sipped from his coffee.

  But then, before he could, Ally looked up. “Can I take your—” Her gaze fell on Realm and she took in a sharp breath and fell back a step. “Oh my God,” she said. “Realm?” Her face lit up. Damn, it hurt to know that in a minute he’d take that expression away.

  Realm got to his feet, and Ally rushed forward into his arms, pressing her cheek against his chest. Awkwardly Realm set his hands on her shoulders and told her it was good to see her. He pulled back to look down, feeling a familiar rush of affection. Although he hadn’t fallen for her, not the way he had with Sloane, Ally had been his friend. He cared for her.

  “I can’t believe you’re here,” she said, beaming. “Let me grab Tonya—I told her all about you.” But before she could rush away, Realm reached out to take her arm.

  “Ally,” he said quietly, startling her. “I need to talk to you. It’s . . . about The Program.”

  Her expression grew serious. “Why would you want to talk about that?” she asked. “They’re gone. They’re done, Realm. They can’t hurt us anymore.”

  He smiled sadly. “That’s true. But . . . I owe you an apology. If we can just talk—”

  “You have nothing to apologize for,” she said immediately. “You saved my life. Without you I wouldn’t have made it through those weeks. Whatever happened to me—you’re the one who kept me going. I know that for sure.”

  “That’s not entirely true,” Realm said, letting his hand fall from her arm. “You just can’t remember.”

  Something in his voice must have alarmed her, because Ally crossed her arms over her chest, red blooming on her cheeks. “What’s this about?” she asked, and looked over at James. Surprised, James lifted up his hands in surrender.

  “I have nothing to do with this,” he said. “Ignore me. I’m totally not here.” He picked up his cup and sipped from it, avoiding her gaze.

  Realm took a step closer to Ally and motioned for her to sit at another table. She scanned the room quickly for the other waitress, and when she didn’t see her, she followed Realm’s direction.

  The vinyl booth squeaked as Ally moved in. Realm sat next to her, wanting to keep his voice quiet. He’d never been so scared to talk before.

  “In The Program,” he started, his hands shaking in his lap, “I wasn’t . . . completely honest with you.” Realm saw the uncertainty in Ally’s eyes—she wanted to believe this wasn’t going to be bad news, but her intuition was telling her different.

  “Why did you come here?” she asked in a small voice.

  “Because I was a handler,” Realm said. “I was your handler, Ally.”

  She stared at him a long moment, the color draining from her cheeks. She gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. She didn’t argue the point, not even when the tears welled up and spilled onto her cheeks.

  She knew, Realm thought. On some level she knew I’d been too good to be true. Ally continued to cry, and Realm glanced up and found James looking concerned. Realm was hoping for something a little more helpful. He turned back to Ally, tempted to put his arm around her but knowing ultimately that it would be wrong. He wasn’t allowed to manipulate her anymore—not with his words, not with physical comfort. He’d come here to tell her.

  “I was an embedded handler,” Realm went on quietly. “I’d been hired by The Program to help with difficult patients, the ones who posed the most risk. Before they brought you in, I was briefed on your situation, had a file to study. When you showed up, all I had to be was a good guy—get you to trust me. I told the doctors the secrets you’d only shared with me. I was there to ensure they got everything. And they did. I gave them all of you.”

  Ally shook her head like she was trying to block out the words. Realm wanted to take away her pain with a simple lie or two, but he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t do that anymore. Ally looked up at him suddenly. “I told you about my sister, didn’t I?” she asked in a cracked voice. “That’s why I can’t remember what happened to her.”

  Realm nodded, remembering the nights Ally would cry to him about Marley—the sister who had taken her own life in the weeks before Ally broke down. She’d told Realm about Marley’s spiral into darkness, how she’d tried to help. How she held her sister’s hand when she died in the hospital after lapsing into a coma. The Program erased all of that. Michael Realm helped them erase all of that.

  Ally began to sob openly, earning stares from the men at the counter. James shifted uncomfortably and drained the rest of his coffee before pulling out cash to lay on the table in case they needed a quick exit.

  “They told me she’d gotten pneumonia,” Ally said. “But I knew they were lying to me. Saw it on my parents’ faces. I didn’t understand; I thought I was going crazy.”

  “It was a heart attack,” Realm said, staring down at the table. “She’d overdosed, and by the time you found her, there was . . .”

  “I found her?” Ally cried out. “No. No . . .” Allison covered her face with her palms, leaning forward as her shoulders racked with sobs. “What have you done?” she murmured. “What did you do to me?”

  Realm couldn’t take anymore—he wasn’t strong enough. This was breaking him, too, giving back all of this pain. Maybe he was wrong to have come here at all. “I’m sorry,” Realm said. “If I could—”

  Ally looked at him fiercely, black mascara streaked down her face. “I trusted you,” she snapped. “I thought you were my friend. I thought—” But she fell apart again. Realm swayed with her grief, and slid out of the booth. James’s eyes were downcast as Realm returned to the table and grabbed the messenger bag.

  “Meet you in the car,” James muttered, and got up. The other waitress came into the dining room, pausing near the men at the counter as James walked out.

  Realm returned to the table with Ally. She was wiping her cheeks, looking sick. Wrecked. She wouldn’t even turn in Realm’s direction. He reached inside the bag at his side and pulled out the file with Ally’s name on the tab.
He’d made a few extra notes, the things he could remember, both positive and negative. She deserved the truth. It was the only thing he had to offer.

  He set the file on the table and slid it toward her. Ally stared down at it, sniffling back her tears. “This is me, isn’t it?” she asked, not lifting her gaze. “This is who I used to be. This is what they did to me.” She looked up. “What you helped them do.”

  The disgust in her eyes was a dagger in his heart. “Yes.”

  Ally swallowed hard and ran her finger over the cover. She was quiet for a painfully long time. “Get out,” she said. “Go away, Michael Realm. I never want to see you again.”

  Realm tightened his jaw, trying to keep himself from breaking down. Without another word, he walked toward the door. The other people in the restaurant glared at him, even though he was sure they didn’t know the extent of his deceit. The waitress rushed past him to Ally’s side and he heard his old friend’s sobs as he reached the glass door and walked outside.

  CHAPTER SIX

  REALM WAS GRATEFUL TO SEE James in the driver’s seat of the Escalade. He climbed inside, and James backed up the SUV and drove them toward the motel they’d reserved for the night. The air in the car was thick with regret and guilt. Realm tried to be strong, he tried so fucking hard, but the tears came anyway. He hung his head and quietly let them bleed out. And when he was done, James didn’t bring it up. Instead he stopped at a fast-food drive-through and ordered six apple pies.

  They arrived at the Sunset Grove Motel, a spectacularly sketchy place on the outskirts of town. The plan was to leave early in the morning and head deeper into California. The next stop was a small town near Sacramento, but Realm was spent. He needed to regroup, accept his guilt, and move on. Easier imagined than done.

  Both guys got out of the SUV and glanced around, unimpressed, at the two-story building. Iron railings lined the outdoor walkway of the second floor, and the building’s sky-blue paint was peeling off in chunks. The sign itself was bright orange, the only likeness to a sunset in the place.