“I’m not in trouble,” Realm said, sitting in the chair across from Anthony. “But . . . I am here to talk to you about The Program.” Anthony flinched, but quickly regained his composure.
“Okay,” he said. “What’s up?”
Realm didn’t want to say any more. He wanted to walk out the door, run away. But he was here because he couldn’t live with what he’d done. He had to face this.
“I was a handler, Anthony. I was your handler in The Program.”
Anthony furrowed his brow, staring back at Realm in confusion. He licked his lips and leaned forward, trying to work out what that meant. Realm took a breath and continued.
“I was embedded, and I was assigned to patients who were high-risk, who they thought would fight. I was assigned to you.”
Anthony straightened. “And what exactly did you do as my handler, Realm?” he asked in a strained voice.
“I gathered information, clarified memories. And then I fed them to the doctors to make sure they targeted the right things.” Realm stopped, lowering his eyes. He had a flash of a memory.
One night when they were playing cards, Anthony told him about his brother Josiah. He said that Realm reminded him of his brother because he was everyone’s friend. But then Anthony broke down, cried right there at the table. Josiah had poisoned himself with QuikDeath. He’d begged Anthony to do the same before The Program got to him.
“But I wasn’t brave enough,” Anthony had told him. “I was a fucking failure because I couldn’t be big and bad like my older brother. He tried to save me from this. And now nothing will ever be the same. The Program will take it all.”
He was right. They did.
Realm wouldn’t keep any more secrets. He sat in Anthony’s living room and told him everything, every detail he could remember. His old friend listened, eventually sliding down to sit on the couch cushions, holding back any tears that threatened to fall. And when Realm was done, Anthony kept his eyes downcast, unable to look at him at all.
“I . . . um . . . I brought you a file,” Realm said, standing up and reaching into the messenger bag. “It covers everything I know.” Anthony made no move to take the file, so Realm set it on the coffee table. “I should go,” he said, but Anthony stood quickly.
“Why did you do this?” he asked. “What if you made me sick again?”
Realm had considered that possibility before setting out on this mission. But the truth was, he didn’t believe the knowledge would harm them. The Program’s pressure fed the epidemic—not the memories. And even if he was wrong, telling someone their memory was far different from them experiencing it. The threat was no longer there. “I’m here because you deserve to know who you were,” Realm said. “And because . . . I wanted you to know how sorry I am. Truly.”
Realm started toward the door and he heard Anthony behind him. When he turned, Anthony Winters pulled him into a hug, tight and full of hurt, but a hug nonetheless.
“Thank you,” Anthony whispered. “Thank you for giving me back my brothers.”
Realm’s breath caught, the forgiveness in Anthony’s voice overwhelming him. He hugged him back, and then Realm walked out the door and into the sun, tears stinging his eyes. He hurried to the SUV and got in, sniffling and wiping his nose. James turned to him.
“I’m glad it went well,” he said quietly.
“Yeah,” Realm replied, looking out the window. “Me too.”
CHAPTER NINE
THERE WERE STILL THREE PEOPLE on the list, but James hadn’t been able to track them yet. He and Realm decided to head back to Oregon, even though Realm was eager to get this part of his life over with.
“We could stay longer,” James offered while the Escalade climbed the Siskiyou Mountains toward home. “I can call Sloane later and tell her—”
“Why?” Realm asked, looking sideways at him. “Why would you do that?” Although James had told him a little about his fears with Sloane not remembering, Realm couldn’t understand why he wasn’t trying harder. Why he would stay away.
James didn’t talk for a moment, his jaw working as he considered his words. “Because she deserves better than me,” he said finally.
“You’re kidding, right?” Realm asked.
“No.”
Realm was completely caught off guard, and glanced at the woods on the side of the interstate, trying to figure out James’s thought process. He couldn’t. “Okay,” Realm said, turning to him. “I’ll admit this is a bit of a conflict of interest,” he said, “considering I thought I was the right person for her for a long time. But I was wrong. Why in the world would you ever think you weren’t good enough? You’re annoyingly good.”
“See,” James said, tapping his temple, “I remember that’s not true. After Miller died . . . I failed her. I promised to keep us both safe, but instead, she had to keep me safe. She gave up everything to try to save me. She fought so fucking hard, Michael. I remember how she begged me to come back. But I was too weak. If I would have been stronger, she would have never gone into The Program in the first place. Don’t you understand?” He looked at Realm, tears welling up in his eyes. “I’m the reason she was erased. Not you.”
James turned back to the road, and Realm stared at him in disbelief. Then he laughed, startling James into looking at him again. “Damn,” Realm said. “We are both pathetic.”
“What?” James asked.
“We blame ourselves for everything. Jesus. Do you really think it was your fault? Your best friend killed himself and you grieved—yet the entire Program is your fault? Sloane’s therapy was your fault? Wait, did you cause global warming? You’re an asshole.”
James’s mouth flinched with a smile, but he shook his head. “Don’t make jokes right now. I’m feeling sorry for myself.”
“Obviously. But I’m going to be real here,” Realm said. “You need to go back to your girlfriend. You said she fought for you, but you must have forgotten the part where you fought for her, too. Where you spent years making sure neither of you got flagged. How you lied in The Program for as long as you could to protect her. How you threatened to kick my ass for being rude to her, even though you had no idea she was your girlfriend.” Realm groaned, and leaned his head back against the seat. “And do you remember when the Treatment kicked in?” Realm asked.
James flinched. “Of course.”
“You could have died,” Realm said simply. They had never talked about the days following James’s escape from the handlers, how difficult they had been. That very night at the motel—one that Asa had secured before leaving to return to The Program—James’s memories had started to flood back.
Within moments, James was curled up on the ratty carpet, crying for Brady and Miller. For Sloane. This was the side effect of the Treatment they had been warned about. All the memories crashing back at once, some out of order. Some too dark to handle.
But Realm had been through it before. He’d survived the Treatment, and although he wasn’t a fan of James, he saved him. Like when James remembered how he’d carved Miller’s name into his arm, the absolute grief of it all.
James started screaming and Realm was worried they’d be discovered. He wrestled James into the small bathroom and pushed him into the tub before turning on the cold water. The shock worked to get him through that moment. James looked up from the tub, wet and teary-eyed. “We have to save Sloane,” he said desperately.
The attacks continued, again and again. But each time that James made it through, Realm found himself respecting him more. Admiring his determination. Eventually, Realm joked that when he grew up, he wanted to be just like James.
“But you didn’t die,” Realm said, looking over to where James sat behind the steering wheel. “You’re a nice guy, James. What you’re doing right now, ‘Sloane deserves better,’” he mimicked. “Total nice-guy move. Stop it. You make the rest of us look bad.”
James glanced over. “Says the person who’s seeking out former patients to give them back their memorie
s. Yeah, you’re terrible, Michael.”
Realm smiled, the combination of Anthony’s forgiveness and James’s comment hitting him in the right way, making it a good day. He hoped the first of many, or at least a few.
“All right, fine,” James said. “We’ll spend the night in Ashland, and then . . . then tomorrow I’ll go home. But I’m telling Sloane it was your idea.”
“Maybe she’ll hate me a little less.” Realm was struck with a bit of sadness at the reminder of her feelings.
“She still cares about you, otherwise she couldn’t hate you at all,” James said evenly. “She’ll forgive you.”
Realm thought about the file in his bag, the one with Sloane’s name on it. He’d be lying if he didn’t admit that giving it to her had been his end goal, the last piece in his guilt puzzle. But now he realized it wasn’t about him. He’d give James the file to bring to her. Realm didn’t need or deserve her gratitude. Those were her thoughts, her memories. He wouldn’t take credit for giving them back.
The SUV cleared the mountains, and Realm leaned his elbow on the door. “I could really go for an apple pie,” he mumbled.
• • •
The hotel was a step up from the Sunset Grove. The halls were indoors and the lobby promised a continental breakfast with waffles in the morning. Once upstairs, Realm gave James the folder and asked him to give it to Sloane. He agreed, and Realm wasn’t surprised when James put it away without reading it.
He admired him, and not just because of his relationship with Sloane. James always did what he thought was right, even if meant losing himself. Even if it meant looking like an asshole. Realm’s biggest regret was agreeing to the handler contract. If James had been offered the same thing, Realm was sure he would have figured a way out without being lobotomized.
But James wasn’t offered a contract. Instead, he’d taken the Treatment and would have his own responsibilities to carry for the rest of his life. But Realm was certain he’d figure out how, and that Sloane would be there to help him.
Realm closed his eyes on the hotel room bed, pushing away the sadness that came with thinking of Sloane. And instead he tried to be happy for James, for Anthony and Ally. For Dallas. He even tried to find a little bit of happiness for himself.
CHAPTER TEN
REALM WOKE TO THE SOUND of a vacuum in a neighboring room. He groaned and turned to look at the clock on the side table, noting it was after nine. “James, get up,” he said, and swung his legs out from under the sheets. There was no answer.
“James.” He turned to the other bed, but found it empty. Realm ran his hand through his hair, and then he noticed that James’s backpack was gone. Realm jumped up and crossed the room, his heart thumping.
There was a note scratched on the hotel stationery next to the bed. Realm’s pulse quieted, his initial fear a side effect of The Program. He was sure he’d never stop checking over his shoulder, even though there was no longer anyone pursuing them.
Realm picked up the note and dropped onto the bed to read it.
Michael,
Sorry, I hate good-byes. I’m catching a bus back home, but you need to finish your list. Not for them, for you. You deserve to be happy. And if you don’t believe it, imagine me standing there telling you you’re being a dipshit.
I’m proud of you. See you soon.
—J
Realm smiled to himself and folded the note. He brought it over to his duffel bag and stashed it inside. He took in a heavy breath and scanned the empty room, fighting the loneliness that wanted to sink in. There were three more people on the list. After that—maybe he could return home, start over. Maybe then he’d be proud of himself.
Realm showered and got dressed, packing up his things and checking over the list: Drea, Asa, and Tabitha. He had an idea of where to start looking for them. He’d keep searching until he found them.
After breakfast, Realm checked out of the hotel and walked across the parking lot, the sun shining and a soft breeze to cut the heat. A perfect day. Realm threw his bags in the back of the Escalade and got in the driver’s seat.
The passenger door opened, startling him, and Realm turned quickly. Dallas Stone dropped onto the seat and slammed the door shut. Realm sucked in a breath, not only stunned to see her again, but also completely confused as to how she got there.
“James called me in Florida yesterday,” she said, hitching up one eyebrow. “He gave me this address and told me he didn’t want you to be alone. I asked him why the hell he was calling me.”
“What?” Realm said, his surprise turning to annoyance. “James called? Dallas, I—”
“Save it,” she replied. “James was right. You shouldn’t be alone. I didn’t want you to be alone. And before you start arguing, I’ve already ran through all of your excuses on the way here. None of them are good enough. Here’s the thing, Realm. If you’re going on this recovery tour, I’m going with you. I have my own guilt to face.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Realm said without hesitation.
Dallas smiled. “Don’t be sweet,” she teased. “It won’t get you out of this. You need a partner and I’m great at tracking people. Better than James Murphy, at least.”
“James is pretty good.”
“I’m better.”
Realm smiled to himself and ran his gaze over Dallas, noticing her knee-high boots, her off-the-shoulder T-shirt. She would certainly be a distraction. But more important, he didn’t want to drag her into this; he didn’t want to lead her on, either. He’d done that too many times before, unable to stay away even when he should have.
“You can’t come with me, Dal,” he said quietly. “It’s not fair to you.”
“So we can’t be friends?” she challenged. “What if I were Sloane? Wouldn’t you give just about anything for her to be your friend again? Do you really think it’s any different for me? Stop doing what you think is best for me, Realm. I’m a big girl. I make my own decisions. And one of them is that I don’t think you’re as terrible as you imagine you are. So I’m going to be your friend. And we’re going to change some lives. That’s the kind of recovery I’m looking for.”
He knew she was right—that he would want Sloane to be his friend, just like Dallas wanted to be his. He wasn’t sure someone could be friends with a person who loved them. But more than that, Realm wondered how he’d stop himself from loving her back.
He looked at her, and her mouth pulled into a wide smile. That disarming smile that hooked him the first day she talked to him on the way to the locker room. No, he couldn’t push her away anymore. He didn’t want to.
“Fine,” Realm said, starting the SUV.
“Good,” Dallas replied easily. They were both quiet for a long moment, and then Dallas turned to stare straight ahead. “Hey,” she said. “What was that nickname you had for me when we were dating?”
A flash of embarrassment crossed Realm’s features and he lowered his eyes. “Sweetness,” he said quietly. It was an endearment he’d later used when talking to Sloane.
“Yeah, that’s the one,” Dallas said with a nod. She turned to him and grinned. “Don’t ever fucking call me that again.”
Realm choked out a laugh, and agreed. He’d forgotten how much he adored Dallas’s bluntness. How much he adored her.
“It’s getting late,” he said, glancing at the sky. “We should head out. Can you grab my bag in the back? There’s a list in there and we need to find where Asa is staying.”
“Nope,” she said. “The first one is mine.” Dallas took out her phone and clicked into the notes. “There’s someone we have to go see.”
Realm narrowed his eyes. “Who?”
“We’re going to see about Casanova Gutierrez.”
Realm’s mouth flinched with a smile, the idea of seeing their old friend Cas a welcome change, even if that bastard nearly got them killed. But Realm knew he’d forgive him, just like Dallas had. He’d been a product of the system of fear The Program had created.
Not everyone could understand the mistakes they had all made—how The Program had changed them, cured them, ruined them. But Realm had learned that nothing lasted forever, not even his self-hatred.
Because there was hope. In forgiveness he’d begun to find himself again, and he didn’t want to stop. He put the SUV into gear, his foot on the brake, and turned to find Dallas watching him. Realm nodded to her, a silent agreement that they were in this together.
Dallas held out her hand, fingers spread. Realm looked down and a memory flooded him; it wasn’t tragic or even perfect. He thought about the first time he saw Dallas after receiving the Treatment. Realm had hunted her down and found her with a group of rebels—including Cas. Dallas didn’t know him, but then again, she felt like she did.
“So what’s your deal, Michael Realm?” she had asked late one night as the two sat on the back porch. A storm was brewing, clouding the stars above the field with gray. “I don’t think I’m being subtle,” she said, turning to him and grinning. Realm felt it in his heart, that blast of affection he knew he didn’t deserve.
“I’m not the right guy for you, Dal,” he said, running his eyes over her. Noting how thin she’d become, but still so fucking gorgeous.
“That so?” Dallas replied, setting her hand on the porch step between them to lean closer, studying him like she was trying to discern if it was true. “Well, then, I guess I like the wrong kind of guy.” Her lips pulled into a wide smile and Realm toppled back into her world for the night, forgetting his good intentions, only to be gone in the morning.
The Recovery Page 4
