The Recovery (2 page)

He turned to stare down at his latte, wiping hard at his cheeks as the tears started to fall. He didn’t push away the pain. It was his and he would own it. He wouldn’t bury it again.

Realm waited a bit longer in the café, and after checking the time on his phone, he left and walked back to his rental car, heading for the
airport.

THE ESCALADE WAS IN LONG-TERM
parking when Realm landed at the Portland International Airport. He’d fallen asleep on the flight, and was still slightly groggy when his phone vibrated in pocket as he crossed the parking lot. He checked the caller ID and climbed inside the SUV.

“About time,” he said when he answered. “I’ve left messages.”

“Good for you,” James responded, the sound of running water in the background. “And now I’m calling you back. That’s how this system works, Michael.”

“Ah . . .” Realm said. “I see you’re in a friendly mood.”

James laughed. “I’m washing dishes. Let’s just say household chores put me in a sour mood.” There was a rustle and James’s voice was quieter off the line. “You sure?” he asked. The water stopped. “Okay,” James said to Realm. “Guilt trip achieved. Now, are you back in Oregon or are you still making poor decisions in Florida?”

“I’m in the airport parking lot,” Realm replied. “My sister’s staying at my house for a few weeks while she searches for a place.
I should probably check in with her.”

“Fine, but then we go,” James said. “It’s a long drive to Weed. We should probably get a head start.”

“Weed, California?” Realm asked. “Did you find an address for Ally?”

“Mm-hmm,” James said. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”

Realm smiled. “Naw, I knew you would. I just didn’t think she’d go back there.”

“Well, as usual, you’re wrong about girls,” James said. “I’ll pack a bag now. Sloane’s out, but I’ll let her parents know.”

“Uh . . .” Realm didn’t want to get involved in James and Sloane’s relationship (again), but he knew immediately that James leaving town without his girlfriend knowing wouldn’t exactly go over well.

“Don’t worry about it,” James said, anticipating Realm’s reaction. “Just hurry up.” The line went dead.

Realm waited a beat, confused. It wasn’t like James to avoid Sloane. They’d both been through hell to get back to each other. He hated to admit it, but Realm felt a twinge of hope. He quickly squashed it, though, and shifted the SUV into gear.

He hadn’t seen Sloane in weeks, and even then it’d been little more than a greeting. He made her uncomfortable, uneasy. And that made him feel like shit. So he tried to avoid being around her when he could. He didn’t blame her, of course. He’d lied to her. Manipulated her. The only reason she was around him at all was thanks to her boyfriend. Realm doubted she’d come anywhere near him otherwise.

Months earlier, Realm had told James he was a handler. They were both on the run, holed up in a seedy motel, making plans. Up until that day, Realm had hated James. Resented him for filling Sloane’s heart.

But Realm was there the day the handlers showed up at the
farmhouse to take the rebels into custody. When he heard the vans pull into the driveway, he darted into the woods, unable to warn the others. He hid in the trees, seeing everything.

He watched as James swallowed the only remaining pill of the Treatment—one Realm had given to Sloane so she could remember. Now James would have to carry the memories for both of them. And to his horror, Realm saw Roger—his old friend-turned-psychopath. Roger who had assaulted girls under the guise of a handler, abusing his power. Realm had snapped his arm once, and if he could have, he would have snapped his neck.

Realm saw Dallas fall apart, break open completely in the parking lot with the handlers. She stabbed Roger; she was like a wild animal trapped inside a fragile body.

Realm almost ran out then, but he knew it would be a bad move. The Program would take him, too. Instead, he scanned the handlers, looking for one that might be sympathetic to his cause. He found Asa—a friend . . . sort of. Realm was his handler in The Program. He’d helped Asa when he was first brought in as a patient. He also helped erase him. Eventually, Asa lost the urge to slit his wrists again and credited Realm with saving his life. Of course, he found out later that Realm was working for The Program, but Asa forgave him, and soon he became a handler too.

That afternoon at the farmhouse, Realm snuck out of the woods and got into Asa’s van, careful to avoid Roger (who was rolling around on the pavement in his own blood) and Arthur Pritchard. Realm grabbed a white coat out of the back and slicked his hair to the side. When Asa grabbed James and slid open the back door of the van, Michael didn’t say a word. Instead he met Asa’s stare, and the handler nodded and
quickly got in.

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.

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.

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.