The Treatment (The Program #2)

CHAPTER Six

IT’S LATE. I’M LYING IN BED, CLOSE TO THE WINDOW

because I understand what Realm meant at the other house—

there is a claustrophobic aftereffect of The Program. A light flips on in the backyard, and I immediately sit up, my stomach lurching with fear.

Slowly, I slide the curtain aside and peer out. It takes a second to find them, but then I see Dallas and Cas on the lawn.

Dallas’s laughing—a genuine emotion of happiness—as Cas has his switchblade, flipping it open and waving around like he’s from West Side Story. I smile too.

I slip my arms into my sweater and push my feet into my sneakers, and head downstairs. When I push open the back screen door, they both spin to face me—Cas’s knife is gripped in his hand and pointed at me.

“You scared the shit out of me,” he says. Dallas rolls her eyes, and I consider going back upstairs, but ultimately I’m too awake to sleep. And I definitely don’t want to lie in bed and think all night.

“Do you mind if I stay out here for a while?” I ask.

“Of course you can,” Cas says quickly. “I’m just showing Dallas how to defend herself. You know”—he glances back at her—“since she’s so delicate and demur.”

“Suck it, Cas,” she says, pulling her dreads up into a high knot. “I guarantee I can put you down in less than five seconds.”

Cas flips his blade closed and pulls off his jacket, tossing it to me. “Ooo . . .” he says. “I like that challenge. Wanna put down money, Sloane?”

I laugh. “I’m definitely taking Dallas on this one.”

“Smart girl,” Dallas says, and starts dancing from foot to foot like she’s a boxer. The night is quiet behind us, the thick trees lining the property, keeping us safe from neighbors. It’s cool but comfortable outside. I see the stump of a tree and go to sit down on it, completely entertained.

“All right, baby,” Cas says, brushing his hair behind his ears.

“If I hurt you, you’d better not hold a grudge.” Dallas nods mockingly. “Sure thing, Casanova. And if your man bits lose their ability to reproduce, I hope there are no hard feelings.”

Cas drops his arms. “Hey! You can’t—”

Dallas springs, sweeping his feet out from under him. At the same time, her hands shoot forward, knocking Cas back.

He barely has time to react and ends up flat on the grass, moaning. Dallas drops into a squat next to him.

“Was I too rough?” she says in a baby voice. Cas starts to laugh, shaking his head. Dallas offers her hand and helps him up.

Even though she just kicked his ass, Dallas and Cas go at it again and again, nearly every time ending with Dallas triumphant.

“Want to give it a whirl?” Dallas asks me. There’s a smudge of dirt over her brow from when Cas tried to reach her from the ground.

“No, thanks,” I say, holding up my hands. “I think I’d rather fight Cas.”

“Hey!” he calls with a laugh. Cas gets up, swiping the grass stains on his jeans, which are past the point of return. He comes to sit on the stump next to me, smelling like earth and soap.

Dallas walks over, stretching her arms to one side as she works out a kink in her shoulder.

“I meant to tell you,” she says. “I got in touch with an insider. The Program is still looking for James.” At the mention of his name in combination with The Program, my muscles tense. “Relax,” Dallas says, reading my anxiety. “This is good news. It means he got away. James is safe, hiding out somewhere. Now it’s just a matter of us tracking him down.”

“He’s okay?” I ask, too scared to be hopeful.

“It appears so,” Dallas says. “Does that turn your frown upside down?” she teases, trying to get me to smile. My relief is absolute.

“Yes,” I say honestly, blowing out a measured breath. “It certainly does.” I’m weightless. Even though James isn’t here now, Dallas said it was only a matter time. And I trust her. After all this time, I finally trust her.

“I don’t have The Treatment anymore,” I confess. “James accidently took it. We left the pill behind with him.” Cas turns suddenly, confusion crossing his features. “Are you serious?” he asks. “You don’t have it here?” He and Dallas exchange a look, and I wonder if I’ve made a mistake confiding in them.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” I say. “I wasn’t sure—”

“Sloane,” Dallas interrupts, “it’s fine. It’s not like we’ve only been tolerating you for The Treatment.” She pauses. “Okay, maybe at first. But now, hell—we’re, like, almost-friends.” She flashes her wide smile, and the tension evaporates. “Besides,” she adds, “James will be back soon anyway with The Treatment.

Then we’ll figure out what to do next.” Cas agrees, and I’m so grateful they’re not mad. If anything, it might make them search for James a little harder.

“Oh.” Dallas snaps her fingers and looks at Cas. “We’re low on funds and I need to pay for some information. Got a connection?”

Cas grabs a bottle of water sitting on the grass and takes a sip. It hadn’t occurred to me that we needed money. On the first day, Dallas and Cas collected what Realm’s sister had given us. I never thought to question where else they get money from.

“I’ll get us the cash,” Cas says, sounding exhausted. “I haven’t let you down yet, have I?” Dallas shakes her head.

“Where does the money come from?” I ask. Cas side-eyes me, and takes another drink.

“He never says,” Dallas announces. “I think he’s a thief, but I figure we’re all allowed our secrets. And if my little klepto wants to borrow from the more fortunate, then so be it. It’s keeping us fed.”

“One day we’ll have lobster and steak,” he says, grinning behind the top of his water.

“You cook,” Dallas says.

“Hell yes. I’m not going to let you burn it.” We’re all smiling, but it has to be at least three in the morning by now. I say my good nights, and Dallas and Cas stay behind. I don’t think they’re going to fight anymore. I don’t think they’re going to hook up, either. It makes me like them both a little more in a weird way. Their friendship is so honest and easy, and once again I see another side of Dallas.

Combined with the news that James is currently safe from The Program for now, and I almost hopeful about this whole situation.

The days pass slowly, comfortably. It’s early one morning when I find Realm by the back door, a wide smile plastered across his face. It’s so out of character that I actually look around the kitchen to make sure I’m not missing something. When I see it’s just us, I put my hand on my hip and laugh.

“What?” I ask, returning his smile. Rather than answer, Realm takes the handle of the back door and opens it. I stare out over the yard, my eyes widening as a gentle breeze that smells like grass blows in. There are at least six deer in our backyard; one is a baby. They’re so beautiful. I take a step toward them, and Realm puts his finger to his lips.

“Shh . . .” he says, turning to watch them too. I go to stand next to him, and he puts his arm over my shoulders. “It’s hard to remember the good sometimes,” he whispers.

The deer continue to eat out of the old garden, and the baby is lying in the grass. The property is even prettier in the morning light: green and alive. How can there be a suicide epidemic when nature can be so soft and gentle? How can anything horrible happen in a place like this? I lean my head on Realm’s chest as we watch the deer, lost in a beauty we forgot existed.

“What are you guys doing?” Cas calls from behind us. One of the deer turns its head, its ears twitching. Cas stomps over to where we are, not quiet and not subtle. “Oh, shit,” he says, pointing to the yard. Two of the deer immediately scamper off, and the rest freeze, looking in our direction. “Should we kill one and eat it?” Cas asks.

I scoff and turn to stare at him. Realm chuckles, lowering his arm from my shoulders. By the time I look back at the deer, they’re gone. Disappointment weighs me down. I liked the feeling the deer gave me; I liked feeling small next to nature.

Cas sighs and then walks back into the kitchen, reaching into the lower cabinets to pull out a heavy pan. He fills it with water and sets it on the stove, clicking the burner to life. I think the idea of venison stew is still dancing through his head, but really he’s going to cook gross processed food they got from the gas station. Cas still hasn’t found money, but neither Realm nor Dallas is pressing him about it. I can see they’re getting nervous, though.

Realm comes over. “Hey,” he says. “Want to go for a walk?

It’s gorgeous outside.”

I look up, feeling calm for the first time in a while. It’s hard to stay angry in a place so beautiful. I agree and tell Cas to save us some food before Realm and I go out back.

The sun is shining, but the breeze is cool, and I wrap my arms around myself as we walk over the expansive lawn toward the creek, toward the woods beyond. On the other side of us is a massive mountain range, enclosing us in the safety of nature.

For a minute I’m reminded of when Realm and I were both in The Program. He brought me out to walk in the flower garden with him, and it gave me so much hope. It reminded me there was a world to go back to.

A small wooden bridge curves over the creek, and we pause in the middle of it and rest our elbows on the railing, gazing at the house and the woods. “What are we going to do with our lives?” I ask quietly. “How long do we live out here?”

“As long as we can.” He lowers his head, and I look sideways at him. “We’ll always have to keep moving,” he says. “As long as The Program is out there, we won’t be safe.”

I know he’s right, but to admit it crushes the contentment of the moment. I exhale, long and heavy, and then stare at the world once again—wishing it could always be like this.

“I want to tell you everything, Sloane,” Realm says quietly.

“But I don’t know if I can.”

My eyes are trained on the trees, but my heart begins to race. “Maybe it’s time you try,” I say. I’m not in denial; I’ve always know Realm was hiding something. But now, here, I’m scared of what he has to say.

Realm nods, leaning farther over the railing to study the streaming water below. “It’s about Dallas,” he murmurs. “I knew her before either of us were in The Program.” I pull my eyebrows together, processing his words. Dallas met him after she got out of The Program. “What?” I ask, turning to him.

Realm’s expression is filled with pain, regret. “She was my girlfriend before she went into The Program. She just doesn’t remember.”

“Oh, my God,” I say, covering my mouth. How could Dallas not know? How could Realm not tell her?

“Sloane,” he says, taking my wrist to pull my hand down.

“After I took The Treatment and got my memories back, I sought her out. I’ve been trying to keep her safe.”

“Why wouldn’t you tell her then? Why would you pretend you’d only just met? Were you manipulating her by using things from your past?”

“No,” he says quickly, but then swallows hard, looking down. “A little. I did what I had to do, though. You didn’t know her. She’s not like you, Sloane.”

“What does that mean?” I’m suddenly protective of Dallas, and my anger at Realm is growing exponentially.

“She’s not strong. Sure, she tries to be. She puts on a show.” He shakes his head. “But she’s not. Dallas may think she wants her memories back, but I can tell you right now that she can’t handle them. There was her bastard father, her suicide attempt.

And then there was me. I wasn’t exactly the best boyfriend.”

“I think you’re underestimating her.”

“You didn’t see her. I’m the reason Dallas went into The Program. I was suicidal, vicious, angry. I said horrible things.

I wanted her sad—I made her sad. And then . . .” He stops, turning to look at the lawn as he puts his palm over his mouth, coughing a cry into it before he can compose himself.

“What did you do?” I whisper.

“I called The Program and told them to take her.” My eyes widen, and then I’m a flurry of motion, slapping whatever part of him I can hit. “You son of a bitch!” I scream, trying to wound him. He takes it all, but soon my hands begin to hurt and my arms tire. “How could you?” I whimper, heartbroken for a girl who has been through too much. More than anyone ever should. He’s kept all this from her. It makes me wonder exactly what Realm is capable of. I drop down to sit on the bridge, overcome.

Realm looks at me, a small scratch—raised and red—on his cheek. “When I got my memories back,” he says, “finding Dallas was my first priority. And when I saw she was okay, I was so relieved. I’d been worried she didn’t survive. Believe me, I hate myself for what I did. Right away she and I fell back into a relationship of sorts. She’s vulnerable, especially to me.

“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 have never 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 in 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 ser-vice 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 and 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 f*cking 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.”

Suzanne Young's books