The Recovery (3 page)

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.

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.

“Charming,” James said, taking out his wallet. “I’ll grab the room, you get the bags,” he said. Realm nodded and James started toward the office lobby.

Realm stretched his arms over his head, cracking his neck to the left and then the right. He walked to the back of the Escalade and opened the trunk. He slid on James’s backpack and then looped his duffel bag straps onto his forearm before grabbing the messenger bag. He slammed the trunk shut, and when he turned, he noticed a girl two cars down leaning against the hood of a Honda, texting on her phone.

She was out of place at the motel just as much as he and James were. She was pretty, with long legs and jet-black hair that fell to the middle of her back. She had a flannel tied around her waist, one boot up on the bumper of the car. The girl turned to him as if she could feel him staring and Realm nearly dropped his bags, trying to hide the fact that he was. He circled to the front of his SUV, wishing James would hurry. He kept his eyes trained straight ahead, avoiding the urge to look the girl’s way. Of course, the moments dragged on.
What the hell was James doing?

“The computers are down,” the girl called, startling Realm. He turned to her, lifting his eyebrows as if surprised to see her there.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Cash only because the computers are down. I had to call a friend to bring me money; the dick in there wouldn’t take my card. Guess that’s what I get for staying at a place with negative stars on Yelp.”

Realm smiled, setting down his bags now that he knew he’d be there for a bit. James had money, but Realm couldn’t imagine him giving it up without an argument. The girl went back to her phone, and Realm studied her until she looked over. He smiled.

“I’m Michael Realm,” he said. “But most people just call me Realm.”

“Thanks for oversharing.” Her thumbs moved over her the letters on her phone again.

Realm ran his hand through his hair, completely shut down, but not surprised. Another few minutes passed, and he heard the girl exhale loudly.

“Are you an asshole, Michael?” she asked.

He laughed. “What?”

“An asshole. Because you look like a really nice guy, and I’ve found they make the biggest closet assholes.”

Realm thought for a moment, and then shrugged. “Yeah, actually. I guess I kind of am.”

“Totally called it,” she said. But she smiled, and Realm guessed she was mostly joking—the sort of joking used to avoid getting to know people. A tactic he’d seen with patients in The Program.

Thumping bass from a car stereo filtered into the air just as a yellow Mustang came into view on the road. When it pulled into the lot, the girl cast a backward glance at Realm, and then approached the driver’s side of the car. The guy behind the wheel was talking, his face pulled into a sneer.

Just then, to Realm’s relief, James came out of the office, looking annoyed. He motioned toward the stairs and Realm picked up the bags to follow. He met him on the landing, and saw James check him over and then look at the girl.

“Making friends?” he asked with a smirk.

“You know me,” Realm said. “Always looking for another bad decision to make.”

James laughed and they walked down to room 237. He slipped the keycard into the lock and pushed the door open with his foot, taking a tentative look around before turning back to Realm.
“I talked the guy into giving us the best room. And if this is it, we would have been screwed otherwise. Thank God I’m so persuasive.”

Realm moved past him into the room. Of course, he’d been right; the place was a dump. Yellow, floral-patterned wallpaper that was probably once white. Navy-blue bedsheets with threads snagged and hanging out. “At least it doesn’t smell,” Realm said, testing out the bed and deciding that it was passable. It was only for a night.

Realm noticed when the bass from the Mustang’s stereo faded, driving off the premises. He wondered briefly about the girl, but once James shut the door and took up space on the other twin bed, Realm forgot about her and thought about tomorrow.

“Is it worth it?” he asked James. “What I’m doing to them . . . is it worth it?”

“Yes,” James said without hesitation. “You owe them the truth. And the more you give them, the less you have to carry.”

Realm considered the statement, and although he was still raw from his interaction with Ally, deep down, he did feel slightly better. Lighter. He had a long way to go, but he was starting to see that this would help him. This would help him forgive himself.

•  •  •

It was the middle of the night when Realm heard a rustling sound, a sniffle. He was drawn awake. Alarmed, he turned and found James awake in bed, the lights from the neon sign of the motel filtering in through the thin curtains and falling over his face.

“James?” Realm asked, sitting up. “You okay?” Across the room, James was flat on his back, staring at the ceiling. Realm wondered if he’d had another nightmare, something that plagued him from time to time since taking the Treatment. Memories that would haunt him.

“No,” James replied, his voice scratchy.
“I can’t stop thinking.”

“You know better,” Realm said, trying to lighten the moment. But then James shifted his eyes to look at Realm and it silenced him.

“I love her, you know,” James said, sounding far too vulnerable, too sad.

“Yeah, I know,” Realm said. Normally he’d want to avoid a conversation about Sloane, but it was clear James needed to talk. “She loves you, too,” Realm offered with a slight twist in his gut.

James shook his head. “It’s not the same,” he said.