The Complication (The Program #6)(76)

“Things have changed, Gram,” I say, scared of the truth in it. “Until The Program is dead and buried, we can’t trust anyone but each other. Do you understand?”

“Tatum,” Pop says, trying to sound calm. “Come home. At least let your grandmother take a look at your head. You could have a concussion.”

“I will,” I say. “Melody told me to act normal, whatever that is. But first, I’m going to swing by the Adjustment office to check if Marie’s there. See if Michael Realm is there. You need to keep looking for him, Pop.”

“I will,” he says.

“Oh, honey,” my grandmother moans, sounding terrified. “Come home.”

“I’m going to be fine, Gram,” I say, my stomach sinking at the worry in her voice. “I promise. I’ll see you both in a little bit.” Although reluctant, they say good-bye, and we hang up.

I sit a moment in the quiet of my Jeep. My skin prickles with leftover fear. I don’t ever want to experience anything like that again. I’ve already had it happen twice. And I need to make sure it never happens to anyone else.

Checking my mirrors, I pull back onto the street and head toward the Adjustment office. It’s a long shot; I know that. But I’m hoping Marie’s there, and part of me hopes Realm will be there. That he’ll just open my Jeep door and climb in.

It makes sense now, the way I trusted him, even though I didn’t think I knew him. The way he told me he cared about me. He did. He does, I guess. And there is a tender pain in my heart, and I wonder if it belongs to him.

I arrive in the empty Adjustment lot and park in front of the office. There don’t seem to be any lights on inside, but I get out and try the door anyway. I knock and ring the bell for ten minutes, but no one answers.

While there, I try the only number I have for Marie, but there isn’t a voice mail to leave a message. I have no idea how she expects me to bring Michael Realm to her when I can’t even find her.

I fold my hands on top of my head to look around but wince at the pain. I gingerly touch the knot on the side of my head. I think I need an ice pack and a few ibuprofen. Thinking about it, I wrap my arms around myself, not wanting to admit feeling weak.

I’ll have to loop in Nathan and Foster about Derek, about the handlers. Hell, there’s even the true and catastrophic story of me and Wes to deal with. But for now, all I want is to feel safe. To remember what that was like.

Even if it’s just an illusion.





CHAPTER FOUR


I GET BACK IN THE Jeep, waiting an extra minute in case Michael Realm magically shows up outside my door. When he doesn’t, I go over to the 7-Eleven to check inside, but he’s not there, either. Frustrated, I start driving. I’m not sure where to look.

Alone, my mind tries to replay the moment I was attacked at school. I shake my head, like I can shake out the memory. I roll down the windows, turn up the music, trying to tune out my own thoughts. My head hurts.

I see the turn for the river up ahead, and I take it. I haven’t been here since Wes was reset, but there are a ton of memories in this park, most of them tragic. Maybe that’s why it feels like the perfect place to go right now. I might need to wallow just a bit before I go home.

I find a parking spot, and then I get out and head toward the river. I walk along the water’s edge until I see the boulder that juts over the side. It’s like a favorite chair calling to me, and I feel nostalgic as I climb onto it and hug my knees to my chest, listening to the river rush past.

I could have died today. And, more concerning, I might still die today. Or tomorrow. The next day. I need Michael Realm to help me. I’m running out of time, and I don’t know what to do.

There’s a rumbling sound, and my stomach drops when a motorcycle pulls into the lot and parks next to my Jeep. I can see from here that it’s Wes, and I’m not sure if it’s a coincidence, or if he’s looking for me. I left my phone in the car, so I have no idea if he tried to call. I have no idea if he’s still mad at me for lying to him.

I shift on the boulder, letting my feet dangle over the side. I don’t watch Wes’s approach, but my heart has sped up since he arrived. He doesn’t call out, and when he gets to the boulder, he sits down beside me without a single word.

I keep my breathing measured, afraid to ask him why he’s here. When the silence goes on too long, I look sideways at him while he watches the river.

“I’m failing English, by the way,” he says. He picks up a pebble from the boulder and tosses it into the water. “That’s why I was reading in the library.”

“Failing?” I ask, surprised. I don’t know why he’s telling me this, but Wes has always been an A student—the sort you resent because he rarely has to try.

“I guess when you miss a lot of school and get your memory erased, it’s hard to catch up,” he adds.

“I bet it is,” I say, imagining my own work piling up. But it seems petty to worry about grades right now.

“Want to tutor me?” Wes suggests, and turns. His expression has softened since I saw him at school. I smile, and there’s a twinge in my head at the movement. I rub the bump under my hair.

“I’m not really in a place to provide much help,” I tell him honestly.

“Okay. How about you just talk to me, then?” he asks like it was his real intention. “I should have . . . I should have run after you at school. I was full of shit when I said I wouldn’t chase you. I would. I am. But you hurt me, Tate. You may not have meant to, but you wrecked me.”