The Complication (The Program #6)(79)

And yet, Melody was certain we’d been friends. Even I’m sort of certain of that, although I can’t prove why. I’m not sure how to reconcile these two versions of Michael Realm. What else is missing?

“I have to find him,” I tell Wes. “Find him in person. Can you help me?”

“You want me to take you to your handler?” he asks, doubtful.

“I think he’s on my side,” I say, mostly believing it. “I think he’s on our side.”

Wes watches me, the corner of his mouth flinching up. “Are you saying we’re on the same side?” he asks, his voice lower.

“Yes,” I say.

He smiles broadly and looks down as he reaches to take my hand, playing with my fingers nonchalantly. He was always openly affectionate, and I forgot what that was like. It makes me melt a little.

“We’ll find your handler,” Wes says, sliding his fingers between mine and then out again. “But then what do we do with him?”

“We take him to Marie Devoroux. She said if she could perfect her cure for crashbacks, get it to the free market, The Program would be decimated. No point in having a mind-controlling service people are immune to. The company would be destroyed. And so would all their shareholders, politicians, or whoever the fuck runs it.”

“So . . . ,” Wes says, tracing his finger over my wrist. “You’re saying you want to take on the entire Program, including any doctors, handlers, or politicians who are working with them?” He lifts his eyes to mine.

I smile. “Sounds a little ambitious when you put it like that, but yeah—pretty much.”

There’s a distant boom of thunder, and Wes glances up at the sky. I do the same, noticing gray clouds have rolled in. The weather here changes so quickly, and it almost always ends in rain.

“Another storm,” he says. “Want to come over?”

I laugh. “I guess it depends,” I say. “Are you going to help me save the world or not?”

Wes stares at me a long moment, and then he takes my hand and squeezes it. “Tate,” he says seriously. “I thought that was already a given.”





CHAPTER FIVE


AS I FOLLOW BEHIND WES’S motorcycle in my Jeep, I put my phone on speaker and call home. My grandparents are understandably stunned that I’m with him, but when I tell my grandfather everything that Wes has learned, he’s impressed.

“I didn’t even think about checking with survivors’ groups,” he says, a little embarrassed. “Tell Wes if he’s interested in becoming a reporter, to let me know.” I smile, thinking about Wes and my grandfather working together, two supersleuths in a cramped newspaper office. Wes used to want to be a lawyer. I wonder what the new Wes wants to be.

“Nathan has been looking for you,” Gram adds in the background. “He and Foster came by a little earlier. And when I told them about Derek, they left here in a rush.”

I wish she hadn’t done that. Even the mention of Derek makes my stomach sick, my heart pound faster.

He hurt me.

I blink quickly, clearing my thoughts. Nathan is probably murderous right now, and he’s probably wondering what happened with Melody. I have to tell him what she said, that she really did love him. I have to tell him how she saved me.

“Thanks,” I say. “I’ll give him a call.” I’m tired of relaying the story of Derek, reliving it, so I guess it’s good that Gram got that part out there for me. I’ll just have to fill in the details.

“Let us know the minute you find Michael Realm,” Pop says.

“I will. Same to you.”

He tells me that he loves me, and then I hang up just as I arrive at Wes’s house.

I park in the driveway next to his bike, not bothering to hide my Jeep down the road like usual. I know all about our past, and frankly, now that Wes knows too, his mother’s threats are useless. She can’t bully me out of Wes’s life.

I’ve made mistakes, not all of them completely my fault, but I can try not to make any more. I’m not sure where we stand relationship-wise, but we’ll figure it out. We might even make the right decisions this time. For now, we just have to save the world. No pressure.

I quickly dial Nathan, but he doesn’t answer, making me nervous. I tell him to call me back, and that I’m at Wes’s house. I push the phone into my pocket and climb out of the Jeep.

Wes waits for me at his door, smiling and looking a little nervous. I wonder if he thought I was going to turn onto the freeway and drive away instead of coming here. The thought didn’t even cross my mind. I would have followed him anywhere.

“Parents aren’t home,” he says, watching my approach. “In case you were worried.”

“Now you won’t have to lock the door,” I say, and stop in front of him.

Wes’s smile fades. “I always lock the door,” he replies, and turns to push inside his basement apartment.

I realize that I’m nervous too. Beyond the life-altering shit that’s about to go down with The Program—I’m here with Wes. And I’m still not entirely sure how to act.

I understand what Michael Realm meant now, how remembering can be a curse. Because I remember things that Wes doesn’t. I remember how much he loved me. How much I loved him. The stuff they couldn’t take. The stuff that crashed back. So much history, and now it’s only mine.