The Complication (The Program #6)(83)

The line rings, and we all exchange nervous glances. The sound echoes around the room, and I start to shake my leg under the table.

The phone rings four times, and when it clicks, I assume it’s voice mail and my heart dips. But instead, Realm says, “Hi, Tatum.”

I cover my mouth, stunned by the sound of his voice. The deep familiarity there. Affirmation that he still exists. Wes stares at me, wide-eyed.

“Realm,” I say, slightly out of breath. Nathan leans his elbows on the table, listening closely. “I . . . I need to talk to you. I have to see you.”

He coughs once, but when he talks, I think I hear a smile in his voice. “I figured,” he says. “I’m not in town right now. Can we meet tomorrow?”

“I don’t have much time,” I tell him shakily. “The Program has flagged me.”

“I know,” he says. “But you’ll be okay until then. Just . . . lay low. They can’t find Derek, so they have no idea that he got to you. As far as they’re concerned, he could have fled; they’re having a high rate of handlers disappearing. Happened before with closers, so they’re not alarmed. Not to mention I put it out there that Derek was somewhere in California.”

There is a prickle over my skin, a bit of awe, but also annoyance. He really does seem to be dialed in, but if that’s the case . . . “You let him try to take me?” I ask, betrayed. “You knew he was coming.”

Realm is silent for a moment, and under the table, Nathan puts his hand on my knee to steady my leg. I look sideways at him, and he presses his lips into a sad smile. I’m hurt that Realm could have stopped this and he didn’t. I mean, what the fuck, right?

“I couldn’t get there in time,” Realm says, coughing again. “I got the word out, though. They would have never gotten you out of that school. We still have people on our side, Tatum. Now . . . we have a lot to talk about. And I mean that sincerely.”

“We sure do,” I say, my voice darker. I’m angry with him. I don’t care what side he’s on because he failed me. “When?” I ask.

“Tomorrow morning,” he says, his voice scratchy. “There’s a café outside of town. I’ll text you the address.”

“She won’t be alone,” Wes says, and then flashes his teeth at me in apology for speaking up.

Realm laughs softly. “I didn’t think she would be. Now, whoever else is there,” Realm says. “I’m guessing Nathan?”

“And Foster,” Nathan says.

“Okay, good,” Realm responds. “It’s important to keep up appearances. I know that sounds impossible, but I need to know who the other handlers are. Melody hadn’t figured it all out yet.”

Nathan shifts next to me, his hands balling into fists on the table.

“Tatum won’t be at school tomorrow, so I need the two of you to keep your eyes out. Who asks about her? Who leaves early? We . . .” He gets quiet for a minute, the line covered. “Avoid the monitor,” he says after a moment.

Nathan looks ready to argue, but I think Realm is right. There’s no sense in all of us going to meet him. Besides, I want to know who the other handlers are too. I need to know who to watch out for.

“You should know that Marie is looking for you,” I warn Realm.

“No doubt,” he replies. “I’d hoped to avoid her, but it seems inevitable now.”

“Why?” I ask, furrowing my brow.

“Another conversation,” he says, and pauses. And then his mouth is close to the receiver when he murmurs, “I’m sorry this is happening to you, Tatum. I truly did try to fix it.”

His words are suddenly intimate, and I lean into the table, exposed by Realm’s tone. The tenderness back in my heart.

“We really were friends,” I say, like it’s just us in the room. “We were good friends, weren’t we?”

“Yeah, sweetness,” he replies, sounding relieved. “We really were.”

I fall quiet and dart a look at Wes. He shrugs one shoulder and rolls his gaze away.

“And I won’t let them hurt you anymore,” Realm adds. “Do you believe that?”

“I believe you’ll try,” I say honestly. Knowing that he doesn’t have that power. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Be careful,” he replies.

And then Michael Realm hangs up, and I click off my phone.

The four of us sit silently for a moment in Wes’s basement, staring at the phone in the middle of the table. It’s Foster who talks first.

“So he’s full of shit, yeah?” he asks, waiting for consensus.

“Definitely,” Wes says immediately.

“Pretty much,” Nathan agrees with a nod.

When I look around at them, Foster smiles at me first. “So I guess I’m stuck doing our lab report tomorrow?” he says.

“We’re going to school?” Nathan asks him seriously.

“We have to,” Foster replies. “I have an idea of who the handlers might be. I’ve actually been paying attention. I want them exposed, and you need to keep an eye on the monitor. Field any questions about Tatum.”

“You just want to keep an eye on your boyfriend,” Nathan says under his breath.

“That too,” Foster says, and grins.