The Program (The Program #1)(92)

“Then we should hurry up and get out of sight. You ready?”

I debate whether I want to purposely break the rules even more. Realm told me to stay alive, to stay safe. This could jeopardize both.

“You will have so much fun with me,” James whispers.

“Yeah?”

“I’ll try like hell.”

I sigh, taking one more cautious look around the hallway, and then before anyone can notice, I grab my stuff and follow James out of the school.

CHAPTER TWELVE

“SEE YOU HAVE YOUR DAD’S CAR AGAIN,” I SAY AS we drive.

“Stole it. He doesn’t like me to take it anymore. Something tells me that he never did, but he was trying to be nice after I got back from The Program.”

I twist my hands in my lap, not sure if I should bring up our past relationship. I notice as he drives that James has the string from my shirt still around his pinky. “Where are we going?” I ask.

“There’s this spot I found the other day. It’s . . . beautiful. I wanted to show someone, but, well. I don’t really have any friends.”

“Maybe it’s your sparkling personality.”

He laughs. “Come on, Sloane. I’m not that bad, am I?”

“You’re awful.”

His smile fades as he seems to think, taking us past fields and pastures. “I don’t like getting hurt,” he says. “I remember that, even from being a kid. I think it has to do with my mother leaving—even if I don’t know why or how—but I like to keep everything at a distance. That way it can’t destroy me.”

“You must have let Brady in,” I say quietly. He must have let me in once too.

James nods. “And now that relationship is gone and it kind of hurts. Knowing that I had something that isn’t there anymore. It’s like a hole in my chest. Sometimes I think that pain might kill me.”

I understand what he means. This emptiness that doesn’t seem to have a reason. Something that can’t be filled in. I know now what Realm meant when he said keeping one or two memories could drive you mad.

James exhales heavily and then goes to turn on the radio. “You’re ruining the fun, Sloane. This was supposed to cheer us up.”

“You’re right.” I settle back in the seat and watch him for a minute, liking the easy, calm expression on his face, especially when I know there’s something darker underneath. And that maybe the other side of that darkness is fierce love.

A love he had for me.

James turns onto a two-lane street, and I notice his arm again, the white scars that are there. Absently I reach out and run my index finger over them, and he takes in a quick breath.

“Sorry,” I say, dropping my hand. “I’m just wondering what they’re from.”

“It’s okay,” he says. “When I got back I asked my dad about them. He said I had had an ugly tattoo, and The Program removed it. Strange, right? That they’d just take ink off my body. If I’d known they were going to do that, I might have gotten a special message for them tattooed on my ass.”

“Graphic.”

He laughs. “Sorry.” James looks at me, his eyes traveling over me like he’s trying to figure me out. “It felt nice,” he says quietly. “When you touched me like that.”

Butterflies flutter in my stomach, but James goes back to watching the road. I reach out again, my fingers trembling slightly as I run them carefully over his scars. Tracing the patterns there.

I watch as his shoulders relax and his mouth softens into a smile. His skin is so warm, and I think that I must have liked touching him before. I lean forward and press a gentle kiss onto his scars. And then I straighten and look out the passenger window, desire filling my entire body.

“I kissed it and made it all better,” I say.

And it’s quiet until James responds, “Yes, you did.”

• • •

My pulse has mostly calmed when James pulls up next to a grassy hill. He shuts off his car and then reaches into the back to grab a blanket.

“This is it,” he says, sounding pleased. I stare out the window, my heart in my throat. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

“It’s . . .” I try to catch my breath, push away the sadness. “We’re at the river,” I say.

“I know it’s a little cold out, but this place is gorgeous,” he tells me, as if I need convincing. As if this is the first time I’ve been here.

I look over at him, tears in my eyes. “I know,” I say. “Brady used to take me here all the time.”

James’s face falters, and he glances down at the towel in his hands. I can see him searching for the memories and I know the minute he can’t find them. “Sorry,” he murmurs. “We should—”

“No,” I say. “I love this place. Honestly.” And I mean it. If I was ever going to feel close to my brother, it would be here. James seems comforted by this as he climbs out of the car. He waits for me before walking over the grass.

The river is breathtaking. The sun glitters off the surface as tiny ripples wrap around the bigger rocks on the side. “This is even better than I remember,” I say.

“I was hoping you’d like it.”

I look sideways at him. “You thought of me?”