The Remedy (The Program 0.5)(91)

“What’s going on?” I ask him. His expression devastates me, fills me with abandonment even before he says it.

“It’s time to say good-bye,” he says, smiling at the irony. “I have to leave, Quinn. You won’t see me again.”

My heart constricts, and I breathe out, “No.”

“Your car’s in the back, keys in the visor like always,” he continues calmly, like I’m just an assignment. “Marie had it brought here for you earlier. I’m going to drop off your dad’s car and then Myra and I are leaving town.”

“But your contract—”

“Canceled. My contract’s been canceled and I’ve been paid for my services. I leave today or I get nothing, do you understand? I’ve signed a confidentiality agreement and I can’t say any more.”

“From who? Aaron, you can’t just not tell me what’s happening. We’re partners.”

“Not anymore. And let’s be honest,” he says with a sad smile, “you never needed a partner.”

I reach out to grab the sleeve of his jacket, determined to hold him until he explains what’s going on. “Did my father do this?” I ask, incredulous. “Marie?”

Aaron gently unclasps my fingers from his sleeve, and then squeezes my hand with his. “It doesn’t matter,” he says. “My last assignment was to drop you off here. I wasn’t even supposed to say good-bye.” He tilts his head, looking me over with the admiration of a friend. Of my best friend. “But I wasn’t going to leave you without giving you closure. Hell, I didn’t want to leave you at all. But the grief department has ended my employment. My severance package is dependent on me skipping town within twenty-four hours.”

I plan to find out what role my father played in this, but I won’t let those thoughts steal away my last moments with Aaron. I lean in and hug him, my head resting on his shoulder. His familiar cologne filling my nostrils. “Does Deacon know?” I ask.

“Naw,” Aaron says, resting his chin on the top of my head. “That boy is going through something, and I don’t mean you. I didn’t want to add to his stress. Not to mention he’d be pretty pissed.”

“He’s going to kill you,” I agree, sniffling as I pull back to face Aaron for the last time. “And when he asks me about you?”

Aaron brushes a tear off my cheek. “Tell him the truth. I ran away without saying good-bye to him because it hurt too much to do it any other way. He’ll understand.”

“He’s going to be heartbroken.”

Aaron nods. “I know. Which is why you can’t leave him. He needs you. And whether you like it or not, Miss Badass, you kind of need him too.”

“He’s badass; I’m hard-core, remember?”

Aaron laughs and then closes his eyes, smiling and shaking his head like he can’t believe this is happening. When he looks at me again, he’s crying, but the tears aren’t just sad. I know the truth, and once I get over how much it hurts, I’ll be happy for him.

“I can’t believe it,” I whisper. “You’re actually free of the system.”

Our gazes linger for another moment, and then Aaron casts a look at the apartments outside my window. “You’d better go,” he says. “Marie said she’d be waiting. And you know how much she hates waiting.” Determined to not let this moment last forever, I reach behind the passenger seat and grab my backpack.

“Quinlan,” Aaron says hesitantly. “If you go after Virginia Pritchard, promise me you’ll be careful.”

I pause, tilting my head as I try to determine if there’s more to his warning, but he doesn’t go on. “I always am,” I tell him. Aaron smiles to himself and then nods his good-bye.

I climb out of the car and start toward the oversize apartment doors, stopping to look back. Aaron doesn’t lower the window, but he lifts his hand in a wave. I stand there and watch him shift gears, turn away, and drive off.

I gasp in a breath and put my hand over my heart. In the past two days I’ve lost so much that I’m starting to wonder what’s left. What’s really left of me.

* * *

I’m sluggish as I walk up the stairs, drained of emotion. I’m building myself up to throw my shoulder against Marie’s hard-to-open door when I stumble to a stop on the fifth-floor landing. Marie door is ajar, the room dim inside. I swallow hard and take a tentative step forward, looking around at the other apartments. All of the other doors are closed; the only sound is a low murmur from a television behind one of them. Silence radiates from Marie’s apartment.

Aaron said she was waiting for me. My heartbeat pounds in my ears. “Marie?” I call softly, moving closer to the door. I wish Aaron had come upstairs with me.

I call my advisor’s name again, but the room beyond the door stays silent. Well, I’m not about to get murdered here. I take out my phone, but the minute it’s out . . . I realize that Aaron is the person I’d call for this. A wave of sadness rushes over me. I consider calling Deacon or my father, making them stay on the line while I poke my head in and check on things. I don’t think I need to call the police or anything—it’s just an open door of the apartment of a person who’s expecting me.

I debate what to do, but ultimately, I send out a quick text to Deacon, just in case I disappear: AT MARIE’S. I slip the phone back into my pocket and approach the door. I push the heavy door open a little farther, peering in. The overhead light near the sink is on, casting the room in a soft glow. I take a step inside the room and slide my hand along the wall until I touch the switch and flip it on.