CHAPTER SIX
MY HEART LEAPS INTO MY throat, and I quickly jump up, smoothing my hair and avoiding the spot that still hurts. Wes pushes the door open all the way, and I breathe out a sigh of relief when I see it’s Nathan. Standing behind him, Foster waves to me, mouthing hello.
Nathan flashes a disappointed look at Wes, who’s still shirtless, and walks past him into the basement.
Foster takes his time, chatting with Wes at the door to introduce himself, and then they both come into the living room. Foster heads in my direction and slyly holds his hand in a low five behind his back for me to slap. I do so with a laugh, and he takes a seat on the arm of the sofa.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Nathan says flatly. “But I thought I should follow up on the ‘attacked by handlers’ situation.” He looks from me to Wes. “Who would like to start?”
Wes grins, amused by Nathan’s attitude. He comes to stand next to me, still not wearing his damn shirt, and I falter a bit in my explanation.
“We should sit down,” I tell Nathan, motioning to the card table on the other side of the room. “It’s kind of a long story.”
Begrudgingly, Nathan makes his way to a seat, and Foster and I join him. Wes pulls on his T-shirt and flashes me a private smile before taking out his phone.
“I’m ordering a pizza,” he says. “Before the storm gets too bad. Everyone good with pineapple?”
“Absolutely not,” Nathan says immediately. Foster laughs and says he’s fine with whatever.
Wes gives us space, going into his bedroom to call in the pizza, and when he’s gone, Nathan stretches his arms out on the table in front of him and collapses on them dramatically. “Do I even want to know what’s going here?” he asks.
“I do,” Foster says encouragingly.
“I wish this was the height of my problems,” I say, drawing Nathan’s gaze. “I know Gram told you some of what happened today, but . . .” I shake my head as the fear crawls back in. My temporary distraction with Wes is gone, and my body begins to ache with the truth of my reality.
“The Program is coming for me,” I say in a quiet voice. “It almost got me.”
Nathan’s expression hardens, and he reaches to pull me into a hug. When he accidently touches my head, I wince. He gets to see the damage firsthand, and his body is tense as he listens to the details my gram left out.
I tell him about Melody saving me, her bravery. “She was different, Nathan,” I say, smiling softly even as his jaw tightens. “I got to see the real her. I think you’d like this version. She’s kind of badass.”
“I guess I’ll never know,” he says, avoiding my eyes.
“She wanted me to tell you that she loved you,” I add a little quieter. “She wanted you to know that part was real.”
Nathan flinches, swaying slightly like he’s pained by the words. Foster pushes back in his chair and comes to wrap his arms around Nathan from behind. He tells him he’s a good dude, and the three of us sit together, acknowledging that Nathan got pretty screwed over in this deal. It’s hard to see all the moving parts sometimes, smaller tragedies pushed aside for bigger ones. I hate that Nathan got hurt.
But Nathan doesn’t break down. He pats Foster’s arm to let him know he’s okay. He sniffs once, regaining his composure, and then he faces me with a new determination.
“How do we end them?” he asks. “How do we beat The Program?”
“I have an idea,” Wes says, coming back into the room. We all look up at him, and he’s so . . . cool about everything. Like none of this surprises him. It makes Foster grin, and I understand that feeling. It’s unusual to know someone without baggage. It’s refreshing, honestly.
Wes grabs a chair and turns it around to sit backward on it. He sets his phone on the table in front of him. “In my research,” he says, diving into the conversation, “I saw that Realm went to Corvallis quite a bit. There was a passing mention of someone named Anna Realm. What if I track her down?”
“Who is she?” I ask. “His mother?”
“I don’t know,” Wes replies. “I didn’t think much of it at first, especially since it was only a quick mention. But now I’m thinking this guy Realm knows how to stay off the radar. Is his whole family like that? Maybe, or maybe they’re like, fucking accountants—just living their lives while he runs around stirring up shit.”
Nathan laughs and covers his mouth. Wes picks up his phone to scroll through the Internet. “Just a thought I had.”
“It’s a good thought,” I say, earning a smile.
Wes goes to grab his laptop, and when he returns, I tell Nathan and Foster everything else I can think of about today, everything we learned. Even the part about being friends with Realm. I leave out the stuff about me and Wes since we’re at his house and that would be weird. At least, I thought it would be.
“I’m assuming we were all friends before?” Wes asks Nathan and Foster. They’re a little thrown by the question and exchange a look.
“It’s okay,” I say to them. “Dr. McKee was full of shit. I told Wes everything, and his head didn’t explode this time.”
Wes is impressed by my joke and clicks into a forum on the web page.
“Yep,” Nathan says. “I mean, not super-close friends.” He looks sideways at me because he and Wes had a strained relationship. Not jealousy in a romantic way, but in a “competing for my time” way.
“We used to play basketball,” Foster adds. “You were better than me.” Wes nods, liking this detail. Foster goes to stand behind Wes and watches him navigate the forums.
If The Program didn’t exist anymore, this would be the beginning of our normal. All of us together, ready to move on with our lives. Of course, that’s not what’s happening. Sadly, I’m not sure it’ll ever happen. Tomorrow, I could be rotting in a hospital somewhere, instruments stabbing my brain.
I shiver, and Wes glances up at me with a quick flinch of concern.
“Right there,” Foster says, pointing to a post on the screen. Wes lowers his eyes to read it, and then clicks the preview to dive in further.
“I think this is it,” he says, smiling at Foster. He pokes the keys of the computer before turning it so Nathan and I can see. “It’s a phone number from Corvallis,” he says, “registered to Anna Realm. No address.”
“But here’s the weird thing,” Foster adds. “The area code is for Springfield, pretty close to the Program facility there. It’s one of three lines she has. Why would she need three phone lines?”
“Other kids?” I suggest.
“Anna’s not his mom,” Wes says. He leans forward to tap a few keys and comes up with a picture of a pretty blonde with a passing resemblance to Realm. “Sister, I’m guessing. No mention of parents anywhere, so they’re either out of the picture or dead.”
We grow quiet at that suggestion, the sadness at the possibility of Realm’s parents both being deceased. I take out my phone.
“Well,” I say. “One way to find out.”
“Tatum,” Nathan warns. “Are you—”
“I don’t have time, Nathan,” I say turning to him. “I need Realm. Marie needs him, and that means so do I.”
Nathan chews on the inside of his lip and then nods for me to go ahead, looking anxious. Foster drops back into his chair, and I dial. I set the phone on speaker and place it in the center of the table.
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.
Wes’s phone buzzes, and he glances at it before smiling. “Pizza’s here,” he says, going to grab his wallet. He starts for his bedroom but then stops dramatically to look back at us.
“I meant to tell you,” Wes tells us. “I ended up getting pineapple.”
Nathan stares at him and then shakes his head. “This is why I fucking hated you.”
And after a long pause, we all laugh.