Suzanne Young - The Treatment

“Cas let me in when I got here—acting pretty fucking surprised to see me, I must say. He showed me to your room, and when I looked out the window, I saw you on the bridge.” James’s eyes weaken with vulnerability. “I told you once that I wasn’t a jealous guy except for when it came to Michael Realm. But that’s my problem to get over, not yours. I choose to trust you.”

Although I’m glad James came to a decision about his feelings, there’s so much he’s missed. “I’ve made it clear to Realm that he and I will never happen,” I tell him. “He’s been keeping secrets from me, terrible lies from all of us. I don’t think he’s well, James. All I want now is for us to run away from here.”

James can’t hide the relief, his mouth twitching with a smile. “We’ll leave in the morning.” He takes the bottom of my shirt to tug me closer. I wrap my arms around his neck, getting on my tiptoes so that our lips touch. “I give up, Sloane,” he whispers against me. “I’m all yours.”

There’s a pain, a beautiful deep pain in my heart, and I lean in to kiss him. His lips are warm and gentle, even as his beard scratches me. His touch isn’t urgent, though I’m sure we’re both burning for each other. His kiss is slow and thorough and claiming. We ease back onto the bed, taking our time—something we’ve never done, not that I can remember. His kisses trail over my body, my heart skips a beat with his every moan. James is back—really back. And together we’re about to start our new life.

By midafternoon James and I are still lying around my room as I fill him in on the events he’s missed. I tell him about Arthur Pritchard, Kellan. We talk about my returning memories and the nosebleed. I even tell him about Dallas and Realm. James listens to all the stories, clearly overwhelmed with information. But he’s handling it better than I thought he would. He really has matured.

“So how do you think Michael Realm is going to feel about our reunion?” he asks, motioning between us.

“I imagine he’ll be heartbroken.” There’s a small twist of regret, but I remind myself how Realm has treated Dallas. Nothing I do to him could ever be that cruel.

“Well, in that case,” James says, smiling to himself, “I can’t wait to see him.”

CAS IS THE ONLY ONE smiling at dinner. Well, besides James, who is chewing on store-bought beef jerky like it’s the best thing he’s ever eaten. He showered and shaved before coming downstairs, and unlike the last time, James is perfectly content with gloating. I may have misjudged his maturity level.

James keeps his hand on my leg, casually, but still there. We sit close, and every so often he brushes his lips over my ear to whisper how much he missed me. I’d tell him to stop pouring salt in the wound, but I don’t. Because tomorrow we’re running away, just like we should have in the first place. I plan to ask Dallas to come with us, but I doubt she’ll leave Cas. I’m going to give her the option anyway.

“So where’ve you been?” Cas asks, reaching to pull some jerky out of the bag on the table. Night has fallen outside, blacking out the windows and dotting the sky with stars. I plan to sit and stare up at them later, enjoy one last night in Tahoe before we leave for the unknown.

“I tried to head back to Oregon,” James says. “Got spooked when I saw the billboard with my handsome mug on it.” He winks at me to let me know he’s joking.

Dallas chuckles. “That must be distracting for drivers.”

“It was,” James retorts. “Tourists lining the road, taking pictures. Traffic jams. I knew I’d be a target. Ended up camping for a day or two before I found your trail. It was pretty lonely. I found my spirit animal though.” He grins. “It’s a rooster.”

“Shut up.” I laugh, pushing his shoulder. James continues to tell ridiculous stories, leaving out everything relating to his dad. He’s keeping it private, which I respect. Dallas seems brightened by James’s return, and I don’t feel threatened by her attention. Not like before.

Realm broods at the end of the table, and occasionally Dallas looks over at him, although she’s clearly still too pissed to engage him in conversation. I hate knowing about pieces of her life that she doesn’t. Can she feel deep down inside that she used to love Realm? Am I cruel for not telling her now?

As if reading my thoughts, Realm pushes his drink aside and stares at Dallas until she looks at him. “Can I talk to you?” he asks.

She scoffs. “No.” She turns back to James, but Realm is quick to reach out and take her hand, startling her.

“I need to talk to you,” he says again, more aggressively. At the other end of the table, Cas glares at Realm.

“Leave it alone, man,” Cas says seriously. “Leave her alone.” They exchange a look, one heavy in meaning, but Realm doesn’t back down.

“I can’t,” he says, his lips pulled tight into a snarl. “And this isn’t your call, Casanova. Not her, not The Treatment. Do you think I haven’t noticed you searching for the pill?”

Cas stands, knocking a cup off the table and sending it to the floor with a loud clatter. We all jump, surprised to see Cas react so strongly. It’s an Old West showdown, and James sits up straighter like he’s ready to break up a fight.

For her part, Dallas looks utterly confused. Cas’s reaction is over the top, especially since they’re just friends. And I don’t know what any of this has to do with The Treatment.

“Outside,” Cas growls to Realm. At first I think he’s calling for a fight, but Realm nods solemnly. Cas doesn’t say a word to Dallas before walking out, letting the screen door slam shut behind him.

Realm pauses, but Dallas won’t look at him. He rounds the table, touching my shoulder as he passes. James and Dallas don’t notice. I watch Realm leave, wondering what the hell is going on. Does he genuinely want to apologize to Dallas? Is he freaking out because James is back?

Dallas curses and gets up from the table. “He’s such a dick,” she says, rattled. She wouldn’t talk to Realm, but his attention was enough to break her otherwise good mood. Realm called her unstable, but obviously he’s partly to blame for that diagnosis. There’s real damage here that he has no right to tamper with. And to prove it, Dallas tosses her beef jerky on the table and storms upstairs.

James looks over at me, his eyebrows raised. “What was that about?” he asks. “Are Dallas and Cas—”

“They both say no,” I tell him. “Just friends. Either way, I’m ready to get out of here. They want The Treatment, not us.” At the mention, I realize we left the pill in the room. After that little exchange, I’m feeling paranoid. I want to check on it. “Let’s go upstairs,” I say.

James doesn’t make a joke because he can see I’m suspicious. Together we go back to the room and I immediately check the small inside pocket of the duffel bag. The pill is still there, tucked inside the Baggie with Kellan Thomas’s business card so I won’t lose them.

“What’s going on?” James asks, shutting the door before going to sit on the bed. “Have the rebels been trying to get ahold of The Treatment?”

I shake my head, trying to figure out what’s making me so uneasy. “Not really, or at least, not obviously. They want to keep it safe from The Program. I assumed Arthur Pritchard was the threat, but I may have misjudged him. Now it’s up to us.” I think again about the doctor, hoping I’ll be able to reconnect with him eventually. If he understood the risks of The Treatment, maybe he’d have another idea on how to combat The Program. Maybe there can be a happy ending in all this.