The Drafter

“Absofreakinglutely!” came a muffled shout, and Frank strode in from the back room, thick hands working over a towel.

 

Peri shifted on the hearth to make room for everyone as Frank ambled over, but the large man took a nearby chair, turning it around and straddling it. Peri’s eye twitched, and she dismissed it. Frank wasn’t putting space between them because he was afraid she was going to flip out. He was a psychologist, for God’s sake. But it still felt wrong, especially when Allen handed Peri her latte and sat beside Frank instead of her.

 

Allen ripped open the bag. “Mmmm, cream filling,” Frank said as he took one, using a finger to catch the excess on his lips as he took a huge bite. “Thanks.”

 

“Anyone want coffee?” Sandy asked, sitting back in a mild huff when both Frank and Allen vigorously shook their heads. “There is nothing wrong with my coffee,” she grumbled, turning when the bar’s door opened and Bill came in.

 

“Not when you’re drunk, anyway,” Frank said, laughing as she leaned across the space and smacked his thick leg.

 

“This is nice,” Bill said as he smiled at them clustered around the empty fireplace.

 

“They’re making fun of my coffee,” Sandy complained. “My coffee is fine!”

 

“I agree. It tastes like it was ground this morning,” Bill said, and Allen smiled at the old joke, wiping his hand free from powdered sugar and shifting to sit beside Peri. For the first time, Peri felt things were getting back to normal, and she glanced at the man at the bar. Even Bill was ignoring him. He had to be an observer.

 

“So, how you doing, Allen?” Bill asked, and Allen glanced at Peri with a tentative smile.

 

“Better by the hour, Bill. Better by the hour,” he said, and Peri warmed.

 

The man at the bar turned, sitting to face them with his arms over his chest and a disapproving expression.

 

“You’d better get a doughnut before they’re gone, Peri,” Sandy said, and Peri took one even though she wasn’t hungry.

 

Finally Bill sat down, and Peri slowly exhaled. “Well, how is she?” Bill asked.

 

Sandy’s entire demeanor shifted toward the professional. She looked at Frank, and he gestured for her to be forthright. Peri’s heart thumped. “She’s lying about her nightmares,” Sandy said.

 

“I am not!”

 

Allen took her hand. “Peri, I’d never leave you.”

 

Sandy made a tiny puff of sound. “It’s not about you anchoring her, it’s about her needing more backstory for her life. Shut up, Allen. I’ll get to you in a minute. The nightmares aren’t unusual. It’s her wandering attention I’m concerned about.”

 

“My attention is fine,” Peri said, purposely not letting her gaze go to the man at the bar.

 

“And she hasn’t mentioned it,” Sandy said almost hesitantly, “but I think she still harbors a grudge against the alliance.”

 

Peri worked to keep her breathing even so as not to show her anger. “Silas Denier almost killed Allen,” Peri said, and Frank gave Bill a sideways look, his thick arms crossed over his chest. “And I’m supposed to pretend it didn’t happen? Allen will heal, but my three years are gone, so, yes, I’m pissed. You going to put me in the hole because I’m pissed?”

 

Bill’s eyebrows were raised, and Allen’s hand slipped from hers in a silent rebuke. She’d probably just hurt her case for returning to active duty, but she didn’t care.

 

“Just forget I said that,” Peri said as she lifted her paper cup of hot milk and caffeine. “I’m fine. I’m happy. See?” She took a long drink, trying to minimize her anger while in front of three psychologists, her boss, and Allen.

 

“You are not fine,” Sandy said, and the man at the bar nodded in agreement. “But moping around here isn’t doing you any good. You need to go do something.”

 

Breath catching, Peri looked up. Is she serious?

 

Allen beamed. “See, Bill? Sandy thinks it’s a good idea. We need to get out of here. My cast comes off today. Give us something. I can do my physical therapy in the car.”

 

Anticipation coursed through her as she looked at the faces around her, the first she’d felt in months. It felt good, so good.

 

“Hold up.” Bill raised a thick hand. “Nothing happens until I hear Frank and Sandy tell me she’s good to draft.”

 

Peri stifled a shiver when Sandy glanced at Frank, and when Frank nodded, Allen made a fist, pumping it once. “Yes-s-s-s!” he said softly.

 

“There’s been minimal change in Peri’s state these last few weeks,” Sandy said. “I think the only way to shake things loose is to let her go. My larger concern is Allen.”

 

Allen looked up, shocked, as he pushed his glasses back up his nose. “Me?”

 

“Yes, you.” Sandy pointed an accusing finger at him. “You need to let go of the shared past you and Peri have. Your reactions are confusing her, causing more trouble than her missing memories. If you don’t treat her as if she’s trustworthy, she never will be.”