Read The Drafter for Free Online

what lay ahead. Six weeks . Jack could never bring that all back. But then, what does anyone really remember, anyway?
    There was a thump of a ball. “That’s two,” Jack said. “You’re not eating that if I win.”
    Feeling good, Peri ran a finger across the top of the cake. “Just keep dreaming,” she said, making sure he was watching as she licked off the whiskey-infused frosting. The shock of it burned in a pleasant surprise, and as Jack focused on his game, she breathed deep, feeling it add to her slight buzz.
    The balls cracked, and she cheered when the eight went in too early, making it her win. Clearly not caring, Jack set his cue on the table and came to stand behind her. “You win,” he said, his arms going around her and rocking her slowly. “You always win.”
    She sighed, feeling the love as the music shifted, becoming even slower as the evening lengthened. Together they looked out over the dance floor below them. She could dance to this, black eye or not. Hell, they were almost dancing now, Jack slowly swaying with her as she sat on the stool, him standing behind her where he always was.
    â€œPeri, have you ever given any thought to retiring?”
    She stopped his motion, looking up and behind at him in surprise. “Quit Opti?”
    â€œWhy not?” he said, rushing to talk before she said anything else. “I can’t think of a better way to live out my life than with you, doing nothing more than this. Maybe on a beach.”
    They had talked about this before, but never when she was feelingthis relaxed, this . . . vulnerable to his idea. She couldn’t quit. This was who she was. “Sand in your shorts would get a little tiring after a while, don’t you think?”
    He turned her in his arms and kissed her forehead. “Not if you were with me. I’d get you chocolate cake every day.”
    Quit? She couldn’t do it. “Jack,” she protested, biting back her argument when the pattern of lights shifted from rosy colors to a stark white, bathing Jack’s face, and she stared at his pasty complexion, her gut twisting. Don’t leave my sight drifted up from nowhere, an image of his anger superimposed on his content face. It was his voice in her mind.
    I left him , she thought, breath held as she looked at her open hand and the faint J IN OFFICE that hadn’t washed off completely.
    â€œJack,” she whispered, the taste of the chocolate and whiskey strong on her lips.
    Blinking fast, she leaned into him as a sensation of vertigo swept her. Her breath caught, and it felt as if she’d stepped out of time and was just watching.
    It’s a list, lovely woman echoed in her thoughts, and an image of a suited man eating chocolate, smug and confident, surfaced. She licked her lips, tasting it. The bitterness kindled more, and anger flashed through her, its source unknown. “Jack,” she whispered, unheard over the music, but the anger vanished, smothered by a feeling of desperation and loss. No, betrayal. Eyes wide, she looked up at Jack, squeezing his hand until he looked down at her.
    â€œWhat?” Jack’s content expression vanished in concern.
    She blinked, gaping at him through a flood of questions. She tried to speak, shocked to silence when he leaned close and the scent of chocolate and whiskey suffocated her. Panic unfolded. Her hand hurt, and she looked at it, cramped and tight as if holding a knife.
    â€œPeri!” Jack gripped her arms. “What is it?”
    Her head dropped. The light on his face made it worse. Unable to look at him, she was alone in her terror as she relived shoving the guard off her. He’d smelled of whiskey, and the taste of chocolate was with her still. He’d choked her, and she’d killed him to save her own life. Butshe shouldn’t be able to remember anything! Not until Jack brought it back and made it real.
    â€œPeri, look at me.”