“So glad to see you. Sit, sit.” She motions to a comfy lounge chair then relaxes with her legs folded on the couch. “You don’t have to look at me like that. Pretend we’re hanging out, having a beer. You can grab one out of the fridge, if you like.”
I ease down into the leather chair, uncomfortable as hell. “Nah thanks. I need to slow down.”
Her brows raise. “And why is that?”
“Let’s make a deal, you don’t ask me questions you already have answers to.” Suds must’ve told her I’ve been drinking too much lately.
She smiles. “Okay, I know you’ve been drinking, we all do, but not why.”
“I would think it pretty obvious, yeah? My pregnant wife almost got blown up. I was supposed to be guarding her.”
“I thought Suds was on duty?”
“Sure, but I had on a comm, too. I was watching. We both were.”
“And Grayson and Slate? Did they investigate the restaurant where the party was being held?”
“Sure, they did.”
“And vetted it for possible risks?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“So, the fact these terrorists were able to penetrate Patten’s famous security is all your fault?” She tilts her head, making some kind of point.
It pisses me off she’s right. “They all sent their wives someplace safe, like I did. So, why am I being singled out? Get the other blokes in here.”
“Why do you think everyone staged an intervention?”
I stand. “I don’t fucking know!” All this pent-up anger erupts and I shout, “Why don’t you tell me?”
“Did you hear anything anyone read?”
“Actually, not so much. I was too busy being embarrassed to shit.”
She hands me my wife’s paper. “Read it again.”
I do. “It says she doesn’t want me to reenlist.”
“No Lochlan, she’s fine with you reenlisting. She doesn’t want you to die and if you don’t deal with some of your nightmares, you’re going to get yourself killed. Not only that, those in your charge will die as well.”
A flicker of my fog at the edge of my peripheral vision comes to life and dead bodies lie on the road, in front of my chair. Children in the school bus cry. I squeeze my eyes shut and they disappear.
“Tell me what you saw.”
My heart races. “I tried therapy, right after I got done with my last tour. It didn’t fix anything.”
“It’s not supposed to.” She smiles. “It’s not even supposed to make things easier.”
“Then why are you here?”
“To help you cope.”
“I’m doing fine.”
“Are you, Lucky?”
I shift uncomfortably in my chair, feeling more like a rebellious teen than a fucking grown-ass adult. “Since my wife almost… the explosion, I’ve had a few more nightmares than usual. Who wouldn’t?I’m not crazy.”
