Saving the Seal: A BWWM Navy Seal Interracial Romance (16 page)

After everything they had shared. All the
progress
they had made. “If you won’t sign my release, I’ll find a shrink that will.”

That word…shrink. He hadn’t called her a shrink since they’d first become intimate. Not since she’d told him how ugly it made her feel – how it separated them.

It was the final nail in the coffin.

Without a word, Genevieve slipped from bed, her face an unfeeling mask. It was the only way she could keep herself from falling apart as she turned to face him. She felt hollow inside – utterly empty. As if he had sucked all the vibrancy and life from her. “If that’s what you want, Owen, so be it.”

With that, she turned on her heel, returning to the kitchen where he’d kissed her so tenderly to gather her clothes and put them on almost mechanically. Eddie padded over to her, his tail wagging, as she slipped into her shoes, and the first tears began to trickle down her face. She touched the dog’s head briefly before leaving the house, closing the door quietly behind her.

The young woman managed to make it to her car before the first sobs escaped her. Her shoulders heaved as she leaned forward, resting her head against the steering wheel, and let herself cry.

She’d failed him….failed him by giving him what she’d never given any man or patient of her own free will:

Her heart.

Chapter Eight: The Last Mission

Two months later

Owen stared up at the ceiling of his barracks.

Though he had left them almost a year ago, they were as familiar as if he’d never been away. It seemed like the past few weeks had passed in a blur. His psychological evaluation had been approved, he’d returned to the Air Force base and been welcomed back to the cheers of men who had served under him, and in that moment, he was slated to leave for the Middle East the following day.

Everything was fuzzy.

It had been, really, since the moment Genevieve had left his bed, her face so carefully blank that he would have preferred her slapping him. Her lovely face – with its enticing almond eyes, full lips, and reassuring smile, was the last clear image he remembered.

When he’d changed doctors, his treatment had also been altered.

Dr. Daniel Kant was nothing like Genevieve. He didn’t waste his time on long appointments and heartfelt conversations. He asked brusque, cutting questions that were directly to the point and made quick diagnoses. He had prescribed for Owen an antidepressant and a sleeping pill, both of which made him feel dull.

Half-present.

Of course, it was easy to make his way through PT. To show his commanding officers, including Admiral Trace, that he was physically ready to return to the field. Physical fitness had always been mechanical to him. The admiral had given him a personal commendation for returning to service in the name of his country. A year and a half ago, had he been personally picked by the admiral, Owen wouldn’t have been able to contain his pride.

Now, he couldn’t bring himself to feel much of anything.

He spent most of the little free time he had in his barracks, staring up at the ceiling, trying to draw on the righteous rage he’d once had towards the ISIS rebels who had decimated his unit. Somehow, he couldn’t grasp it. It was an effort for him to feel the way he had – to feel anything, really – except the impetus to live the next day. Whenever he tried to remember anything before the blur of activity that had brought him to his current position, he found a brick wall there.

All he could remember was Genevieve.

She had destroyed him.

She knew how important it was for him to face those who had emotionally crippled him...she had agreed that one day it might be instrumental to his recovery…but when he finally got the opportunity, she told him that it was too soon.

That he wasn’t ready.

Knowing what it would mean to punish those who had taken the lives of his men – his best friend…she had refused to sign off on the paperwork that would, in all likelihood, cure him completely.

But the damn paperwork had meant nothing in the face of the emotional betrayal she’d paid him. He’d believed, all this time, that she was out to support him. To help him….to cure him. He’d trusted her, and goddamn it all, he’d gone and done the one thing he knew he shouldn’t have.

He’d grown attached to her.

Fallen in love with her.

Even beneath the dull stability his meds gave him, he felt his heart twist in his chest. She didn’t think he was ready.

So much so that she’d come up with a lie to keep him from his revenge. Something about her supervisor, whom he’d heard she’d had numerous clashes with, and the admiral.

Admiral Trace
. A man so highly decorated and respected that the thought of him conspiring against a soldier was literally nauseating.

Christ, how could he have been so blind? The drugs, he knew, were better. They took everything away and brought in blessed numbness. He didn’t have to worry about nightmares, sleep paralysis, anxiety, or, indeed, anything else.

“Hey, Owen.” A low whistle from the bunk below him drew his attention over the edge of the top bunk to take in the figure of Sean below him. The man was grinning widely, holding the leash of none other than Eddie. “Look who I brought to visit?”

He had to leave the mutt at Sean’s house with his wife when he returned to duty, and it had been one of the hardest things he’d done in a long time. Now, Eddie was prancing on the floor beneath him, jumping up against the support poles of the bunk and barking enthusiastically at the sight of his long absent master.

Owen waited for his heart to lift.

He was exhausted. He’d had a long day of sniper re-orientation, daily PT, and had also been briefed on the mission on which he was to be sent. Usually, he would spend his evenings getting to know the men under his command. All he’d wanted to do today was lie in bed, and now, he didn’t even think he had the energy to get down from his bunk and greet Eddie.

He’d already taken his sleeping pill – meaning he was on the cusp of slumber. Groaning, he lowered his head onto the coverlet, shaking it back and forth slowly. “I can’t right now, Sean. I’m fucking tired. Bring him back tomorrow, will you?”

Rolling over onto his side, Owen closed his eyes, the dog’s low whimpering sounding in his ears.

He was too tired…and he needed a clear mind for his trip tomorrow.

He just wanted the deep, dark abyss of sleep to take him…at least then, when he dreamed, he would see the woman he was leaving behind.

**

She would never get used to it – never. After seven years of working long hours – of living and breathing the people she helped rehabilitate, Genevieve was unemployed.

The time that stretched out before her seemed endless. She tried to fill it with mindless television shows…with reading books that she’d once loved and daily conversations with her mother, but nothing seemed to fill the emptiness in her.

Sure, she could find another job as a psychiatrist – perhaps even in another vet hospital. She was highly qualified, and Doctor Bradley was still on her side. But somehow, Genevieve couldn’t bring herself to work.

Working reminded her of Owen.

Where would he be now, she wondered? Just before she’d been let go from the psychiatric office at Riperton, she’d heard that he had returned to duty…and her heart had shattered.

Genevieve considered herself well in command of her emotions. As a psychiatrist, it was an important attribute for one to have. The patient brought their woes to her, not the other way around. However, for the past eight weeks, hardly a day passed that didn’t end with her crying herself to sleep.

Owen had been betrayed by those he had the most faith in – he had chosen revenge over sound advice, and over the love she so clearly had for him. She hadn’t thought anything could ever hurt so much.

Despite reassurance from both her mother and Stella that this was only a slight stumble in her life, it was hard for her to let it go….just as hard, possibly, as it had been for Owen to let go of his notions of revenge. In that way, they understood each other – even if they never met again.

She forced herself to get up every morning – went through the motions of her day. Genevieve choked down her meals and tried to distract herself with any and everything…but all it took was the memory of Owen’s signature scowl…of the way he fed treats to a begging Eddie – and she let her sorrow consume her.

After a while, her tears dried up. As she had always done with emotions she didn’t want others to see, she locked them inside, and forced herself to keep breathing.

In the weeks since she’d been drummed out of Riperton, the young woman received relatively few visitors. That, of course, explained her surprise when, on the midst of her first tentative day of job searching, a knock came on her door.

She rose from her desk, swallowing the relief that she felt. She still didn’t know if she was ready to work again – not when it was still a struggle for her to get through each day that passed. Smoothing her unkempt hair, Genevieve made her way to the door, wondering who her caller could be.

When she opened the door, her lips parted slightly in shock.

Captain Sean Morales stood on her doorstep, holding the leash of a very energetic Eddie. He was trying to control the large animal, but in the absence of his master, Eddie listened to no one. Within moments, he broke free of Sean’s hold and leapt on Genevieve, licking her face enthusiastically as she caught his paws in her hands.

“Eddie!” She exclaimed. “Eddie, calm down!” She managed, somehow, the get the dog down, before he raced into her house – she assumed, to make a huge mess. Straightening, she eyed Sean warily. She could think of no good reason why he would be at her house. He had been one of the men to escort her from her office when Doctor Kant had fired her – though he’d looked none too enthusiastic about the task. “Captain.” She greeted him with no small amount of inquiry in her voice. “Can I help you?”

Sean’s frown was deep as he glared after Eddie a moment before he met her gaze. The worry she saw there was like a punch in the gut, and immediately, her mind went to Owen…not as if it had ever left him. “It’s him, isn’t it? What’s happened?”

All at once, she was transported back to the day that Kant had told her about Spencer McAvoy’s suicide. The slightest inkling that Owen might do the same was enough to steal her breath and make her quake in fear. She’d never known him to be suicidal, but she knew that drugs did strange things to people…and Kant almost certainly would have given him a prescription.

“Nothing…that’s exactly the problem.” Sean exhaled hotly, shaking his head. “Ever since he started taking those meds…he’s been absolutely numb. He has no desire…no drive. The light has gone from his eyes. He’s functional…but I’ve never seen him like this, Genevieve. I’ve come to you because of this.”

He held out a sheaf of papers, most of which were marked confidential. “I went to Captain Ryce with your suspicions about Kant.” She had mentioned them to Sean in the weeks after Owen had left, in a last ditch attempt to save his sanity, and perhaps his life – but the captain had seemed skeptical at best. Knowing how things were between her and Owen, he’d probably thought she was concocting reasons to keep him from going on a dangerous mission.

But it appeared he’d listened more than she’d thought. “I pulled a number of referrals to Kant from the admiral over the past year. There’s a large amount of money being funneled into Riperton to reach a specific level of pharmaceutical sales each year…it looks like some kind of agreement. Kant gets a cut every time he prescribes the drugs, and so does the admiral. There’s a bit of a paper trail to follow to gather all the information, but it’s there plain as day for anyone who cares to look.” The captain scowled. “Which means that both Kant and one of the state’s highest ranking officers have a lot to answer for.”

A year ago, the statement would have elated Genny. She would have wanted nothing more than to see Kant crumble beneath the weight of his own corruption. Now, however, all she cared about was Owen. This was proof that he was being sent to Fallujah for all the wrong reasons, and maybe if he saw it, it would keep him from leaving.

Snatching the papers from Sean, she leafed through them, her eyes growing wider and wider with each additional page she read. When her gaze rose to meet Sean’s again, it shone with determination.

“Where is he now?”

Within half an hour, they were on their way to the Air Force base, where Owen would be leaving from in a scant four hours. Armed with the paperwork that Sean had unearthed, they raced to get Genevieve through the front gate. The SEAL teams bound for Fallujah were on the tarmac by the time they finally arrived on base, and Genevieve leapt from the car to race toward the familiar tall black figure lined up with his fellows.

Immediately, several soldiers made to go after her, only to be stopped by Captain Ryce, who happened to be present, and was watching the entire episode with intensity. Despite everyone watching – despite the men lined up preparing to deploy, Genevieve threw herself into Owen’s arms.

The man caught her reflexively, but his embrace held no affection. When Genny raised her eyes to meet his, the blankness reflected there truly frightened her. “Owen? Owen, please, listen to me?”