SEAL'd Perfection The Complete Collection: A Navy SEAL Romance (31 page)

There wasn’t any other way.

* * * *

Under the cover of night, we stormed the compound. Thanks to the team that had gone before us, the perimeter of the bunker had been breached, the enemy retreating further into the bunker underneath an old factory that looked as though it hadn’t been operational in years. Thanks in part to the raid the night before, the factory appeared abandoned. We carefully stalked the halls, on silent feet, as we swept room to room, looking for any sign of either the enemy or the hostages. In a large room that appeared to have been used as an office, we discovered evidence of torture, but the blood we found was old, and although there were books and documents, nothing was of importance. Everything had been cleared out.

My team and I met up with the other half back at the entrance, after the search, and they’d found the same. Evidence that they had indeed been holding the hostages here, but now empty.

As I was about to send in the intel to the command post over the radio, a sound echoed down the hall, a loud clanging.

We raced down the hall towards the sound, weapons raised, and as we approached the sound, two visions spliced together in my mind: the one in front of me, the hell that had turned into my reality, and the images and scenes from the nightmares I’d been having for months, ones that led me to finding Kat down some abandoned hallway, terrified and screaming my name. I took a deep breath, willing away the second vision. Kat wasn’t there—she was safe, probably home with Jax snuggled up next to her on the couch. I locked in on that image. I had to keep going. Once the mission was over, I could get home and we could all be a family together.

My thoughts steady once again, I pushed my team forward. Kyle led one team left, and I took the rest to the right, silently sweeping down the dingy hallways, lit only with low grade bulbs that gave off an ominous yellow light.

The noise rang out again, much closer this time. My breathing slowed, and my heart raced even faster, as we rounded the corner. A man stood there, loading a backpack with canned goods that had been lined up in one room I’d searched with my team minutes before.
How did we miss him
? The room erupted with yelling, and threats, as we approached. The man dropped his bag, raised his hands in surrender, frantically pleading in a language I recognized from my previous time in this country, but couldn’t understand. One of my men stepped forward and searched him, the rest of us keeping him in our sights.

“He’s just a scavenger,” the soldier who’d searched him said, backing away. “No weapons, not even a knife.”

We let the man go, and he gathered his backpack of food and ran out of the room, crying his thanks to us as he went.

“They’re not here,” Kyle said, turning to me once the man was gone.

I nodded as he voiced the sinking thought I’d been having for the past half an hour. “Let’s get back to the entrance and call it in. They might have more info.”

We did a final sweep, and went back to the main entrance of the factory. I broke away from the group, calling in what we’d found, to get the next set of instructions, ignoring the sting of regret that we hadn’t been able to find the hostages and rescue them. While we waited, we wandered back outside, sticking close to the building, and surveying the fence that had been the scene of the fight the night before. The one which had lost us two of our own. As I waited for a response from command, I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened. How had it happened? We hadn’t had a chance to get too many details, beyond what had been said in our final briefing.

A static riddled reply came over, and I turned away, raising the small transmitter to my lips. My mouth opened, ready to ask for the person on the other side to repeat what they’d said, when a shot rang out. My ears rang as I whipped to face the sound, and watched the scene unfold in slow motion as the man next to Kyle dropped, a spray of blood flying through the air where he had been standing moments before.

“Get back inside! Get cover!” I screamed, even though everyone had already ducked back into the entryway. The metal doors slammed shut, and we all backed against the walls, as another shot came through and shattered the glass windows on each side of the doors. My heartbeat roared in my ears, the scene replaying a dozen times in the span of a few seconds.

I’d just lost a man. It had been my call to leave the building. I turned away. I missed it. I hadn’t been looking to see a shooter.

What the fuck am I thinking?
I led them out to be sitting ducks. I was supposed to lead, not think—and now one of my men was down.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I crept forward, sneaking towards the entrance where we’d been standing. Kyle’s voice cut through my self-loathing, panic stricken thoughts, “Winslow, get the fuck back!”

I ignored him. If there was a chance that our man was alive, I had to get to him. I poked around the wall, and a shot rang out, zinging so close to my face I could smell the metal. My eyes dropped from the hole in the stone where the bullet had embedded, to the ground, to the lifeless body of Cameron Quincy, a twenty-three-year-old kid who was set to go to officer school once the mission was over, having just finished college. His whole fucking life was supposed to be ahead of him. I sagged back, out of sight, as another bullet whizzed by.

Kyle was staring at me, expectantly, a glimmer of hope in his dark eyes. I shook my head and he dropped his gaze to the floor, taking a beat to process. “We have to get out. There’s gotta be another way,” I said, instructing the group of men who were under my command.

I ducked back out, surveying the scene. There was a tall concrete fence around the perimeter of the building, with two makeshift towers placed on either side of the gated entrance, what I assumed to have once been the loading dock for trucks when it had been a working factory, but was now obviously being used for other purposes. I quickly traced the pattern of the bullets back to the tower. I couldn’t see any movement, but I knew that’s where the enemy was, hulking behind the tower walls, waiting.

I stepped away from the doors and pressed my back against the wall, facing my team lined up along the opposite wall. “The sniper’s in the left tower,” I announced. “Which means there are more of them nearby. Probably whatever is left of the motherfuckers that killed our guys last night.” My voice was thick with rage, swirling with hate and violence. “We can’t wait here. We have to take the fucking fight to
them
.”

Minutes that felt more like seconds flew by as we formed a plan. My team would provide cover. I was going after the shooter.

It was my fault Cameron was dead—so it was my responsibility to get vengeance.

When my team started shooting, I mentally mapped my route, drew my weapon, and ran like a mother fucker.

In the end, just as I got the shooter in my sights, about to pull the trigger, another bullet took him down. I proceeded forward, slowing my pace, cautiously watching to see if he was really down—and, God forbid, there were others waiting to take up his post. After a minute of silence, I glance behind to see my team give me the sign that the threat had been eliminated. I took one more step, and then everything stopped. A click followed by a boom so loud my eardrums ruptured.

A flash of heat blazed through me, reverberating through my entire body, and before I could snap around to see what had hit me, I stumbled, my legs and feet shutting down, even as I looked down, and as my body hit the dust, Kat’s face filled my vision in the moment before the world went black.

“It’s been over six months, Hilda. No calls, emails, hell, not even a real letter!” My voice was borderline frantic, and I stopped, taking a deep breath, before adding, “He’s not coming back.”

It was the first time I’d dared to speak the hideous words aloud. Everything in me screamed at the sentence as it passed my lips, begging and pleading for it to not be true, for someone to tell me that I was wrong. I wanted someone to give me a loophole, an angle I hadn’t considered. Anything that would give me back the glimmer of hope I’d carried around for the last several months.

Hilda stared at me from her normal spot across her dining room table, her brown eyes soft with compassion. Without a word, her eyes trailed to where Jax was playing with a little girl, Lola, who Hilda also watched during the week. I followed her gaze, and a small smile tugged at my lips as I watched him teach the little blonde some kind of game with rules that only little ones could understand. It was hard to believe he would be four years old in a little over a month. Months ago, before I lost all contact with Jace, I’d imagined him standing beside me as little Jax blew out his birthday candles, the way he would cheer and holler. There were a thousand other little thoughts just like it. Jace cutting down a Christmas tree for us or putting lights up outside. Or even simple things, like going to the park, taking a long walk through the neighborhood. Trips to the zoo, the museum, taking a vacation together.

It was all a hopeless fantasy now.

He wasn’t coming back.

My eyes burned as my words echoed back in my head, over and over again.

“Has anyone been to his shop? Surely a lawyer or business partner or someone would stop by to…” Hilda paused for a moment, considering her words, “…take care of his affairs.”

I shook my head. “Not that I know of. I stop over there sometimes, after work, and check the windows. Everything looks just like it did the day he left.”

Hilda offered a slight smile at my answer and patted the back of my hand. “He’s out there, dear.”

I sucked in a breath. It was what I’d wanted to hear, but somehow, hearing it out loud only made me feel more desperate and antsy. “Where? Hilda, where? I’ve looked everywhere. I’ve called everyone. Just last week, I actually managed to get past all the gatekeepers at the studio that produces his show, and no one could tell me anything!”

“Well, dear, they probably can’t say anything. For all they know you’re some kind of stalker. Surely they’re prohibited from giving out any of his personal information.”

“But how would I know he’d gone on a mission with the Navy? How could a fan know something like that? Half the people in this town
still
don’t know the truth about where he went! They have to know that logically I’m not some kind of deranged fan on a hunt…right?” I shook my head.

Hilda, sensing there was nothing she could offer that would help, simply patted my hand once more and stood from the table. “Would you and Jax like to stay for dinner?” She asked, opening her fridge and beginning to rummage through ingredients.

“I can’t. I have to take Jax to visit Hannah and Mitch. They’re still at the hospital. The new baby, Emmaline, has some kind of infection. I didn’t get all the details, Mitch just asked if I could bring Jax,” I replied, my mind going back to the late night call with Mitch.

Hilda shut the fridge and gaped at me. “Is she going to be all right?”

“I think so. Mitch sounded worried, but not totally freaked. If that makes any sense at all.” I shook my head, thinking of how crazy it was to know someone who really had very little to do with your life again. Things had mellowed the past few months since the hearing, and now that Mitch had his new baby to look after, I figured it would cut back the drama between us even further.

“Well, Jax has been talking non-stop about his new little sister, and how he’s going to be the best big brother,” Hilda said, joining me to look out in the living room where he was still playing with Lola.

I smiled through a new batch of tears, wondering if I would ever get the chance to make him a big brother with another baby of my own. At one point, it hadn’t sounded too crazy, but now…

Hilda squeezed my shoulder and I melted into the warmth of her touch for a minute, relaxing out of the dark thoughts. After a moment, I stood and called for Jax. Hilda swooped into action and helped me gather his toys. He said goodbye to Lola and Hilda, and we filed out of Hilda’s to go to our driveway, feet away, and start heading out to the hospital.

* * * *

A couple of days later, I got a call from Mitch that Hannah and their new daughter were being released from the hospital. The infection had cleared and everyone was right as rain. It had ached in places inside me that I hadn’t even been aware existed, when I’d seen their new little baby in her bassinet. When Hannah was pregnant, seeing her baby bump, the growing evidence of a baby had been more than I could bear at points, even as our relationship had improved. Seeing the new, pink, perfect angel nearly did me in, but I’d smiled, and pretended that it wasn’t ripping me into pieces to see them so happy. On the phone, as Mitch told me the news, I forced another smile, told him congratulations again, and we made arrangements for me to keep Jax over the weekend to give them some time to settle in. After we got off the phone, I marveled at how civil and easy the call had been. Pleasant even.

I didn’t know where Jace was—if he was still alive—but I did know one thing, and that was that I would be forever grateful to him, because without his help, there would be no way that things would have worked out so well for Jax and me. In some ways, he’d been like a guardian angel, sweeping into my life at the perfect moment to help.

I smiled sadly to myself, thinking that if that was the case—heaven had truly broken the mold with him. Half devil, half angel.

Before I could linger on thoughts of Jace, I forced myself to finish getting ready for work, and hurried next door to drop Jax off.

Work was the same as always, it didn’t seem to matter what was going on in the world outside the diner, life inside was evergreen. But, just like everything else in the small town, it was haunted with the memory of Jace. My eyes stuck every time they passed over his booth, or out the window to where his tattoo shop stood vacant, and I couldn’t breathe anytime I went into the storage room.

He was gone, but he was still very much with me. And in some ways, I’d decided I preferred it that way.

After my shift, I was walking around the diner to the small lot out back where my car was parked, but remembered back to my conversation with Hilda, and at the last minute, crossed the street instead. I peeked into the windows of the tattoo shop, studying every inch with a narrowed eye, wondering what I was missing. Surely there had to be some kind of clue. If only I could get inside, then I could get access to his personal contacts and track down someone who would have the answers. The whole thing was too weird—there were too many unsolved pieces.