SEAL'd Perfection The Complete Collection: A Navy SEAL Romance

by Winters, KB

  I leaned over the sink, my hands braced on either side. My eyes squeezed shut tight against an avalanche of rage and regret that buried me before I could take another breath. I waited, hunched over, for it to roll off me, for my muscles to relax, and when I could finally get air back in my lungs, I went back to my beer and chugged the rest of it down. Barely a minute passed before I had another one cracked open. It was stupid—I knew—but I didn’t care.

  I took the bottle to the other room and stood before the large flat screen mounted on the wall. It was dark, and as I stood there, I remembered my friend’s text about the interview. I reached for the remote and flipped through the TV guide on the screen until I saw it, Inked by Jace: The Series Finale.

  I clicked OK and a flash of a second later, my face filled the screen.

  The TV me was in the middle of an answer, “—things went sideways, man. But, that’s life. When I joined the Navy, I always knew something like this was a possibility. I’ve had friends who’ve experienced similar things, and you know, I’ve had a lot of friends that never made it home.”

  The camera panned to the interviewer, some dude named Charles, who I was introduced to the day of the interview. Apparently he was the star of some morning news show. Whatever it was, I’d never seen it, but John had assured me he was a ‘someone’ and I should be honored he was there to do the interview on such short notice.

  I shook my head, remembering the solemn look in his eyes when he’d said it. Yeah, like I give a shit.

  Charles poised his next question, “Well, I speak for all of the American public when I say this, thank you for your service Chief Petty Officer First Class Winslow. It’s not taken lightly.”

  He hopped to a commercial break, and I went back to the kitchen. The interview had taken place weeks ago, a few days before I’d flown home. The show had sent John and his crew, with Charles, out to the VA hospital I’d been staying at. It had been a whole big thing, all those eyes on me. Truthfully, I’d felt like a total douchebag, walking those halls with a camera crew. Like I was some fuckin’ movie star or some shit.

  I was nothing.

  Absofuckinlutely nothing.

  To distract myself, and chase away the memories, I cracked half a dozen eggs into a bowl and started to scramble them with a fork. I was getting better at using my left hand for everything, but the motions still felt clumsy and awkward to me. Something as simple as scrambling eggs was now a chore. I couldn’t help but wonder when it would feel normal, and not serve as one more reminder that things were broken now.

  I was broken now.

  By the time I got the pan heated up, and some butter melted, I heard the interview kick back on in the other room. Charles was talking to Senior Chief Gerard about the mission and the specifics of what had happened. I tried to tune it out, not wanting to relive it all. Most nights the memories were rattling around in the back of my mind, haunting my nightmares, or late night thoughts when sleep refused to come for me.

  When my eggs were done, I put them on a plate and went out to my reclining chair. I set the plate next to the beer bottle I’d left on my side table, and went through the process of easing myself into my chair. The pain pills were working, and it didn’t feel like my spine was on fire, but I didn’t want to test them, and still moved slow and careful to not tweak my back.

  Senior Chief Gerard was on the screen, in his decorated uniform. “We are forever grateful of Winslow’s leadership and courage that day, and we ask that everyone honors the memory of those who didn’t make it back from that mission.”

  I pressed my eyes closed, the two faces of my fallen brothers in my mind. We’d lost Quincy before I’d gone after the sniper, and then Westin had gone down trying to pull me out of the fire after the explosive had gone off.

  One had died because of me. The other had died for me.

  Tears filled my eyes. Burning, stinging tears, that I’d bottled up for so long. I hadn’t let myself cry. I refused to feel sorry for myself. To show weakness.

  But sitting there alone, the faces of my dead friends in front of me, I couldn’t keep it together for one more minute.

  And the tears fell, hot, fast, bitter and ugly.

  Chapter Six — Kat

  My mind was still with Jace, long after the hour in the car taking Jax to Mitch and Hannah’s and getting back home. I was parked in the driveway, my engine still running, and I couldn’t bring myself to get out of the car and go upstairs.

  I was staring up at the front porch of my own townhouse, when a flash of movement caught my attention. Hilda had run out of her house next door, and bolted down the stairs of her front porch. I threw my car door open and got out, my heart racing at the panicked look on her face.

  Hilda skidded to a stop in the small yard between our attached homes. “Kat! Come inside, hurry!”

  Before waiting for a reply, she raced right back up her stairs. I chased after her, my mind wild with what had her so worked up. When we got inside, the TV was blaring, which was unlike Hilda. Before I could ask what the emergency was, she beckoned for me. “It’s Jace, look, it’s a whole special on him.”

  I couldn’t say anything.

  “They were showing footage of the explosion from a drone that was overhead, surveying their mission. Jace was speaking earlier but now it’s his--” She silenced herself mid-sentence as the show came back from a commercial break.

  An older man was on the screen, dressed in his uniform. A tag appeared, showing his name as Senior Chief Petty Officer Kenneth Gerard. “Petty Officer First Class Winslow has always been one of my strongest men, and the bravery he displayed that day, doesn’t surprise me in the least. He deserves every honor our country has to give in recognition of his heroism.”

  The screen faded back to a scene of a desert, and a large, sprawling industrial building. Seconds later, there was an explosion. The footage was from too far away to see any of the people below, but knowing that it was Jace—that he’d been in the way of that destruction, twisted my stomach into knots so tight it was hard to breathe.

  “Hilda, I have to go!” I burst out, wiping away tears that I hadn’t even noticed I’d shed, and ran back towards the front door of the house. She didn’t say anything as I left, but gave me a sad smile.

  My fingers flexed and gripped the steering wheel as I drove across town, remembering the way Jace had been hunched over, struggling back and forth with each box he’d carried. He’d hate me for going over and trying to help. But, I’d hate myself more if I didn’t at least try.

  I shifted the car into reverse and sped off back to the diner before I could change my mind. I parked in my normal spot beside the diner, and walked across the street on foot. The light was still on in Jace’s shop, illuminating the piled boxes, but I didn’t see any sign of Jace. My heart raced a little faster with each step, a new batch of worries filling my mind faster than I could rationalize them away. What if he’s been hurt? Was he on the floor? Pinned under something? Was he gone?

  I pushed inside the shop and began a frantic search for him. The front was empty, so I went down the small hall, and checked the small, single stall bathroom, and then the storage room. Nothing. I stopped at the foot of the narrow staircase, and sucked in a deep breath. It was like walking into a dark cave, that most likely had a bear sleeping somewhere inside. I took the first steps slowly, my courage building with each new step. I paused on the landing, staring at the heavy metal door slid over the opening. I raised my hand and rapped against the metal.

  No answer came. I pressed my ear to the door and waited, holding my breath, waiting for a sign that he was inside. A loud crash startled me, and I jumped back, away from the door. I rallied, clenching my jaw, and knocked again. “Jace! Open up! It’s Kat and I need to talk to you,” I yelled through the door.

  “Go away, Kat!” An angry voice roared back. It was so loud and furious that for a split second I wondered if someone was in there with Jace.

  I pounded harder on the door, ignoring the prote
st of my knuckles. “I’m not going anywhere, Jace! Open this door right now!”

  Another crash, followed by a bang, was my answer.

  What the hell was going on in there? It sounded like a demo crew was ripping apart the entire apartment. I pushed on the door, surprised to find it unlocked. I shoved hard and pushed it open, sliding the metal door aside. I took two steps into Jace’s apartment and my heart wrenched in my chest. Jace’s apartment looked like a demo crew had gone through it.

  That—or a hurricane.

  His couch was turned over on its back, the cushions ripped off and thrown all over the room. A lamp, with a busted light bulb lay on its side next to it. The TV was fried, something had taken out a chunk of the center and a spider web of cracks splayed out from the impact. A baseball bat was discarded by the door, and as I stepped over it, assumed it was the weapon of choice against the flat screen. Dishes were breaking, and I hurried into the kitchen to find Jace throwing plain white plates one after the other against the wall, the shards falling down into a cardboard box labeled kitchen shit with a black marker.

  “Jace,” I whispered, resisting the urge to cover my mouth at the absolute wreckage around me. Chairs were busted, glass and broken dishes covered the floor.

  At the sound of my voice, Jace froze, his back still to me. He held a plate in his hands, but let it drop to his feet. The plate hit the ground and broke into two pieces, and still he didn’t move a muscle.

  “Jace, what’s going on?” I stepped across the kitchen, avoiding the piles as best as I could. I stopped short of him, not sure what he would do if I reached for him. A twinge of fear shot through me as I approached. I’d never thought him capable of hurting me, but seeing the destruction that had obviously been the work of his hands, had me trembling and keeping space between us. “Jace?”

  His jaw clenched. “Get out, Kat. You shouldn’t be here.”

  “Jace, look at me, please,” I begged. “Talk to me. Let me in.”

  “Why?”

  His clipped question threw me off track and I reeled, searching the corners of my mind for an answer. There were a dozen things I wanted to say to him, but I didn’t know what he would respond to.

  If it was even possible for my words to reach him the way I needed them to.

  He looked too far gone.

  “Because I’m here to help, so let me.”

  Jace turned slowly, his posture tight, like a coiled snake. His eyes met mine and they were ringed with red, making his blue eyes stand out even more as he stared me down. “You can’t help me.”

  Something about his words, and the way he stood, riled something within me, and even before I could speak, I knew all the dark stuff I’d buried in my heart over the past months was bubbling up and over. “I can help you,” I replied defiantly. “But you have to want it, Jace. You have to let me help you.”

  His face was set, masking any reaction. “Fine, then, I don’t want it. Is that better? Are you happy now?”

  “Happy?” A strangled laugh ripped from my throat. “Are you kidding me? I’m so far from happy that I don’t even remember what happy looks like right now.” I took a few steps back, my shoes crunching the glass underneath them. I braced my hands on the counter and stared at the cupboard, feeling the heat of Jace’s eyes on me. “I haven’t been happy since you came back to town. You know that?”

  “Then I guess it’s a good thing I’m leaving town,” Jace fired back.

  I whipped around to face him again, throwing my hands in the air. “What the hell is the matter with you?”

  He grit his teeth in response.

  “Seriously? I wanna know. What happened that turned you into a raging asshole?” His eyes went a little wider and a twisted smile flashed across my face, some dark part of me happy to have hurt him, to have gotten past the twenty foot wall around him. “That’s right, Jace. I’m done babying you and trying to be sweet, and nice, and helpful. You wanna know what I really think?” I was daring him, a dangerous edge to my voice.

  Jace shrugged. “Can’t be any worse than what I already think of myself.”

  “Argh!” I screamed, the frustration inside me bursting out of every pore. I picked up a plate, one of the few left in the cupboard, and hurled it at the wall, hitting the dent Jace had already made. The plate shattered violently and the pieces dropped to the pile in the box underneath. A surge of relief flooded me and a smile tugged at the edges of my lips, daring me to smile. “You’re a prick, Jace! First of all, you don’t even tell me when you come back into town!” I threw another plate. “Then, you ignore me!” Another shatter. “Oh, except for the what? Three times we’ve talked? If you can even call that talking. Really, it’s just been you snapping at me and treating me like a piece of shit when all I’ve tried to do is help you and be supportive!” I threw another plate, but my strength gave out halfway, and it hardly broke as it hit the wall and fell to join the other shards.

  I sucked in a breath, ignoring my trembling fingers. “I waited for you, Jace. For nine fucking months. I waited, most of the time not knowing if you were even alive. I called your base, I tried to find someone, anyone, who could tell me where you were, what happened, but—” I choked back a sob. “I thought you were gone Jace…and then, you show up here, without a word, like you didn’t give a damn. Like it wasn’t eating you alive every minute away from me, like it—like I—was nothing.”

  Jace’s eyes were unblinking, frozen as he watched me with his clouded expression that I couldn’t read.

  “Say something! Damn it, Jace! Say something to me. Tell me why!” I launched myself at him, fists raised, my voice a sharp scream, nearly unrecognizable. By the time my fists collided with his chest, all the power and rage had gone out, like a snuffed candle, and I melted against him. “Please, Jace, tell me why.”

  His body tensed against me. He didn’t move to hold me, instead, he unfolded himself and stepped away, leaving me there in the kitchen, tears streaming down my face, alone, amongst the pile of other things he’d broken.

  I fought the urge to give up, to sit down and cry until my entire body felt like a wrung out sponge. Instead, I followed Jace, wiping away my own tears with each step, putting my game face back on. He was in his bedroom when I found him, sitting on the edge of his bed, staring out the window into the black night. When I stopped in his doorway, his eyes flicked to mine. “Why are you still here, Kat?” His voice wasn’t angry, more confused. Defeated.

  “Because I love you.” My answer was blunt, surprising even myself. It was the truth. No matter what happened, it would always be true. Jace had changed me, from the inside out, and I knew I wouldn’t ever fully be able to get him out of my head. Or my heart.

  Jace’s expression shifted in slow motion, the harsh stare melted away, an edge of sadness fading in at the edge of his eyes, and his jaw went slack, the pulse of his temper vanished. The hard lines of his mouth disappeared, and the corners turned down. “Kat, don’t.”

  “I love you, Jace. I’ve wanted to tell you for…I don’t know how long. And there is nothing you can say that will change that. You can push me aside, and be cold, and even mean, but I know who you really are. And it doesn’t matter to me that you can’t be a SEAL or a famous tattoo artist. That was never what it was about. In fact, I think I fell in love you despite those things, not because of them. You were a SEAL because you’re brave, strong, self-sacrificing, because you believe in this thing that’s bigger than yourself, because you’re honorable. You were a tattoo artist because you are creative, artistic, smart, and have a heart for people and helping them make art out of memories. None of that’s changed simply because you got hurt, Jace. You’re the same guy. All of those beautiful, amazing qualities are still there, and that’s why I love you, and you can’t tell me not to.”

  Jace’s blue eyes held mine for a moment, before he looked away, dropping his gaze to his hands; his good hand covering the injured one. I watched him as he uncovered his damaged hand, and held it up to me. “I’m
not the same guy you used to know, Kat. You deserve someone else, someone who can give you and Jax the best of life. I’m fucked up, Kat. You pick me and it’s gonna be endless doctors’ appointments, filling prescriptions, more surgeries, and helping me with everything. It’s not right for me to put that on you. I won’t do that to you…to Jax.”

  I stepped into the room and sat next to Jace on the bed. I took his bad hand between mine, holding a little tighter when he tried to pull it back. I ran my fingers over the deep scars, even daring to touch the places where his fingers once had been, now reduced to masses of skin and bone, painfully out of place among his other fingers. I locked my eyes with his and brought it to my lips, kissing each scar, each finger, and when I finished kissing every inch, laid it to rest on my cheek. The only sound was of our breathing, mingled together, and as I watched Jace, searching his eyes, a single tear slipped down his cheek. “I love you, Jace. All of you.”

  He pulled his hand away and buried his face in his hands as more tears fell. I wrapped my arms around him and let my own tears fall on his shoulder as he sobbed against me, his body wracking as he released the pain he’d pent up inside himself for I didn’t know how long.

  Chapter Seven — Jace

  During my deployment, before everything went to hell, I’d had endless hours to think and in that time, I’d created multiple fantasy versions of what my reunion with Kat would be like. When that bomb went off, all those dreams and plans had blown to pieces right along with it. I’d ached for Kat, spent hours wishing she would somehow appear at my hospital bedside. I dreamed of her simple smile, soothing voice, dark, shiny hair. Over the past months, those thoughts and yearnings had been stuffed down so deep, out of self preservation, that holding her in my arms, an overwhelming surge of buried emotions shot to the surface. I couldn’t get enough of her. I ran my hands—both of them—over her arms, through her silky hair, along her jaw, over her lips.