Saving the Seal 2: A BWWM Navy Seal Interracial Romance

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Saving the Seal 2: A BWWM Navy Seal Interracial Romance Page 5

by Cristina Grenier


  “Owen, Stella’s not a stranger.” Genevieve interrupted as gently as she could. She wasn’t ecstatic about being faced with a temper tantrum this early in the morning. “You’ve met her hundreds of times.”

  “But she’s not my fucking therapist, Genevieve.” Owen’s tone was sharp enough to make her flinch. “You are. How am I supposed to go into a session and meet with someone unexpectedly like that? Stella doesn’t know what I’m going through. We’ve never had a single session before. I’m not comfortable with her in that respect and I never will be!” As he spoke, the SEAL’s voice rose to higher and higher volumes, until finally, Genny snapped under the stress.

  She hadn’t asked Stella to interrogate the man. Simply to make small talk with him so they could at least still get the session in. Having another therapist talk to Owen in that respect would have been illegal anyway. Genny and Genny alone had been charged with his treatment, and only after completing a mountain of paperwork that almost compared to the one that now arrived on her desk daily.

  “Owen, I can’t shield you forever! There will be times when I can’t be there and that’s what I’m trying to prepare you for! The goal of your treatment is to learn to work through your issues yourself. You can’t use me as a crutch forever!”

  “Goddamn it, Genny!” A soft cry of surprise escaped her as Owen leapt from his chair, toppling it in a swift moment. “You’re not my crutch! It’s not about depending on you for treatment. It’s about needing you! Trusting you! With not just my issues but with understanding the kind of person that I am!” His words echoed through the entryway of the house, shocking Genny with their intensity and making Eddie cower under the coffee table.

  In the silence that reigned afterwards, the guilt crept back in on her.

  She had been neglecting him. She’d hardly spent a moment with Owen all week, and then she’d handed off his appointment without even telling him. That had been callous of her – something she shouldn’t have done regardless of how busy she was.

  “I’m sorry.” Owen swallowed thickly, raking his hair back from his brow as he turned away from her to lean against the kitchen counter. His tone had gone from a shout to the barest murmur in under a minute. “I’m sorry, Genevieve. I just…no one knows me like you do. No one.”

  The young woman blinked back tears. Rising from the couch, she hurried into the kitchen to wrap her arms around her boyfriend’s midsection. She rested her head against his back, feeling like an utter and complete cad. “No, Owen. I’m the one who should be sorry. I should have made time for that session. Everything’s been so crazy and I…I haven’t been spending any time with you at all.” Gently, she kissed over the knobs of his spine until she reached the base of his neck. “I miss you. I do. I’m just a mess right now. I need time to adjust.”

  “I know.” Owen returned gruffly through the curtain of his hair. “I don’t mean to make things harder for you. I’m just…I’m a fucking mess, Genny, and no one knows that better than you.”

  “Owen,” Her voice a hushed reprimand, Genny cupped his cheek, forcing her lover to look at her. “You’re not a mess. Far from it.” Reaching up, she smoothed dark hair from his brow before trailing a thumb over his lips. “Do you know how long it takes vets to recover from PTSD?”

  Slowly, the man shook his head, unspeaking. “Five to ten years, if not longer.” She answered her own question lowly. “Some never get better. For you to have come as far as you have in just two years…that’s amazing. And you’re only getting better every day.”

  The SEAL’s cheeks flushed at her praise as his eyes slid from hers embarrassedly. He was stubbornly quiet for a moment before opening his mouth. “I hate that goddamn recorder though.”

  Genny laughed, even as a shiver passed through her at the sensation of his lips moving against her fingertips. “I know you do. And I’m proud of you for sticking with it.”

  Owen merely rolled his eyes, taking her hands in his as the tension between them eased. Softly, sensuously, he kissed each of her fingertips, sending an ache of hunger down to pulse between her legs. However, after his mouth brushed over one of her thumbs, he paused, glancing down at the digit in concern. “What happened here?” The SEAL indicated the small, red spot where a rose’s thorn had penetrated her skin the night before.

  Genny had almost forgotten about it. “Oh. I pricked it. On some roses.”

  Almost immediately, Owen’s eyes narrowed as his grip tightened slightly on her hands. “Roses?”

  Oh, hell. She might as well tell him now. It was no big deal, anyway. “I got another box of unmarked roses. Only this time they were already dead.” She frowned at the memory. “No biggie, they probably just sat somewhere for too long.”

  As little as she cared about her injury, her explanation only made Owen’s brow furrow further. She knew he wanted to ask her more about the flowers, but Genny hardly wanted to argue after they had been on their way to making up. “Owen, don’t worry about it. Like I said, they were dead. I’ll probably thrown them out myself.” She drew his mouth down to hers, kissing him with all the skill she possessed.

  The gesture worked, and Owen soon groaned against his mouth, forgetting his concern as he lifted her smaller frame against his. In a truce, he was carrying her down the hall towards the bedroom, and Genny thought of nothing but having him inside of her as soon as humanly possible.

  Neither of them noticed the wound on her thumb had re-opened, staining the pristine white sheets with tiny, individual drops of bright crimson.

  Chapter Four: Someone Watching

  Owen knew things were hard for Genevieve. For the first month of her job, she hardly ever came home before eleven PM. However, after their argument, she made sure never to miss their weekly appointments, and he tried to commit himself to his exercises as much as he could. Journaling, recording, taking care of Eddie and visiting Gina daily served to keep him busy.

  He had to admit that Sean’s wife was now the size of a very ripe watermelon. Though she insisted that she wasn’t going to deliver for another two months, he feared she might pop any day, and he certainly wasn’t ready yet. Despite the size of her belly, however, the Latina woman continued to race around the backyard with Eddie, and Owen kept a wary eye on both of them, waiting for her to fall over and kill herself.

  Things gradually adjusted into a daily routine. He would wake up early enough to have coffee with Genny before she went to work – she had reluctantly upgraded from tea after nearly falling asleep at work several times – and then he would spend the day trying not to miss her. He eventually got used to the silence of the house and went out with Eddie when it got to be too much. His mornings at the shooting range slowly but surely increased the accuracy of his shot, and by the end of the month, he found there was little about which he could actively complain.

  Little, that was, except for the roses.

  At the mere thought of the flowers, the dark-haired man scowled. By this point, there were no less than four bouquets adorning the house. One in the kitchen, one in the bedroom, one in the living room, and one in the bathroom. Each one of the vases Genny had chosen held only five roses, no more and no less.

  The sight of them made him anxious.

  Apparently, Genny got a new box every week from her secret admirer, and though she assured him that his unease was just from possessiveness, Owen secretly disagreed. He couldn’t get that phone call out of his head. Whoever it had been sounded like they wanted to do harm to Genny – and the prospect was enough to set him on high alert.

  He mentioned his concerns to Sean via a Skype session. When he could finally get a word in edgewise after being interrogated about everything from Gina’s eating habits to the color of the new nursery, he finally got to air his worries. Sean listened to his story in silence before ultimately shrugging.

  “I dunno man. It sounds fishy, but you said she’s gotten these flowers a couple of times and nothing has happened, right? It’s probably some weird prank. Someone who just really adm
ires her.”

  Heaving a sigh, Owen rubbed Eddie’s head errantly. “Maybe. But how would they have gotten my number?”

  Sean rubbed his shaved head contemplatively. “Lucky guess? I don’t know. They haven’t called you since, right?”

  Owen shook his head. “Well, maybe you should be grateful then. Less flowers your ass has to buy.” Though the green-eyed man knew his CO was trying to lighten the situation, he couldn’t bring himself to smile. He just couldn’t get rid of the gut feeling that something was wrong.

  Sean suggested that he try to put it to the back of his mind, and for a week, Owen did. Genny got her first weekday off in a while and they took Eddie to the park for a picnic. Somehow, the dog ended up eating more food than they did and was promptly sick in the car on the way back home. Genny was remarkably good-natured about the whole thing, however, even volunteering to clean up afterwards.

  When they got home, they lounged together on the sofa, half watching a documentary on the North Pole as he toyed with the hair at the base of her neck. She loved it when he touched her there and immediately went completely limp. As Owen looked down at her relaxed form, he smiled. She was most beautiful like this – lying back against him at peace, without a worry in the world.

  Unbidden, an image of the gorgeous woman’s belly round with his child popped into his mind. As nervous as he was about the impending birth of Sean’s son, he found the image of a pregnant Genny only elicited a strange warmth in his gut. It was something he could get used to - he realized – the thought of him and Genny having a baby together. They would make cute kids.

  In that moment, he had the urge to say them. The three little words that so often eluded him. Even though Genevieve assured him that she knew that he adored her, that didn’t stop him from trying to remove whatever was keeping him from telling her straight out. What was so hard about it, really?

  He did love her, and with all the shit she put up with, she deserved to hear it.

  Just as Owen opened his mouth to attempt them, however, the doorbell rang. Genny immediately straightened, looking up at him in curiosity. From the end of the couch, Eddie’s ears perked as well. “Did you order food?” She inquired lazily.

  He shook his head. “No, not yet.”

  Arching a brow, the young woman raised herself from the sofa to go answer the door. When she rounded the corner to the foyer, he lost sight of her. Closing his eyes, Owen leaned back against the couch. Hopefully, it wasn’t some salesman or religious zealot hoping to convert them. If this was going to be Genevieve’s only day off for a while, he wanted to monopolize it.

  He was of half a mind to go tell the visitors to fuck off, but before he could get up to act on the inclination, the most terrifying sound he’d ever heard split the air, freezing him in place:

  Genevieve’s horrified scream.

  Owen sprang from the couch with Eddie hot on his heels, rushing to the doorway. He found Genny standing there, her back pressed against the door as she stared down at the white box on their doorstep.

  It was clear that she had opened it, as the ribbon lay on the ground, forgotten. At the site of what was in the opened box, however, Owen inhaled sharply.

  It was a dead kitten. Not only that, the thing had been brutally killed, its neck twisted at a horrible angle.

  Though Owen knew firsthand how strong Genny was – how much it took to upset her – he saw tears in her eyes at the sight of the helpless little animal. Atop the kitten’s body was a hastily scrawled note stained with dirt and dried blood.

  The perfect pet for a meddling, scheming whore.

  The SEAL forced himself to swallow the sick fury that rose in his throat. He’d known something was amiss the moment he laid eyes on those roses.

  A low curse escaped him as he took Genny into his arms, pulling her protectively against his chest. As he comforted her, his sharp eyes looked over the front yard and the street beyond. Eddie had ventured warily beyond the front door, sniffing disgustedly at the contents of the package left there. His master scanned every patch of lawn, looking for danger behind every tree and parked car.

  Whoever had left this little “gift” couldn’t have gotten very far. The bell rang perhaps five minute ago. Owen could still make out faint prints on the grass around the front door.

  All at once, a rustling came from the bushes at the far end of the yard. Eddie sprang into action. Though the pup was fun-loving and friendly to all who knew him, Owen hadn’t neglected his training. Eddie could be mean as hell when someone threatened those he loved. The Rottweiler shot into the bushes with a growl and there was a soft cry from within.

  Owen would have been perfectly willing for Eddie to extract the perpetrator, but Genny sprang into action before he could stop her. Tearing from his arms, she streaked across the yard to grab Eddie’s collar and make him heel. “Eddie, no!” Despite the fact that Owen shot after her as soon as he got over his surprise, that didn’t stop her from claiming the edge of the jacket Eddie had captured to extract the rest of their squirming victim from the bushes.

  The SEAL skidded to a halt within two feet of his lover, looking on in shock.

  It was a kid. Not more than five years old.

  The boy was terrified of the barking Eddie, who had calmed down substantially but was still wary. He was practically trying to climb Genny in his attempt to get away from the mutt, and without hesitation, she lifted him into her arms.

  “Eddie, heel!” Owen barked, still trying to comprehend what was going on. Eddie sat by his master’s feet almost immediately, looking about as confused as Owen himself. Meanwhile, Genny was busy trying to calm the child in her arms.

  “Honey, it’s OK. Eddie won’t hurt you.” Despite her own obvious fear, she emanated an aura of calm for the kid. It took about five minutes for the child to stop crying, and even then, he continued to cling to Genny as if his life depended on it.

  What the hell? Obviously they had gotten it wrong. Gazing around the yard, Owen tried to discern if anyone else was hiding nearby, but there wasn’t the slightest sign. Save for the footprints by the door, which he hadn’t gotten a terribly good look at. “Honey,” His gaze was drawn back to Genny and the child she held when she spoke again. “What are you doing here? Where are your parents?”

  The kid’s large brown eyes shone with tears. His blonde hair was mussed and covered in dirt and twigs from the bushes. “I don’t know.” He sniffled, hiccupping as his nose ran. “The man won’t let me see them unless I take the box!” His voice rose to a wail at the end of the statement.

  Owen’s blood ran cold. Unless he took the box? The box that had ended up on their doorstep?

  “What box?” Genevieve pressed him gently, and Owen could see that she was equally disturbed. “Did it have a purple ribbon on it?”

  The small boy nodded miserably, wiping his nose and effectively smearing evidence of his grief all over his face. “He told me not to open it. He said if I didn’t take it, I wouldn’t see my mommy and daddy again.”

  Fucking hell. “Owen,” When Genevieve’s gaze rose to his, her hazel eyes were oddly calm, “Call the police.”

  The green-eyed man frowned deeply. “I will. Once you and him are safely inside.” He gestured to the kid in her arms, every muscle in his body tensed. Genevieve nodded only once before striding back across the yard. She let the little boy bury his face in her neck and rubbed the back of his neck, effectively shielding him from the sight of the dead kitten on the doorstep. Once she and he were inside the house, Eddie padded in behind them, and Owen turned to give the yard a last long, worried look.

  Who the hell would send a kid to do something like this?

  The police arrived within twenty minutes, and another ten minutes after that, there were no less than five cops at the house investigating. At the kitchen table, Detective Sean Miller, a man about the same age as Owen with dark blonde hair and gray eyes, took their careful statements. Though every effort had been made to disengage the boy they had found from a
round Genevieve’s neck, he held on tightly, and ultimately, was allowed to remain in her lap.

  Owen told the detective solemnly about the roses Genny had been receiving for the past month, and the blooms were immediately taken from the house for analysis. The cat was cleaned up as quickly as possible, as not to scare the child, and Owen tried to swallow the nausea churning in his gut when he thought of who might have any reason to kill such a small animal. The detective told them that they were putting a hold on their mail for the next few days just in case whoever had sent the dire package attempted to use the postal system.

  Crazily enough, the authorities discovered who the boy was within an hour of arriving at the house. His name was Peter Halston, and he had gone missing from another county about two weeks ago. The boy was a bit too distressed to do much more than demand to see his parents before eventually falling asleep on Genevieve’s shoulder.

  What had formerly been a relaxing day had turned into something out of a nightmare. It was three hours before the police finally finished at the house and promised to stay in contact with them. They also agreed to post surveillance cameras around the front yard and bug all of the phones, including both he and Genny’s mobile units.

  As the detective and his crew prepared to leave, the adrenaline slowly began to ebb from Owen’s system. He watched a female cop take a sleeping Peter gently from Genny, noting the fond way she handled the child.

  His lover was good with kids, he realized. He hadn’t gotten to see her interact with them much, as she was an adult psychiatrist, but she had somehow handled Peter with grace. She’d known not to let Eddie harm him, instinctively, and managed to soothe him when he was near hysterical. Owen could hardly imagine what the little boy had been put through. Plucked from his parents and then forced by hostile strangers to deliver an unmarked package.

  Whoever was behind this was pretty damn sick.

  After everyone had left, the house seemed unusually quiet. The peace of their afternoon had been broken, and neither of them seemed to know what their next move was. Genny finally suggested that they order food and they sat in awkward quiet as they waited for it to arrive.

 

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