Saving the Seal 2: A BWWM Navy Seal Interracial Romance

by Cristina Grenier

  After that work out, a bit of a nap was in order, and then, true to his word, Owen did take her on a short hike through the property. Genny looked slightly ridiculous bundled up in his father’s hunting coat, a wool scarf and a huge pair of boots, but she kept up with him just fine. For about an hour, they made their way through the thick trees, and more than once, he pointed out a group of deer to her in the distance. There were hundreds of them in these woods, and had his father been present, he would have taken advantage. But Owen didn’t plan on hunting for their meals. He’d brought a cooler packed full of steaks and chops.

  They would eat like kings.

  The couple didn’t once run into their babysitters, leading Owen to believe that maybe they’d given them a bit of extra space to enjoy, and he couldn’t complain.

  He showed Genny how moss grew on the north sides of trees and how to find signs of rabbit burrows. The watched tiny fish swim beneath the surface of a frozen creek and nearly stumbled into a bear cave.

  Around dusk or so, Genny finally announced she was freezing and needed food, so they headed back to the cabin. He wasn’t an expert cook by any means, but Owen was better with a skillet over a fire than he was with the gas burner at his house. As the smell of cooking steak filled the cabin, he smiled. Eddie would have been driven crazy by that particular scent. However, the pup stayed behind with Gina and Luis. Owen was a little worried he’d catch wind of a rabbit and lope off into the woods to get lost.

  The day was, by far, the most peaceful they’d had in a long time. Despite the fact that Genny declared that she was stuffed and couldn’t move a muscle, Owen coaxed her into a position that allowed him easy access to the most decadent parts of her. By the time he was finished having his dessert, his lover had forgotten that she was supposed to be staving him off and they lost themselves in one another once again in the private warmth of the den.

  Around eleven PM, Owen lie on his side with her in his arms, kissing her neck slowly, purposefully. He needed a half hour or so before he would be ready to go again, but he didn’t intend to spend any of that time away from Genevieve’s smooth, caramel hued skin. She was quiet as he stroked his fingers slowly from the line of her waist over her hip, and he started to drift off when she spoke softly.

  “It’s been over two years.”

  “Hm?” He inquired, raising his head to gaze down at her. She was rumpled, naked, and utterly delicious.

  “You’ve been working with me for over two years, Owen.” Genny’s smile was fond and sublime as she cupped his cheek, stroking his hair from where it fell into his face. “And you’ve come so far.”

  Owen took her hand in his, pressing a kiss to her palm before replacing it on his stubbly cheek. “I have you to thank for that. You’re the only one who can tolerate my bullshit.”

  His lover laughed softly. “That’s right.” As her mirth tapered off, her expression sobered, and she searched his face slowly. As the minutes passed, Owen wondered what she was looking for – until she finally whispered to him, “I’m also the only one who can tell you that I think you’re ready.”

  Owen felt his stomach tighten at the words, but he didn’t move. Instead, he merely stared at the woman beneath him, wanting the moment between them to last. “Ready for what?”

  Genevieve exhaled slowly. “To go back.” Her slender fingers trailed over his lips slowly. “Back to where you belong.”

  The SEAL’s heart hammered against his ribs.

  How long had he been waiting to hear those words? How much had he endured? Nightmares and endless recording sessions - listening to himself relive the deaths of Freddie, Eric, and everyone else who had depended on him over and over again. He wanted to tear up every journal entry he’d ever written, to tear himself apart in grief.

  And then, finally…the acceptance had come.

  It had taken an eternity, but he’d finally forgiven himself. He and Genevieve had no formal conversation about it, and he wasn’t on record saying that he was cured. But he knew. Getting revenge, making the people who had hurt him pay…it didn’t matter anymore. He wasn’t consumed by anger and he wasn’t a zombie who went through each day reliving the past.

  It was all because of her.

  Of course, Genny was his psychiatrist. She was patient and kind with him when no one else was. But she had also loved him at a time where he’d believed such a thing was impossible. When he’d been resolved to spend the rest of his life alone, wallowing in his grief.

  But now, the healing was finished.

  She was letting him go – giving him leave to return to his duties. Sean would be thrilled, and even cantankerous Gina would be proud of him.

  But he would be leaving Genny. And she was everything to him.

  “I’ll sign your papers when we get back to town.” Her words brought him back to the present, where he was staring down at the most beautiful woman he’d ever known. “I’m so proud of you, Owen.”

  Without a word, he lowered his head, pressing his face into her shoulder as he was consumed by his thoughts. He wanted to go back. Of course he wanted to. The prospect of being able to re-commission thrilled him. He wanted the sand, the sun, and the pride that came with every mission completed.

  But he also wanted Genevieve.

  “I need time.” He breathed lowly against her warm skin, closing his eyes tightly. He didn’t know how else to enunciate his needs. He simply had to say what he could and hope she understood.

  Genevieve was good at that.

  The young woman wrapped her arms around him and he felt her lips, soft and supple, against his ear. “Of course.”

  How did she always know exactly what to say?

  With a long sigh, Owen held her against him. What the hell had he done to deserve a woman like this? Absolutely nothing.

  Warm and utterly content in their little cocoon, he let himself drift. How was it that he was more at ease here, twenty miles from the nearest town, than he was in his own home?

  Owen had no idea how long he drifted in and out of consciousness. He didn’t need to be up, at the shooting range, or to feed Eddie, so part of him felt as if he could laze around forever. At some point, Genny wiggled her way from underneath him and arranged her body against his so both of them could drink in the delicious warmth of the ebbing fire.

  It might have been around two or three in the morning when he heard it.

  Half awake, Owen at first judged the low scratching sound to be a tree branch or the wind knocking something against the cabin. However, when the noise came again, he was instantly awake.

  There was a crackle, then a short shuffling like footfall over the dead leaves that carpeted the forest floor.

  Someone was out here with them.

  For a full minute, he didn’t move. He knew damn well that if one of the surveillance guys had come to check on them, he would have announced himself first. No…whoever this was hoped to sneak up on them.

  Carefully, Owen began to extricate himself from Genevieve’s embrace. He was gentle enough that he didn’t disturb her, and within a few moments, she lay curled beneath the blankets, safely hidden from view. The SEAL raised himself up into a crouched position, listening intently.

  Now there came the light scraping of something metal against the back door lock.

  They were trying to get inside.

  Owen’s eyes darted to the wardrobe in the front entryway. It was a good twenty feet away, and even if he could get to it quietly and quickly enough, the damn thing was still locked. He wouldn’t be able to retrieve the rifles in time. Inwardly, he cursed himself. He was so wrapped up in being with Genny that he hadn’t adequately prepared to protect her. His switchblade and pistol were still in his bag in the bedroom.

  But he knew better than to leave her by herself – even if she was hidden.

  Silently, carefully, Owen made his way to the back door, pressing his back up against the wall. He unfolded himself into a standing position as the intruder continued to fiddle with the lock. The
SEAL forced his heartrate to slow, and called on the calm that had always served him well in situations like this one.

  And he waited.

  It didn’t take long.

  Within a few seconds, the lock clicked and the door swung open on its hinges. A figure clad all in black stepped into the den cautiously and without a sound.

  Owen pounced.

  As he barreled into the intruder from the side, knocking the figure to the floor, he realized that several things felt wrong. For one, this person was much smaller and lighter than whoever had attacked him at Martha’s house. Not only that, but they were also slower. Clumsier.

  He knocked a pistol from the assailant’s hand with ease before pinning an arm to the floor. As his enemy thrashed wildly, trying to escape, they sent several boxes of empty shells and hunting equipment crashing to the floor. Across the room, Genevieve woke with a start, immediately struggling against the blankets she was buried beneath. “Owen?” When she called to him, her voice was groggy with sleep. “Owen, where are you?”

  At the sound of her voice, the dark figure jerked with new energy. It wasn’t by any amount of skill, but pure desperation, that they broke free of Owen’s grip, kicking him in the stomach viciously before reaching for the pistol they’d dropped. The SEAL cursed loudly, clutching his abdomen even as he reached out to catch the intruder’s ankle and yank them, hard, to the ground.

  What the hell? This was nothing like what he’d encountered on Maple Way. This person was fighting him out of sheer maliciousness. There was no calculation and no real strength behind their efforts. This time, when Owen caught his enemy’s arms, he put due force into his hold, bearing down in a way meant to cause serious harm. As he pressed the assailant flush against the rough wooden floor, the figure’s arm was twisted at in impossible angle and the bone gave way with a loud snap.

  A high, shrill scream of pain filled the room a split second before Owen realized the body beneath him was far too lithe and soft to belong to a man.

  His eyes wide in shock, he restrained the injured figure with one arm, reaching up with his free hand to tear the intruder’s black mask away.

  The next scream to color the air was Genevieve’s. She had escaped from the blankets and now held them to her naked form in shock as they got a look at their attacker.

  Red hair gleamed in the firelight, and green eyes shone in fury and pain as blood flowed from an obviously broken nose. “Stella!” Genevieve’s tone was shrill and disbelieving. “Oh my God, Stella!”

  This was wrong. This was all wrong!

  “What are you doing here?” Owen demanded in an incensed growl. “Where did you come from?”

  “You broke my fucking arm you bastard!” Owen flinched in shock. The voice that came from the redhead’s throat sounded nothing like the Stella he knew. The tone was guttural, low, and full of hatred. “My arm!”

  “Stella, what are you doing?” Genevieve gasped. “Why are you dressed like that? Owen,” She turned to her lover, her expression panicked. “Let her go! We have to call an ambulance!”

  “No.” Owen’s reply was firm and curt. As he said it, Stella twisted in his grip, yowling like an angry cat as she did everything in her power to try and reach for the gun that lie on the floor beside them. “Genny, we need to call the units on duty and get them up here as quick as possible.”

  “But…Stella…” Genevieve’s chest was heaving as she tried to process the events before her, “What’s going on? I don’t understand.”

  “You never understood anything.” Stella spat, her eyes narrow in fury. “And you never will. I should have been made department head after Kant was put away. Me, not you!”

  “Stella…” Genny’s expression was horrified, and Owen could feel her heart break, even as he kept a tight hold on the woman in his grip. “What are you saying?”

  “You’re a whore!” Genny reeled as if she had been physically struck at the words Stella flung at her. “A lying, cheating, ingratiating whore, and I hate you! I hate you!” The way she screamed the words was almost inhuman, and Owen felt his stomach turn at the sick violence in them.

  Before them, Genny was shaking her head in denial, unwilling to believe her eyes. “No. No.”

  Fucking hell. This was completely messed up – in every way imaginable. “Genny,” Owen kept his voice as calm as he could. “Go to the bedroom, get my phone, and call the officers on duty. Do it now.”

  Tears of shock and hurt began to slide down the young woman’s cheeks. She appeared frozen in place, and if she didn’t move, they would be locked in this stalemate until someone came to check on them. “Genevieve!” Owen’s sharp tone cracked through the air like a whip, jerking the psychiatrist to attention. “Get to the phone. NOW.”

  With a sob, the dark-skinned woman clutched a blanket to her nude form as she stood before rushing back towards the bedroom. Once she had disappeared, Stella went limp in his grip, muttering to herself.

  “Whore. Fucking whore.”

  Owen closed his eyes tightly, her words ringing in his ears. What in God’s name was this?

  Chapter Nine: The Bitter Truth

  Stella confessed to everything.

  Even days after, when Genny sat in her office in Riperton filling out the woman’s termination paperwork, she still couldn’t believe it. What she’d seen had shaken her to the core, and the story that unraveled had made her question not only herself, but everything she believed in.

  There wasn’t a time where Stella hadn’t envied her. According to the woman’s written confession, even when they first met, she admired Genny just as much as she’d been jealous of her. Genevieve was one of the finest minds in the department, had superior patient rehabilitation rates, and even though she devoted herself to the job unto abandoning her social life, everyone admired her.

  At first, Stella wanted to learn from her – to be her friend and be taken under her wing. But then, as it became clear that she wouldn’t ever be able to have Genny’s way with patients, she began to hate her. She had stood by Genevieve only in hopes that some of the young Doctor’s acclaim would rub off on she herself.

  When Doctor Kant had been deposed as head of the department, Stella, having worked at Riperton longer, would have naturally taken his place. However, she was passed over in favor of Genevieve in light of the younger Doctor’s role in exposing Kant’s crime, and also in favor of Genny’s superior treatment record.

  It had apparently been too much for Stella to take.

  Using the onus of hatred accrued by those who believed Genevieve had framed Kant as her disguise, she had begun to use the information accrued by her knowledge of her “friend” to stalk and terrorize her. She used a cell phone with an encrypted sim card to send threatening messages to both she and Owen, and she had even kidnapped a small child from his parents to deliver a very special package.

  Stella, in detail, described the night that she broke into Martha’s home. She’d taken pictures of Genny and Gina at the older woman’s house to show them that she knew their every move, then she visited Martha with the pretense of giving her some baked goods. When she was allowed into the home, she attacked the unsuspecting woman. When Martha resisted, she bludgeoned her into unconsciousness. Then, she cut the power to lie in wait for Genny to arrive.

  She toyed with her prey, but hesitated in killing the pregnant Gina when she entered. When Stella retreated to the basement to plan her next move, Owen had arrived. She detailed their struggle in the basement, shoving him over the banister and fleeing from the house before the police arrived.

  After that, she had played a waiting game – pretending to be one of Genevieve’s closest companions while secretly plotting her demise. She allowed the younger doctor a false sense of security just before threatening her again, keeping her exhausted “friend” on her toes.

  She’d suspected that Genny would still want to go to the mountains in the wake of her final scare, and so she’d hidden beneath all the junk in the back of Owen’s truck when
the authorities switched shifts. She waited patiently – over fifteen hours in the cold – for her chance to strike.

  And then Owen had thwarted her.

  When she thought about it, Genny felt sick. She and Stella had been friends for so long. She had been the first person to welcome her into the office when she arrived at Riperton. Genny had gone to Stella’s nieces’ and nephews’ birthday parties, met her parents, and taken weekend trips with her! They always confided in one another and Genny knew that if she could trust no one else, at least she could depend on Stella.

  And then Stella had tried to kill her. All over a job.

  All at once, Riperton was stifling her. So much had gone wrong for Genevieve here. Patients lost and exploited, people lied to and terrorized...if this was what being her wrought, maybe she didn’t belong in the hospital after all. She began to think that maybe the position wasn’t the best for her – and as much as she dreaded trying to find another job, maybe it was time to leave Riperton behind.

  Especially with Stella no longer by her side.

  Even as Genevieve’s eyes clouded with tears, she told herself she wouldn’t cry. Owen and Detective Miller had tried to get her to take a few days off work to process everything, but the young woman was scared that if she stayed at home, she might be overwhelmed with her grief. Stella was going to be incarcerated for the rest of her life and she didn’t, for one split second, regret anything that she’d done. Not killing animals in cold blood, kidnapping a child, assaulting a middle aged woman, and not attempting murder.

  Twice.

  It was just…wrong. Everything about it was wrong.

  At a soft knock on her door, Genny quickly dashed moisture from her cheeks. “Yes?”