by Ivy Jordan
SEAL DO OVER
Ivy Jordan
Copyright © 2018 by Ivy Jordan
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Contents
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Epilogue
SEAL’S SECRET BABY
SEAL’S FAKE MARRIAGE
SEAL OBSESSED
SEAL DEAREST
SEAL’S SECOND CHANCE
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Chapter 1
Luke
My eyes squinted as the sun started to set against the beautiful ranch. The bale of hay I sat on poked into my jeans as I squirmed to find a better spot. It was beautiful. Not just the work that was being done to help the retired and wounded soldiers, but the ranch itself.
“How you like it here?” Theo, a retired doctor from the SEALS and basically my boss, sat beside me on the poky hay bale.
“I love it,” I gushed, feeling a sense of worth and calmness I’d never felt before.
Theo was the first friend I’d made at the ranch, and even though we didn’t talk much, we always seemed to be near one another. He was older, in his early forties, and as a doctor, I knew what he must’ve seen in the field. His dark eyes, though riddled with pain at times, calmed me, and I assumed there must be something about me that calmed him as well.
“You feel like making a run into town?” he asked, handing me a slip of paper folded in half.
I opened it up and nodded as I read the list of supplies.
“This for the cabin?” I asked.
“Yup. You never know when another lost soul will find their way here. Have to be ready,” he smiled, patting me on the back as he got up.
I nodded and shoved the paper into my back pocket. Theo walked away, headed towards the stables where he spent most of his time. The horses were therapeutic for many of the vets that showed up to the ranch. For me, I preferred working with my hands, building cabins, doing repairs, and working in the fields.
It was already getting late, and I knew the local hardware store in the small town would close soon, so I headed off in my truck to purchase everything on the list Theo had given me.
An eerie feeling ran down my spine as I drove through the curvy roads. The town was familiar, an unpleasant memory, but I knew that being there would be part of my healing.
A small white house, pushed far back from the street, abandoned and disheveled, caused me to pull to the side of the road. I stared across the beaten and worn road at the lonely house, remembering my time there as a child and teenager. It was the house that made me determined to be something more, something better, to be someone.
I shook my head as I tried to contemplate how six foster kids managed to fit into the tiny house, along with the couple that seemed more irritated by our presence than eager to help.
The woman, Wilma, had fire-red hair that was curled so tight and short to her head it looked like rusted springs, and her eyes were so black they were void of any emotion. I didn’t miss her drunken berating, her constant torture with words—you’re worthless, you’ll never amount to anything, you should kiss my feet for taking you in. I could still hear her screeching voice.
The man, Donald, didn’t seem to take much interest in us kids. He was quiet, drank too much, and often fell asleep in his tattered recliner in front of the large window of the house. I used to watch him stare out into the road, as if he were waiting on someone, something. He’d stay like that until the liquor he consumed took its toll and his eyes would close.
I was there for years, longer than any of the others, except Candace, a beautiful blonde with a smile so sweet I’d never forget it. She was my first love, my first kiss, my first everything. She made living in that terrible white house tolerable. They told me she ran away, but I didn’t believe it. We were in love. She would’ve told me if she planned to leave. She would’ve taken me with her.
My heart felt heavy as I pulled my truck back onto the road. Memories of Candace swirled in my mind as I continued my journey into town.
As I rounded a corner, I nearly hit a woman on the side of the road, stumbling, almost toppling over as she swayed to the middle of the lane.
I slammed on my brakes and put the truck in park. The woman didn’t seem fazed. It was like she didn’t even know I was there.
“Are you okay?” I called to her, opening my truck door and starting to step out.
She didn’t turn back towards my voice or respond.
I left the truck running and the door open and walked towards her as she stumbled down the road. I assumed she was drunk as I reached for her, gripping her by the wrist to get her attention.
She flinched dramatically, turning towards me, her face bloodied and bruised.
“I’m sorry,” I stammered, staring at the woman in disbelief.
It had to be my mind playing tricks on me after stopping at that dreadful house. Blood covered the woman’s t-shirt, more than could’ve come from just her. Her blonde hair was tangled and frayed, and her hazel eyes were distant but familiar. It couldn’t be, no, there was no way this was Candace.
“Where are you going? Can I give you a ride?” I asked, still feeling as if my mind was caving in on me.
The woman wouldn’t speak. Her head pushed down, her eyes barely open as they hung to the road. There were no shoes on her dirty, bloodied feet, and it was unclear how long she’d been walking. No smell of alcohol surrounded her as I stood closely by her side, and there were no signs of emotion of any kind—just a blank emptiness.
“You’re safe now. I’ll help you.” I wrapped my arms around her as she shuddered at my touch. “I won’t hurt you. You’re safe,” I said softly, guiding her towards my truck.
She didn’t fight me or try to run away as I opened the passenger door to my truck. I helped her climb inside, closing her in safely, and rushed across the truck to the driver’s side.
I turned around in the gravel, heading back to the ranch. I wasn’t sure what to do, but I knew Theo would.
“I’m gonna get you help,” I promised, glancing over at the familiar woman.
She stared at her lap with her hands clenched together, nervously fidgeting as she slunk towards the truck door, as far away from me in the cab as possible.
We passed the little white house, the one that had me convinced I’d gone crazy, and she didn’t so much as look up. Maybe it wasn’t her after all.
I pulled the truck up to the stables, leaving my lights shining towards the half-opened doors. The woman shuddered when I opened her door. I extended my hand to her, telling her again that she was safe and that I was there to help. Her eyes lifted, staring directly into mine. I knew right then I wasn’t crazy. I wasn’t imagining anything. This was Candace.
“What’s going on?” Theo asked, walking from the stables towards the truck.
“I found her walking down the street,” I explained, helping Candace from the truck.
Theo’s eyes filled with shock as he stared at the bruised and bloodied woman.
“What happened?” he questioned.
“I don’t know. She’s in shock, I think. She won’t speak,” I replied.
“Ma’am, can you tell me what happened to you?” Theo asked.
Candace didn’t look up. She didn’t speak.
“We need to take her to my office,” Theo spoke quickly.
I didn’t hesitate to follow his orders, guiding Candace towards his office just a few yards from the stables.
She was so frail and thin as I slid my arm around her back. If this truly was Candace, and I was pretty certain it was, she was a shell of who she once was.
Chapter 2
Candace
My body ached, and my mind raced, but I was certain that this man, this kind stranger, was no stranger at all. I stared into the deep blue eyes of this man who offered his help, and I knew it was Luke, my first love, my only true love.
We were just kids, and so much had changed since he’d saw me last. I’d changed. I was no longer the sweet girl he loved.
I quickly pulled my eyes from his when he glanced in my direction. This wasn’t what I wanted. I didn’t want him—or this man—to get involved. I didn’t need their help.
“I’m fine,” I mumbled, my throat so sore from the thick hands that wrapped around it earlier that night.
The men stopped, turning to stare at me like I was a freak, a mute that said her first words. Damn, Luke was still so handsome, so strong. I wanted to fall into his arms, but I knew it would only complicate his life. I was a complication, a dysfunctional mess, a train wreck, as I’d been told time and time again. If he didn’t remember me, I wasn’t going to jog his memory.
“I think we should get you to a hospital,” the man with Luke quickly suggested.
He was older, and his face was stern, his suggestion still floating in the air. I looked around the office I’d entered, realizing it was for the animals on the farm, not for humans.
“No,” I insisted, Luke’s eyes widening as they stared into mine.
“You need to let us help you,” Luke said calmly.
“I don’t need any help,” I snapped.
My hands reached for my throat, soothing the tender skin that I was certain to be covered in bruises by now. I watched them both stare at me with a different type of confusion on their expressions. I think he knew who I was. I had to get away from there, from him, before he called me by name and ruined his life by trying to be in mine.
“Let me at least get a few x-rays,” the older man suggested.
I started to protest, but my throat gave out, refusing to bring my words to the surface. I struggled to push past the pain, to get my refusal heard, but only coughed. The pain resonated through my side, causing me to grab at my ribs just as my knees buckled beneath me.
The floor was growing nearer, but before the hardness hit my knees, strong hands gripped me, pulling me back to my feet.
“You’re safe,” Luke’s assurance gave me a sense of security, even though I knew it to be false.
There was no saving me. I was my own worst enemy.
I didn’t fight to get away as I was guided towards a small room. The older man opened the door, an old wooden door that had a name placard on it, reading Dr. Theo Garvin.
“I can walk,” I grumbled through the pain of speech.
“I just want to help you. I won’t hurt you,” Luke said softly, his warm breath brushing against my neck as he released his grip on me from behind.
“What if I hurt you?” I exhaled.
“What do you mean?” Luke whispered, his eyes penetrating into mine.
“Are you able to stand on your own?” the older man asked.
I assumed he was the doctor, this Theo Garvin that was mentioned on the door. He wore a plaid shirt, jeans, and dirty cowboy boots that gave off a strong odor of manure.
I nodded, unwilling to try to speak again. Unwilling to explain what I meant to Luke.
He smiled as he guided me behind a white curtain wall. Large white lights hung on the walls, x-rays, I presumed. It was better than going to a hospital, and after they found out my body wasn’t broken, only my spirit, they’d have to let me go on my way.
“Turn to your right, lifting your arms above your head,” the doctor instructed.
I did as he said, hiding the pain that bit me as my hands lifted past my ears.
“You’re doing great,” the doctor encouraged as he continued to snap flashes from the various poses he’d instruct me to make.
Luke’s eyes were glued to me. I didn’t have to turn towards him to feel the glare. He knew. He had to know.
Finally, the doctor was done, and Luke quickly moved towards me to help me to a seat outside the door.
“Are you okay?” he questioned.
I nodded, even though it was obvious I was far from okay. I couldn’t even remember the last time I was okay, or what okay even felt like, but I knew this wasn’t it.
The doctor walked out of the small room, his eyes glaring into Luke’s. I watched as he jerked his head in the direction of the room, beckoning Luke to enter. Luke didn’t close the door all the way as he entered, his eyes shifting back and forth from the doctor to me. I wasn’t going to run. I knew that’s what he feared. Even if I wanted to—and I did want to—I couldn’t with the pain growing out of control after moving so much during the x-rays.
Their voices were whispers but carried out into the room where I sat and waited. Luke sounded angry, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying, just the tone of his voice.
“This is years of abuse,” I heard the doctor say.
I cringed. Abuse meant I was a victim. I hated that word. I wasn’t a victim. This was my life. I made the decisions. They weren’t great ones, but they were all based on my options, which always seemed to be very limited. The decisions I’d made in the past several hours were certainly not great, but I had no other option.
The thought of Luke pitying me made me angry. My hands clenched into fists as they sat on my lap, and I thought about running out the front door. We hadn’t driven far from where he’d picked me up. I knew exactly where I was and where I could go. That little white house, now abandoned, was my hideout, my plan to lay low until I could put together a few options, ones better than what I had. Staying here with Luke wasn’t an option.
I stood from my chair, nearly falling to the floor as pain surged through my body. I bit down on the side of my cheek, moving the pain to a place where I had control, and walked towards the door. My hand reached for the doorknob as the men emerged from the small room.
“Where are you going?” Luke asked.
His eyes were soft and calming, even though his tone was grim. I didn’t want to tell him that I was running off to hide in the house that I considered to be hell. He didn’t know what happened there, and he didn’t need to, now or ever. He was spared, his life obviously together, his path much easier than my own. I didn’t want to ruin it for him.
“You need someone to help car
e for you,” the doctor instructed.
Luke’s eyes lingered on mine as if they were searching for the young girl he once knew and loved. She was gone, so far gone that even I couldn’t recognize her anymore.
“I’ll be fine,” I muttered, stretching my fingers around the cold doorknob.
“No, you won’t. You can stay with me. I’ll keep you safe,” Luke insisted.
Safe: what I wouldn’t give to feel safe.
My lips parted, and my words started to flow from my aching throat. My refusal was on the tip of my tongue when the doctor decided to speak again.
“Either stay with Luke or I can call the cops and let them sort this out,” the doctor stated.
Luke. It was his name. It was him. He was still as beautiful and as kind as I remembered.
The mention of cops made me cringe. Going to jail, to prison, that wasn’t on my list of doable options.
“You’re covered in blood. It’s obvious from your wounds that not all of it is yours. Calling the police is actually what should’ve been done already,” the doctor spoke again, turning his head towards Luke.
Did he ask him not to call them?
I shook my head back and forth as my knees began to weaken. I knew I wouldn’t make it far, not in this shape, but I still wanted to run, to avoid becoming a burden in Luke’s life.