SEAL'd Perfection The Complete Collection: A Navy SEAL Romance (19 page)

My eyes snapped open at her steady, definite statement. “You don’t know that…I lost him, Hilda. They
took
him.”

She sat in the chair next to me and took my hands, running her soft fingers over the back of them. “I
do
know, Katherine. You’ll see. You’re an excellent mother, and there is nothing Mitch or that woman could say that would change that. You have friends who will go to war for you.”

I sighed. “I wish it was that easy. You weren’t there last time, Hilda. You don’t know how vicious his lawyers were. He almost got full custody of Jax the first time around. He won’t miss anything this time.”

My original custody battle with Mitch had been a full on battle—one, that at the time, I hadn’t realized was to only be the first of many—filled with warring legal teams, documents, testimonies of our once nearest and dearest, even medical records, showing I’d been diagnosed with depression and wasn’t fit to care for a baby on my own. It was a miracle I’d been able to walk away with fifty percent custody after the character assassination that had taken place inside the judge’s chambers. I’d spent every last dollar I had to find the best lawyers but they’d barely been a match for Mitch’s nest of vipers.

There was no way I could do it again. I wasn’t prepared financially, emotionally, mentally, and I certainly wasn’t willing to drag our now three year old to the front lines. How could Mitch
do
this?

“Have you heard anything from Mitch?” Hilda asked, still stroking my hands.

“No,” I answered, shaking my head. “He won’t take my calls. He won’t let me talk to…” my voice carried away, unable to speak out the horrible truth that I hadn’t even been able to tell my baby goodnight. At my reply, Hilda launched into a scathing rant about Mitch’s astronomical selfishness, which actually did make me feel a little better. Hilda was old enough to be my mother and in a lot of ways, treated me like her own daughter and Jax as though he were her flesh and blood grandson. Since the day we’d move in next door, she’d been a staple in our lives, and in times of crisis, she was the only person who could get me to relax and see the bigger picture.

“I’m going to make us some tea, you’re going to eat some of the oatmeal squares I brought over, and then we’re going to start calling lawyers,” she announced, her tone matter of fact, before rising from the table and going back into the kitchen. She knew where everything was, and I relaxed back against my chair, listening to the sounds of her working to soothe my frayed nerves and calm my racing heart and mind. When she came back a few minutes later, she set a hot cup of chamomile tea in front of me and then lifted the lid off the casserole dish to reveal an oatmeal bake with raspberries and blueberries on top. She wordlessly served a cut to me on a paper napkin from the holder on the center of the table. “Now, I know you’re going to say no, but I want you to know that I have a little savings stashed away for a rainy day, and I want you to—”

“No, no, Hilda please—” I interrupted her, holding up my free hand in a stopping motion. “I can’t do that. Thank you so much for the offer, but please, I couldn’t.”

She pursed her lips and I knew she was stamping down an argument, but after a moment, her expression changed and although I was fairly sure she would bring it up again later, she moved on and started giving me information about the local lawyers she knew. Hilda had lived in our small town for decades, and knew nearly everyone and everything that went on. She recounted stories of other people she knew that had hired lawyers in town for similar reasons, and gave me a few names to start with. I wrote them down on the little notepad I kept by the phone in the kitchen, and thanked her for the information.

By the time Hilda went back next door, I had stopped crying long enough for my mind to recalibrate, and somewhere along the way, locked in on the resolve that yes, I was going to fight, and I was going to win.

* * * *

A long afternoon spent on the phone with various lawyers, getting quote after quote, each of which stretched farther and farther beyond my budget, had done a number on the confidence that Hilda had done her best to instill in me only hours before, and when I finally put away the paperwork and powered down the computer for the night, I was ready to dive headfirst into a bottle of beer.

Which, is exactly what I did.

After the first one, I relaxed a little, my muscles loosened as the warmth of the alcohol hit my stomach and spread out from there. I rarely went beyond one beer, but one hadn’t quite done the trick, so I went back to the fridge and grabbed another. The house was too quiet, so after I popped the top of the second bottle, I switched on the little speaker set that hooked to my phone and cranked up some classic rock music. A couple of songs in, I was heading to the fridge for another beer, and stopped dead in my tracks as the song faded out and transitioned right into one of the songs Jace and I had heard live on our first—and only—date. The beat pulsed through me and I remembered moving to the music with Jace up on the balcony of the bar he’d taken me to. The way his blue eyes had blazed and sparkled as we’d flirted through some close dancing, pulling in just to push off of each other again.

I smiled sadly, remembering the way I’d barked at him the morning that Jax had been taken away. I’d been a devastated mess, and hadn’t really wanted him to go, regretting him leaving almost instantaneously, but I hated the idea of him giving up his whole day to stay and tend to me—especially when there was an ugly voice in the back of my mind telling me that the reason Jax wasn’t home with me was because of him. Since then, I’d been locked in my house, and had ignored all of his calls and texts. I didn’t know what to say, so I chose to stay silent.

In reality, I knew it wasn’t Jace’s fault, Mitch had been pushing for full custody since the day I’d filed for divorce, but somehow, my gut knew that my relationship with Jace—whatever it could be called—was the final piece of the puzzle that led to a judge signing an order to have Jax taken away.

The song was reaching the climax when I flicked it off, leaving an odd silence in the room. I went to the fridge, grabbed another beer, and went back to the couch. I propped my feet up on the coffee table, nudging my chicken scratch notes aside with my sock clad toes, and turned on the TV. A year ago, in an effort to cut back, I’d canceled my cable service and was left with half a dozen channels, which, at the time, had been fine because with work and school and Jax, I hardly had time to clean the house, let alone sit and watch a TV show. However, as I started my third cycle through the lineup, I was tempted to call the cable company and ask for more to be turned on. Eventually, I settled on a cheesy, made for TV movie, and let the bad acting, terrible special effects, and stilted dialog carry my overtaxed brain away.

After a couple more beers, I’d changed my tune and deemed the film Academy Award worthy and cheered for the hero at the end. Out loud. Throwing popcorn in the air as confetti.

I was so busy celebrating that I didn’t hear the knock on the door, and when I spun around and found Jace standing in the now open door, my mouth dropped open. “Hey! You caaan’t just…hey!” I shouted, stumbling over a corner of the coffee table as I started across the room. “Whatarya doin there, here?” I shook my head, trying to stop myself from stuttering, but all I ended up doing was making the room spin. I hunched over and grabbed the arm of the couch to keep upright.

“Are you drunk?” Jace asked, closing the door and coming into the living room. He placed a hand on my back to steady me and once I stopped wavering, lowered me down to the couch. I flopped down and lay my head back against the cushion, trying to will the room to stop spinning so wildly.

“Mmmm. Possibly,” I mumbled, pinching my eyes closed. I’d been so engrossed in the terrible movie that I hadn’t realized how much I’d drank, but when I opened my eyes and saw the amount of empty bottles on the table, I groaned.

Jace must have noticed too, because he immediately swept them into his arms and took them to the kitchen. I heard water running and moments later, he appeared with a huge glass of ice water. After I took it, he put out his other hand and showed me two white aspirin sitting on his palm. “Have you eaten anything? Besides popcorn?” He asked, eying the mess on the carpet and the half filled bowl on the couch beside me.

I shook my head, not trusting my words to not come out in a jumbled mess if I tried to explain.

“All right,” he said, stooping down to pick up the pieces that I’d used as confetti. He didn’t ask questions as he worked to clean and ignored all my mumbled protests for him to stop, that I’d get to it tomorrow. “Stay here, keep drinking your water. I’m gonna whip something up.”

I shot him an incredulous glance, silently questioning his culinary skills. He flashed a grin and left me alone on the couch. I shifted my attention to the next movie that had started and did my best to ignore the banging and occasional cursing that was filtering out from the kitchen. At a couple different points, I was tempted to get up and go help him, but my legs were like sandbags and I also knew that if I started for the kitchen, he’d scold me and sit me back down again. A little while later, he reappeared with a plate full of spaghetti and marina sauce with a dash of Parmesan cheese crumbles on top. “This will soak up all that alcohol and leave you feeling much better,” he insisted, setting the plate down in front of me. He presented me with a fork and sat down in the chair to the left of the couch.

“Thanks,” I said, leaning forward to take a deep breath of the steam coming off the plate. I knew it was boxed pasta and sauce from a jar, but it smelled amazing and my stomach grumbled immediately. I dug into the food, trying to ignore the fact that he was sitting there watching me eat. “Really good,” I told him after a few bites.

“How are you, Kat?” Jace asked after I set the fork down.

“Well, the room stopped spinning, so that’s an improvement,” I quipped.

Jace smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Come on, you know what I mean,” he prompted.

I shrugged, my breath catching in my chest. “I can’t—uh, I’m not ready to
go there
, you know?”

He nodded slowly, processing my statement. The TV movie was chattering in the background and we both stared at the screen, our eyes glazed over, as we worked through our own thoughts for a few minutes. Jace leaned forward, bracing his arms on his thighs. “Listen, Kat, I get that you need space, and that you have a lot going on, but I want you to know that I’m here to help, no matter what you need.”

I nodded, meeting his eyes for a split second, unable to hold his intense stare. “Thanks.”

He straightened in his seat and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “I don’t really know how to say this, so I’m just gonna drop it right on you. I know things are tight, but I don’t want you to worry. I’ll pay for your lawyer, or lawyers—whatever you need. I know some sharks out in Chicago. I can call them up and see who they’d recommend—nothing but the best.”

I snapped to attention at his offer, a new heat flooding my veins that had nothing to do with the alcohol still floating around my system. “What?” I asked, my tone sharp.

“Like I said, Kat, I just want to help. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

I stood from the couch and grabbed the plate from the table. I stalked to the kitchen, happy that my legs were back in working order, and threw the contents in the sink. “Jace, I think you’re confused about something,” I said, once he appeared in the doorway. I spun to face him, crossing my arms tightly around myself. “
We
are not a team or something. Like, we fucked one time, that doesn’t mean anything. I’m a grown ass woman and I can take care of myself and my child. I don’t need your help.”

Jace’s eyes flashed and I knew my words had hit their mark. He stared at me for a moment, searching my eyes, but I threw it right back, not willing to back off. “All right, Kat. Message received.”

He turned and let himself out, and although he was gone in an instant, the sound of the front door thudding closed stayed with me for the rest of the night.

Hilda came over again the next morning, this time with two bags full of groceries and a box of doughnuts from my favorite little shop. She swatted my hands away when I tried to unload the contents of the grocery bags, and insisted I sit down and eat breakfast. I sighed and sank into one of the dining room chairs and opened the box, fishing out a cinnamon twist. I moaned at the first bite. “How on earth did you keep these warm the whole way here?” I marveled before taking the second bite, letting the sugary glaze melt on my tongue.

Hilda threw me a wink. “I cheated and zapped em in the microwave a few seconds.”

I laughed and took another bite. “Thank you, Hilda. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She finished unpacking the groceries and then sat down to join me, selecting a cherry danish for herself. “Anytime, my dear. How are you feeling? Any progress with the lawyers?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I made dozens of calls yesterday but couldn’t find anyone who could make my budget work. This morning I found a place that works on a sliding scale, so I’m meeting with them tomorrow morning, but I don’t know,” my thought trailed off as I remembered the conversation. The woman I’d spoken with, sounded competent, but the idea of taking a bargain basement lawyer to face off with Mitch’s Ivy League crew sounded like the plot for an underdog sports movie. “Even if I hire them, they won’t have any real time to prep before the mediation…”

All I could do was hope it had the same triumphant, good trumps evil, kind of ending.

“Have you talked to Jax yet?” Hilda asked, polishing off her pastry with a final bite.

Tears pricked at my eyes and I quickly sniffed them away. “I called Mitch last night but he said Jax was asleep. But it was six-thirty. Jax never goes to sleep that early…”

Hilda patted my hand. “I’m sorry, dear.”

“Thanks,” I replied with a sad smile. “I just feel so defeated, and then last night, after I got off the phone…” I glanced at Hilda, wondering how much I should tell her. “Jace came over and I was a little…well… let’s just say I was a little messed up…”