Chapter 2 Jace
JACE
The base clinic smelled like antiseptic and disappointment. I’d been here too often lately and not for anything heroic, just petty shit like rock climbing injuries, checkups, blood draws, and the damn incident report that refused to die in the system.
Fucking G-LOC.
The word alone dragged me back.
The roar of the engines. The crush of Gs. The world narrowing to a tunnel.
“Pull up, Blitz!” Tate’s voice had cut through the static, sharp and panicked but too late.
Then everything funneled into black.
Groggy and disoriented, I came to under the parachute canopy, lungs burning, the sky spinning. Smoke smeared the horizon over the Ridgeway training range, which was miles of open field and nothing else until I spotted Tate. His chute drifted lower, too fast, too wrong.
A sharp pain drew me out of hell. “Fuck.” I blinked hard. “Easy, Doc.”
“I lost you for a second,” Dr. Hollis said as she lightly felt the area around my bruised shoulder. “You didn’t hear a word I said. Care to tell me if the G-LOC incident is still affecting you?”
“Absolutely not,” I lied. “Medical tests were fine. The flight surgeon thinks I was probably severely dehydrated before that training maneuver. But my case is still under review.”
Until the board cleared me, I couldn’t do a damn thing that involved flying. For now, I was stuck running whatever errands my flight commander needed.
She skimmed her tablet. “Right, the flight surgeon’s note says hydration and fatigue are listed as possible contributors. I understand you logged quite a lot of flying time that week.”
“You know as well as I do that I don’t have control over my schedule.”
She set her tablet on the counter. “Regardless, you need to stay hydrated and get some rest while you’re grounded.
A low immune system can compromise your ability to fly.
And as far as your shoulder, it’s only a minor deltoid sprain.
No heavy lifting or rock climbing until you’re cleared by me or your flight surgeon. ”
I wasn’t one to keep still. “Do you want me to take up a knitting class?”
She half smiled, snapping off her gloves. “I do need a new scarf for the winter.”
I chuckled. “Seriously, Dana, I need something to do in my off-duty hours. I’ve been going nuts for the last two weeks since the incident.”
I called her by her first name, and only because she and I rock climbed together when our schedules warranted it.
“Save it, Blitz.” Her tone was dry as her eyes softened with amusement. “You’ve got a reputation for charging headfirst into everything, but you’re not bulletproof. Sit still for once.”
I smirked. Blitz? The call sign had followed me from the football field to the cockpit, a reminder that I only had one speed.
Fast. Reckless. All in. And right now, it was killing me to hit pause.
If I couldn’t rock climb, then what the hell was I supposed to do?
Tate, who was still laid up in the hospital, was getting sick of me dropping by every day.
He didn’t blame me, but I sure as fuck blamed myself for his injury.
She threw her gloves into the trash. “I hear Coach Perry at Pine Valley High needs an assistant coach. Maybe you could volunteer in your free time. You played in high school, if I remember correctly.”
Captain Dana Hollis, sandy-blond hair always tied into a tight bun, treated a lot of the students from the high school and elementary school in Pine Valley. Most kids were military brats just like Dr. Hollis.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
She picked up her tablet again and typed a few notes. “I’ll send this report over to the flight surgeon. He’ll update your medical file. They’ll want it on record while the review board finishes their evaluation.”
Swear words fired off in my head. But I couldn’t argue with protocol, and I certainly couldn’t buck the system.
My blackout wasn’t anything to sneeze at.
Still, Lieutenant Colonel Pierce would probably add another year to my do-not-fly status when he found out I’d busted my shoulder rock climbing.
The flight surgeon didn’t tolerate risk, especially after my G-LOC incident.
She gave me her full attention, concern washing over her. “And Jace… if anything new crops up—flu, sinus infection, anything that messes with oxygen flow—report it.” Her tone softened into that professional caution I’d learned to recognize.
I sat there while she wrapped the sling around my shoulder. “Wear this. It should help. And no rock climbing.”
I wanted to protest like a whiny kid. Rock climbing felt like the closest thing to flying I had left.
The risk, the adrenaline rush. Though none of that had been enough.
Even when my body was beating the side of the cliff, all I could think about was what if I blacked out? What if I fell to my death?
She gathered her tablet. “Now, go home and relax.”
Home? Officer’s quarters were anything but, and on top of that, the small space felt suffocating. But today, I knew just the spot to kick back.
So I left medical with my shoulder aching and my sense of pride nonexistent. I couldn’t shake the thought that my life was grounded and sidelined with no sense of purpose anymore. At least up in the sky, I was protecting the country, feeling like I belonged to something bigger than myself.
Stop brooding for once. So you’ve had a couple of bad hits. Learn from them. Do something with both feet on the ground for once.
Maybe I could help out the coach at Pine Valley High. I loved football. I played in high school and college until a knee injury cut short my dream of pro football.
I was heading toward the hangar when I bumped into my flight commander, Major Lawson.
“Callahan.” His gray eyes flicked to the sling on my arm then back to my face. “You planning to tell me, or should I read about it in your medical report?”
The word fuck blared in my head.
I exhaled. “Minor shoulder strain from off-duty rock climbing. It’s nothing.” The sling I was wearing would come off shortly.
Lawson’s sharp jaw flexed. “Are you trying to stay grounded?” He held up his hand. “Don’t answer that. But since I have your attention, I want to remind you about career day at Pine Valley High this Tuesday.”
I nodded. “It’s on my calendar.”
Though the last thing I wanted to do was spend the day hobnobbing with high school kids. But come to think of it, I could talk to the football coach while I was there.
“Good,” he said. “Shaping our youth is important. And if I were you, I would rethink your off-duty activities if you want to get back up there.” He pointed to the clear blue sky. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an appointment to get to.”
I watched Lawson disappear inside medical, his words sticking in my brain.
Of course I wanted to fly again. I’d experienced a G-LOC before, but that was during my training days in a centrifuge environment, not in the sky and sure as fuck not injuring someone else because of my actions.
My gut hurt just thinking that Tate might not fly again.
But I was praying like a motherfucker he would.
For the time being I had to concentrate on anything but the damn G-LOC, or I would go ballistic. I slipped on my sunglasses and headed toward the hangar. As I did, that woman, Monroe, at Devil’s Hollow came to mind.
Feisty as hell, beautiful as fuck, and her siren voice had done things to me that no woman had in ages.
But the one thing that had me thinking about her last night was how she’d called me out for my recklessness.
I loved a woman who spoke her mind. On top of that, she reminded me of sunshine and brightness that seemed to burn away the dark cloud hanging over my head.
I grinned, recalling the banter between us.
“Are you calling me a cockroach, Sunshine?”
“If the shoe fits.”
I laughed out loud as I approached the hangar, wondering how I could find Monroe. Maybe she was what I needed to quiet the noise.
Pine Valley was a small town, and I hadn’t gotten the vibe Monroe or her friend Lila were tourists.
The hangar smelled like jet fuel, stale coffee, and the kind of grease that never washed out. Dax was sitting in one of the folding chairs, alone and watching the football game on the flat screen.
“Where is everyone?” I asked, sauntering over to him.
Normally on a Sunday afternoon, the hangar was alive with a camaraderie between fighter pilots, aircraft maintenance, and pararescue teams, boasting about their favorite football teams.
Dax was assigned to the latter as Rescue Specialist, and he was a good one at that.
He straightened in his seat and tossed a foam football at me in the open space. “It’s still early, and some folks have family obligations, and others might be on duty.”
I caught it with my good arm, but my injured one still protested. “Huh. That’s not going to go over well with Lawson.”
His brown gaze landed on my sling.
I tore off the bandage as I sat beside him and kicked out my legs. “He already gave me the rundown.”
“Eek. I guess no more adrenaline fixes for you.”
“Fuck no. If I want to keep my wings, I have to toe the line.” I watched the Broncos score a touchdown. “Do you want to go into town later for a drink? I wouldn’t mind asking around about Monroe.”
He snorted. “You’re still high on her. I can’t blame you. She’s certainly a looker with that blond hair, green eyes. And did you see her toned legs through her leggings?” He whistled.
I had seen more than that. Green eyes that would tempt a saint. Pouty lips that conjured up every sex position I could think of.
“I’m up for the Rusty Spur,” he said. “Provided I don’t get called in for an emergency.”
I probably shouldn’t be so desperate to track down Monroe. I should concentrate more on getting back into the cockpit than finding my next hookup. If I couldn’t fly anymore, I wasn’t sure who the fuck I would be.
But she was cutting through my psyche like a rescue rope, and I was desperate to feel that same rush I had the first time I’d laid eyes on her. It felt like I was flying again. As crazy as that sounded, she might be my only salvation. And that scared the hell out of me.