Chapter 11 Jace
JACE
But there was something about the responsibility of it all. What if they got in the cockpit and screwed up because of my explanation? It was bad enough that I had crashed a very expensive piece of machinery and almost killed my WSO and myself.
I closed my eyes briefly, thinking of Monroe, who’d been on my mind and in my dreams for the last two days since our steamy night together. While I would give anything to have many more nights like that, I was finding just the thought of her kept me calm and less anxious.
An airman with big brown eyes raised his hand. “Captain Callahan, how come your training didn’t kick in to prevent the G-LOC?”
Million-dollar fucking question.
The weight of the stares from the eight males and three females occupying the seats was enough to make me bolt. But I had orders to assist Major Braun’s class while I was grounded. Still, I would rather be pulling Gs than explaining my accident.
I circled the desk to stand in front of it, scanning the anxious students waiting to hear how I fucked up.
Good times.
“First, let’s talk about the Anti-G Straining Maneuver—or AGSM, for short.” Major Braun had informed me this class was up to speed on the AGSM. “Who can explain this maneuver?”
A female student with blond hair and green eyes, reminding me too damn much of Monroe, raised her hand.
I nodded at her, reading her name on her uniform. “Teague.”
“Sir, if you feel a G-LOC about to happen, you should contract your muscles in your thighs, legs, and stomach, pushing air out of your lungs.”
“And perform rapid breathing techniques every three seconds to maintain pressure,” another student added.
“But the G-suits should help, right?” a dark-haired airman asked.
“Sure,” I said, “but there are other factors outside of all the training that can still cause you to blackout, and that is your physical conditioning. And a gravity-induced loss of consciousness sneaks up fast and doesn’t care how tough you are.
” My voice came out rough and ragged as I began pacing along the front of the room, the sound of my boots clicking against the tile.
I thought of Tate, my WSO, still in a hospital bed, a stark reminder of how I had screwed up.
“You feel that tunnel closing in, you fight like hell to stay awake.”
The door creaked open, and Major Braun stepped in, the gold oak leaves on his uniform catching the overhead light. “A word, Captain.”
I met him at the door, tucking my hands into the pockets of my flight suit. “Yes, sir.”
“When you’re finished, Lieutenant Colonel Pierce wants to see you in his office.”
The air in my lungs stuttered. “Is the verdict in on my case?” I asked, wanting to know what I was walking into.
“Couldn’t say. Just relaying the message,” Major Braun said then left as sweat coated my body.
Glancing at my watch, I spun around and cleared my throat. “All right, that’s it for today.” Class was over in five minutes anyway, and I had to compose myself before seeing Pierce.
Chairs scraped the floor, voices rose, and the room emptied until the only sound was my pulse in my ears.
Grabbing the flight binder, I opened the cabinet and placed it inside, ignoring the tight pull in my shoulder, which was a reminder that even if the medical review board gave me the thumbs-up to fly again, I had to wait until the flight surgeon cleared me from my shoulder injury.
Fifteen minutes later, after a trek across the base to the medical building, I hung around outside the double doors and texted Monroe.
At nine in the morning, she was probably explaining an algebra problem.
I would give anything to see her right now.
To feel her lips on mine. To inhale her lilac scent.
Me: I’m thinking about you. Any time to sneak in a visit before Friday’s football game?
My finger hovered over the send button while I debated whether I sounded desperate. After a beat, I hit Send, not caring either way. When I wanted something, I went after it, and I wanted Monroe in my life, in my bed, in my soul.
Part of me was questioning my sanity about why I was falling for her. But love didn’t have a timeline. My mom had drilled that into me. “Love at first sight exists, Jace,” she’d said. “That’s what happened with your father and me.”
But I couldn’t drag Monroe into a life that wasn’t stable. Or ask her to follow me from one duty station to the next. She had a life in Pine Valley. A son in high school.
That’s not for you to decide, dude, my inner voice supplied.
Voices coming out of the building snapped me out of my thoughts. Pocketing my phone, I walked in and took the stairs to the second floor where Pierce’s office was located.
I paused outside his office, straightened my flight suit, and knocked.
“Enter.”
I pushed in the door, and my heart damn near stopped.
Tate stood behind the two chairs in front of Pierce’s desk, bracing himself on a cane.
For a second, I forgot to breathe. I hadn’t seen him since the morning of Career Day before I’d left for Pine Valley High. That was when he’d told me he could wiggle his toes.
“You gonna stand there, Blitz, like a zombie? Or am I going to have to save your ass again?” His voice cracked with humor as he ran his free hand through his red hair.
“You’re always saving my ass, Frost,” I said, using his call sign, crossing the room in two strides. Then I examined him from head to toe. “Holy shit. You’re standing.”
“Walking too. Lieutenant Colonel says that I’ll be back in the navigator’s seat within two months once the inflammation in my spine is gone.”
I’d never heard better news.
Tate chuckled. “You’re pissing your pants right now, Blitz.”
“All because of you, man.” I cared about flying again, but at that moment, I was soaring into outer space that my good friend and WSO was upright, walking, and not in the least pissed at me for almost ending his life.
“Now that the reunion is over,” Pierce said, “I have the results from the medical board, Jace.”
I swallowed thickly. “Good news, I hope.”
Pierce’s expression was blank. “Tate, you can take your leave while I have a word with Jace.”
“Tate can stay,” I said. “As my WSO, he should know what happens to me.” Tate and I were a team, and we had each other’s backs.
“Agreed.” Pierce waved his hand to the two chairs. “But I needed your consent.”
Once Tate and I were seated, Pierce flipped a few pages in my file then rested his forearms on his desk, his brown eyes level as he began.
“Callahan, your blood work came back mostly clean. Electrolytes normal, heart rhythm steady, neuro scans clear. But… you had a slightly low white-cell count, which could’ve been a minor viral bug.
In addition, dehydration could’ve also been a factor. ”
The tightness in my chest loosened once more. All good news. Tate was walking. And I didn’t have anything serious, like a neurological problem.
Pierce leaned back in his chair. “The board agrees you’re fit for flight, pending the centrifuge test. But before we even schedule one, I would like to do an MRI on your shoulder. Needless to say, I wasn’t happy when I read your recent medical report.”
“Always searching for the next adrenaline fix,” Tate mumbled. “It’s so Callahan.”
Pierce’s expression turned sour. “If I find out that you’re rock climbing or doing anything to jeopardize your chances of getting in that cockpit, I’ll ground you no matter what the medical board says. Are we clear, Callahan?”
“Crystal, sir.”
I had a better way to feed my adrenaline junkie side, and her name was Monroe.
“I’ll put the order in for the MRI.” Then he turned to Tate. “Since your inflammation is subsiding, I want you in physical therapy every day. I suspect you won’t be using the cane by next week.”
“Hallelujah,” Tate said. “I’m ready to get back to work.”
“Good to hear,” Pierce said. “Now, you’re both dismissed.”
Tate and I exchanged a one-arm hug as soon as we were out of Pierce’s office.
“When were you going to tell me you were walking?” I asked.
“When I saw you.” His grin widened like he couldn’t believe he was on two feet. “Where the hell have you been hiding?” His light-blue eyes cut right through me.
“Sorry, man.” I’d been apologizing to him every time I saw him. “Lawson assigned me to Career Day at Pine Valley High, and now, I’m teaching Major Braun’s F-15 class.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “And… I met someone.”
He slapped me on the back. “No shit. Is it the blond lady you told me about from Devil’s Hollow?”
I bobbed my head, grinning like a lovestruck bastard. “I’ve never met anyone like her.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Jace Callahan, have you fallen?”
“Pretty fucking close.”
His jaw came unhinged. “No shit. I’m happy for you, and I can’t wait to meet her. But if you don’t mind me asking… Never mind. I should get to therapy.”
“Dude, spill it. Since when do you hold back?”
“I don’t want to rain on your parade, but once we’re cleared to fly, don’t we have orders to Germany?”
The air shifted—colder, heavier—as my grin slipped. “So?”
He dragged a hand along his jaw. “Blitz, one reason you never put roots down was the volatility of your career. Is your lady friend okay with that?”
Leave it to Tate to remind me of my promises.
“Her name is Monroe,” I said, chewing on the inside of my cheek. “And I need to pass the centrifuge test before we’re wheels up, and you need to be cleared as well.” All that to say I had time with Monroe.
Regardless of a relationship or if I was falling, I had a career, as did she. I wouldn’t ask her to give up teaching, and I was damn sure she wouldn’t want me to give up the military.
But the more I stood there as Tate went on about me passing my centrifuge test, duty was pulling me one way and desire in the other.
Still, flying was my purpose, but Monroe was becoming my peace, and I wasn’t sure I could survive losing either one.