Safe at Last (Slow Burn 3)

“Shit happens to the best of us,” she said ruefully. “What separates the weak from the strong is what they do with the shit once it falls.”

Zack leaned forward, framing her face in his hands before kissing her forehead.

“Thank you. I needed to hear that tonight.”

As he slid from the bar stool, she frowned. “You need a ride home? How much have you had to drink?”

He smiled at the chiding tone of her voice. Yes, she was beautiful, fun, smart and witty, but she felt more like a sister than a lover. Why couldn’t he be attracted to her? Sexually. It sure as hell would uncomplicate a hell of a lot of things for him right now. But then none of his previous sexual encounters could hardly be considered a matter of attraction beyond simple lust and a brief moment of blowing off steam.

If he was attracted to Tonya, or rather felt more than the affection one felt toward a sibling or good friend, then it would mean a more serious relationship, because she deserved that. For that matter all the women he’d been with deserved better than he’d given them, but at least he hadn’t lied or misled them in any manner and both parties had gone in knowing the score. He wasn’t that much of a bastard.

But Tonya? Despite her spiel about not wanting marriage and commitment—and he believed her because she was inherently honest and refreshingly straightforward—she was the bring-home-to-meet-the-family type woman.

“I’ve had exactly one and one-fourth beers. I’m good. Want to test my blood alcohol?” he teased.

She rolled her eyes. “Okay. You get a pass. I just don’t want you in my ER when I’m off duty. So be careful.”

“I will. And Tonya, thanks. I mean that.”

“Anything for a friend.”

“I’m going to take off and get some rest. Been a shitty day. Ready for it to be over and start over again tomorrow. And hope to hell it’s not a repeat of today.”

She saluted him with her beer bottle as he gave her another hug and then headed for the door.

The cooler air was welcome after the suffocating interior of the bar, and it also served as a wake-up call from the maudlin direction his thoughts had taken over the last hour.

He slid behind the wheel of his truck and paused before cranking the engine. He hadn’t lied. Today had been epic on the shit scale. Rivaled by very few other events in his life. And maybe that’s why it had hit him so hard.

Losing Gracie. Not knowing how or why. That was the most difficult thing to swallow. And he still hadn’t gotten over it.

His old man had been furious with him because Zack had seriously considered not even entering the draft his senior year of college after a stellar four years as starting quarterback for the University of Tennessee. But his head and heart hadn’t been in it. How could it be? If the one person he wanted most to share his dream with was gone—disappeared without a goddamn trace, leaving him to think the absolute worst—then what was the point?

His father had railed at him that he was throwing his life away over white trailer park trash who wasn’t worth his time. He’d never liked Gracie. Disliked was too mild a term. He despised her. The one and only time he’d brought Gracie to his home to meet his father, the bastard had humiliated her by calling her white trash and making it all too evident that she had no place in Zack’s life, his priorities and that she wasn’t good enough and would never amount to anything.

He’d never taken her back there. And it had forever caused a rift between him and his father. One that hadn’t been repaired to this day.

After her disappearance, he’d gone to his father. Asked for his help. It was his father’s goddamn job as chief of police to protect the citizens of his town. His father had laughed. The asshole had actually laughed and celebrated the fact that she was out of the picture. He hadn’t lifted a goddamn finger to investigate her disappearance.

And then when Zack had hesitated to enter the draft because he feared above all else that she would return and he wouldn’t be there, that it would appear he’d simply given up on her, abandoned her, his father had lost his shit.

Only his friends talking him down and assuring him that if Gracie did return they’d sit on her and let him know gave him the impetus to pursue his dream of playing in the pros, something he’d never imagined doing without Gracie at his side.

They were going to be married. Have a big family. He’d play in the pros ten years, bank enough money so his family would be financially secure and then retire so he could devote all his time to his wife and children.

The first two seasons, he’d led a previously struggling, bottom-rung team to the playoffs. He’d been heralded as saving the franchise and putting it back on the map. Making it relevant. And then a bad hit sustained while he was making the game-winning touchdown pass had resulted in a torn rotator cuff, which had taken him out of pro football after only two seasons.

It didn’t signal the end of his career but he was at a crossroads. He had two options. Undergo extensive rehab in the off-season, work his ass off and come back. Or take the guaranteed signing money from his contract and simply walk away.

He’d chosen the latter.

He could have rehabbed. He could have gone back and likely played for many more years. But instead, he’d joined law enforcement, because Gracie was still uppermost in his mind, and he couldn’t give up the idea that one day he’d find her. Or at least find out what happened to her.

His father was enraged. Apoplectic. Told him that if he’d had his goddamn head in the game in the first place, instead of being so hung up on worthless white trash, he’d have never taken that hit in the first place. And that he was ruining his entire future for a woman. His father was a misogynist pig who couldn’t imagine sacrificing anything for a female. Especially a career that would make him millions.

As a child Zack resented his mother for bailing on him and his dad, but as he’d grown older, he understood. How could any woman live with a man like his father? His only source of blame or anger was that she’d left him with a man who was clearly a self-centered, egotistical asshole.

So he chose a career that gave him access—opportunities—and channels that enabled him to be more proactive in his search for Gracie. And after that last confrontation with his father, he had never gone back home. There was simply nothing for him there, and every time a body would be found, he’d die a thousand deaths wondering if it could be Gracie. It was simply too painful to go back to a place that was so integral, such an important part of his life, his past. Where he and Gracie met, fell in love and shared their hopes and dreams for the future.