He’d never stayed at school over the weekend once football season was over. As soon as his last class on Friday had ended, he’d immediately get into his truck, having already packed the night before, and head straight home.

Though he’d never offered her the disrespect of taking advantage of her sexually—he, like her, had wanted to wait—Zack had spent most nights with Gracie, him taking the floor while she slept in the bed, and they’d talk for hours.

He’d hated that she’d be so tired the next day, struggling to get up early and get her duties done by check-in time, and so he’d often help her. The two had become a formidable team, coming up with an efficient method of cleaning the rooms spotless in twenty minutes. That made Zack happy because it meant she was his for the rest of the day.

Most high school football players’ favorite night of the week was Friday. Friday meant football and the rush of adrenaline after pulling off an impossible play. Friday was Zack’s favorite day as well, but not because of football. To him, football was a means to an end. A way for him to provide for Gracie and the children they’d one day have.

It was his favorite day because he knew that at the end of it, Gracie would be in his arms, her head pillowed against his shoulder.

Until the time he returned home to find her gone. For good.

He didn’t understand it. Maybe he’d never understand it. But he sure as hell wasn’t going to walk away without some sort of an explanation. If she didn’t need him—didn’t want him—then by God she’d look him in the eye and tell him so.

“Zack?”

Eliza’s concerned voice filtered through his thoughts and he glanced over to see that evidently she’d been talking—or rather trying to talk—to him for the past several seconds, and he was unresponsive.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Just thinking.”

“That much is evident,” she said softly. “Want to tell me about it?”

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Zack closed his eyes and sighed. “You’re going to think I’m a head case. I mean, when I stand back for a minute and truly look at the situation, if it were anyone else, I’d think they were a complete idiot. I mean who the hell stays hung up on a girl—woman—for twelve years? Jesus. It’s pathetic.”

He winced, realizing just how much he’d admitted. He blew out his breath in a long, frustrated stream. What the fuck did it matter? Eliza was going to find out anyway. He wasn’t going to hold back any information that might enable Eliza to track Gracie down, no matter how pitiful it made him look.

“I’d say someone who stays hung up on a woman for that long must have truly loved her,” Eliza said quietly.

There was no judgment in her eyes. No pity. Nothing but unwavering support and friendship.

“Yeah,” Zack murmured. “I did—do. Or at least I did. Hard to say what the fuck I’m feeling right now.”

“So tell me what happened and why you lost your shit when you saw her again in the gallery. I’m assuming that’s the first you’ve seen her since . . .”

He nodded and then sighed.

“There’s honestly not much to tell. Gracie and I were high school sweethearts. I say high school, but I was four years older than her so we only attended school together my senior year. She was a freshman when we met. I had a full ride to University of Tennessee playing football. Quarterback.”

“You played for the pros, didn’t you?”

“Until an injury took me out,” Zack said.

“You could have played still.”

Zack didn’t even respond to the fact she obviously knew his story. Or at least part of it. DSS would have done a thorough background check before hiring him on.

He nodded. “Yeah. I could have rehabbed. Missed one season at the most. Trained hard in the off-season and come back in the fall. The doctors thought I’d make a full recovery with intensive rehab.”

“But you chose not to.”

Again he nodded. The team owner, the manager and the coaches had been pissed. The fans had been pissed. He’d been labeled a quitter. A loser when for so long he’d been a winner. But without Gracie he didn’t feel like he’d won fucking anything. Football wasn’t enough to sustain him when he’d lost everything that meant anything to him. Football was only a means to provide for Gracie, for him to give her the kind of life he’d dreamed of. Without her, football didn’t mean shit.

“Because of Gracie?” she asked gently.

He hesitated a moment, then met her gaze again. “Yeah. Because of Gracie. She disappeared. One day she was there. And then I came home and she was gone. No note. No word. No message. Nothing. It was as if she’d never even existed. Only, to me she did. She was my entire fucking world. School. Football. None of it mattered if she wasn’t there to share it with me. I almost didn’t even go to the pros. My old man was apoplectic. And in the end, the only reason I did go to the pros is because I thought that if I had a high enough profile, Gracie would know where I was. That she would even contact me. Come to me if she was in trouble.”

“So you have no idea what happened to her?”

“None,” he said flatly.

“Did you report her missing? Get the police involved?”

He emitted a harsh laugh. “My father was the police. The chief of police. He didn’t lift one goddamn finger to find her. He was too busy celebrating. He fucking smiled when I told him about her disappearance. Told me it was the best news he’d heard all year. When I asked him to issue a missing person’s report and actually look into her disappearance he told me his department’s resources were much better used when not wasted on people who didn’t matter.”

Eliza frowned. “Excuse the observation but your father sounds like a real gem.”

“Don’t sugarcoat it for me,” he said, his jaw clenching. “He’s a bastard. A selfish, misogynistic chauvinist.”

“You’ll forgive me if I never go out of my way to meet him,” Eliza muttered.

Zack lifted one corner of his mouth in a half smile. “You’d kick his ass.”

“At least you fell pretty far from that tree,” she observed. “And damn right I’d kick his ass. If he pulled that bullshit with me I’d rearrange his balls for him. Now, let’s get back to Gracie. From what you’ve told me I can pretty well piece everything together. Or at least it suddenly makes sense. You get hurt. Choose to bow out instead of rehab. You enter law enforcement and go on to be recruited by a government organization until Beau stole you to our side. I assume you chose the career you did because of Gracie.”




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