Time of Possession (Seattle Lumberjacks #5) (30 page)

“Where’s Estie?”

The Harrises looked at each other. Like the
tight-knit family that they were, none of them said a word, as if
they were protecting her, but from who? Surely not him.

Desperate panic welled inside Brett. Had an
angry fan injured her? Had she gotten suddenly ill? Did she have a
change of heart and run away?

“Where is she? Did something happen to her?”
His voice cracked from fear. He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants
and looked at each one of them. None of them would meet his
gaze.

Finally, Tyler set his jaw and stepped
forward. Tyler grabbed Brett’s arm. “Come on, man. Everything is
fine. Trust me. Let’s enjoy the celebration. This is your
moment.”

Brett swallowed and glanced at her mother
and sister. They flashed brilliant smiles at him, despite something
hidden in the depths of those smiles. Before Brett could ask any
more questions, he was sucked into the vortex that was the
post-Super Bowl hoopla.

HughJack stood on the podium as did Veronica
and her father, the team owner. No way in hell was Brett going up
there without Tyler. Putting a vice grip on an unusually reluctant
Harris, he mounted the crowded podium along with Zach, their
defensive captain.

The commissioner made his presentation of
the trophy, and Mr. Simms held it up for all to see to the cheers
of the fans and the teammates crowded around. Brett, still
wondering about Estie, forced his thoughts of her to the back of
his mind. He needed to live in this moment. This was his time, he
earned it, and he was damn well going to enjoy it.

Zach spoke next, wiping tears from his eyes.
He held Kelsie close to him, and she clutched his arm, gazing up at
him with utter devotion. Brett shoved away a twinge of
jealousy.

Zach hoisted the trophy over his head.
“Almost two years ago I signed with the Jacks, my last chance at a
ring after thirteen years in the league. I’d earned every accolade
known to a professional football player, except for that ring.
Well, now I have it. I want to thank the love of my life for being
by my side, Tyler Harris for never letting me lose faith and
kicking me in the butt when I needed it, and Brett Gunnels for
stepping in and finishing what Tyler started. And to all my
teammates, offense and defense. We’re a team, and when we walked
onto that field we left our egos behind us.” Zach choked up and
shoved the trophy in Tyler’s arms.

Harris hefted it just as he’d done twice
before. “I’m going to make this short and sweet. This was a team
effort, and I’m proud to have played a part in it, but the guy we
really need to thank is a quarterback who battled the odds and the
doubters. He stands before us today as a world champion.”

The crowd cheered and Brett grasped the
trophy in his hands, relishing the feel of the cold, smooth metal,
one of the best feelings in his life. He refused the mic, not
trusting himself to talk, especially with half the world watching,
but Harris didn’t give a shit. He grabbed the trophy and forced the
mic into Brett’s face.

Brett looked out at the jubilant faces of
his teammates and coaches, their friends and family. In his
happiest moment, a profound feeling of being alone slammed into
him. He rejected the negative and spoke from his heart.

“When Ty went down, I know a lot of people
didn’t have faith in me. Hell, I didn’t have faith in myself. There
were two people who thought I could do this. Tyler, because in his
world failure is not an option. He stood by me, worked my butt off,
and made sure sleeping came second as we watched game film night
after night. Thank you, Tyler. And thank you to a special someone
who said the only thing standing between me and a ring is my lack
of confidence. We worked on the confidence and Tyler worked on my
game. My teammates never wavered in their support. I’m still amazed
I’m standing here tonight. Thank you to my coaches, my teammates,
and my friends for never giving up on me. We did it, guys, and we
did it as a team. Go Jacks!” Holding the trophy in both hands, he
pumped it in the air.

The crowd roared and Brett passed the trophy
off.

He stepped off the podium into the mass of
people. Smoke from the fireworks cast a haze over the field and the
smell hung in the cool air. A sliver of panic ran through him. He
stared at the sea of faces, flashed back to a moment of pure chaos
in a sandlot faraway, the red of blood, the screams of comrades,
the scent of smoke.

Reporters and microphones whirled in front
of his face with dizzying speed. Sweat ran down his face into his
eyes, half blinding him. From nowhere Harris and Zach emerged,
flanking both sides of him. Brett gripped their arms with a
strength that would’ve brought lesser men to their knees.

“You’re all right. You’re with buddies,
Gun.” Harris spoke in his ear for only him to hear. He slung his
arm across Brett’s shoulders while Zach ran interference and
answered questions.

Brett nodded, gaining confidence from his
friends’ calm presence. Slowly his wild ride stopping spinning and
let him off.

He tried his voice, and it worked, even if
it sounded a little choked up, but everyone expected that after
having won the Super Bowl.

He could do this, just like he’d won the
Super Bowl. Brett tolerated interview after interview, answering
the same questions over and over, all the while looking for
Estie.

Brett did not want to spend the best day of
his life without the best thing that ever happened to him. Yet,
she’d left him. Just like that. When he needed her by his side the
most.

Her absence told him more than words ever
could.

* * * * *

Estie didn’t go down on the field after the
game. Part of her had wanted to share this moment at his side, and
part of her insisted she needed to keep her distance, stick with
the plan to let him make his decisions before she went to him.

She’d stood in place among the celebration
in the stands and then she’d panicked. Yes, she’d panicked. Not
because she was committed to giving him the space he needed for his
career, but because of something completely unrelated. Brett’s
world could never be planned out, reduced to a spreadsheet,
organized to the
n
th degree because Brett’s life was about
winning and losing. Outcomes no one could control. Not her. Not
Brett. No one.

As she watched him celebrate on the field,
she feared he didn’t need her, not like she needed him. She’d
always been independent and in charge of her life. With him she was
vulnerable.

She couldn’t deal with that.

At least, not at this point in her life. Too
much had happened. She craved order. He embraced chaos and tried to
tame it.

It’d been a mistake coming here.

With despair clutching her heart, Estie
shuffled out of the stadium, jostled by partying fans and oblivious
to the mayhem around her, desperate to get back to a world she
could bend to her will.

Chapter 19

Brett stood in the empty living room and
glanced around. Everything was moved out except for Bongo and his
cage. The poor bird missed Estie so much that he’d gone into a deep
depression so Brett took him everywhere he could, including the
final packing day in his apartment.

The door opened, and Brett’s heart rate
spiked. For a split second, he expected Estie, who’d been
conspicuously avoiding him since the game. Only his guest wasn’t
Estie, and he couldn’t be more shocked. “Dad.”

“Brett.” Jerry Gunnels stood in the doorway
wearing a tentative smile.

“Fuck you!” Bongo screeched from his cage,
ringing his little bell with his foot.

Brett’s father’s eyes grew big.

“That’s my parrot. He’s got a bit of a
problem with his mouth.”

“I see.”

Brett doubted his father did.

“Aren’t you going to invite your old man
in?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.”

Brett stood back and followed his father
into his humble apartment.

“I expected something grander for a pro
football player.” Jerry turned around, taking in the place, mostly
empty but for a few boxes. “Looks like you’re moving out.”

Brett nodded. “You’re lucky you caught me
here. I just came by to get the last of my things and take them to
storage.”

“You have any coffee?”

“I have a thermos with some Tully’s but only
one mug.” Brett washed out his mug while his father stood at the
counter. The man was making him nervous the way he was staring at
him.

“I watched your game, you know.”

Brett jumped, surprised the man had talked
after being quiet so long. He said nothing, not knowing what to
say. Instead, he braced himself for the inevitable criticism and
berating so commonplace from his father.

“You surprised me. Really surprised me.”

Brett still said nothing.

His father swallowed and stared at his
hands. They were shaking. “Brett, I was wrong about you. So
wrong.”

“Yeah, sure.” He hated the sarcasm in his
voice but his father deserved it.

“You’re a damn good football player.”

Brett waited for the
but
yet there
wasn’t one. “You came here to tell me that.”

“No, I came here to tell you that you’re an
even better man, a far better man than I’ll ever be. Maybe I don’t
have the right to say this, but I’ll say it anyway, I’m damn proud
of you.”

“Is that all you wanted?” Brett couldn’t let
go of the years of frustration, of feeling like a failure because
of this man. The anger and hurt blocked his ability to let him off
easy, even if he wanted to do just that. He’d waited years to hear
those words from his father. Now he wasn’t sure they mattered.

“Maybe I don’t deserve it, but I’d also like
your forgiveness.”

Brett clenched his jaw, not sure he could
give it. “Why? Because I’m on the verge of being a millionaire with
a fat contract, and you’re my only relatives? Are you hoping to
cash in on that?” They were cruel words, and he lashed out, hurting
his father like the old man had hurt him.

“No, Brett, I don’t want a penny of your
money.” At the despair in his father’s voice Brett glanced up and
was shocked at what he saw. His strong, uncompromising father
looked broken, beaten, and very, very old. His shoulders slumped
and he wrapped his hands around the coffee cup as if it were his
lifeline.

“What the fuck do you want?” Brett’s resolve
slipped an inch or two.

“You. You to be part of our family. I know
I’m not an easy guy to get along with. I know I’ve been hard on
you, but I’ve always loved you.”

In all the years his father had never said
those words, not to any of his kids, not even to his wife. The
anger inside of Brett splintered like a windshield after a rock
hits it, and he held onto the remnants even though they punched
holes in his bitter outer layer.

With a heavy sigh, his father stood and
walked to the door. “I was wrong to come here, wrong to expect I
could wipe out years of hurt in a short hour. Wrong. I’m sorry,
son. I’m sorry.”

Jerry Gunnels walked out the door. Brett
stood in the doorway, his feet rooted to the floor until the extent
of the loneliness engulfed and overwhelmed him. He ran to the car
just as his father reached for the door.

His father turned, and they both froze. The
next thing Brett knew, they were hugging each other.

Brett didn’t feel quite so alone
anymore.

Chapter 20

Estie stood on the deck and waited. Brett
hesitated at the bottom of the stairs. He looked up at her, squared
his shoulders, and smiled a sad, heart-wrenching smile. Estie felt
sick to her stomach as he walked up the deck stairs. She swallowed
and blinked hard at the tears welling in her eyes. Brett stopped a
few feet from her.

“Here are the keys.” He held the ring of
keys out to her, dangling on his index finger. She stared at them
but didn’t take them, as if not taking them could prolong the
inevitable.

Estie wrung her hands together. “So you’re
all moved out?”

“Completely.” He tried another lopsided
smile, but it crashed and burned, turning into a grim frown.

“Then I guess that’s it.” She met his pale
blue gaze for the last time and saw it all in his eyes, all the
regrets and hurt, but also the good times, the laughter, the
passion. Everything.

“Yeah, that’s it.” He jingled the keys to
catch her attention, and she snatched them from his hand, shoving
them in her jeans pocket.

“No regrets?” She had regrets. Plenty. But
none of them had a damn thing to do with the time she’d spent with
this man. She’d never forget him.

“None. Not a one.” He gazed into her eyes,
as if expecting something, but she didn’t know what.

“Me neither.” Except that they were parting
ways, which was a big fucking regret.

“Do you know which team you’re going to?”
Estie steered the conversation to a safe topic before it got into
all those unsafe personal topics.

“Not sure yet, but it’s hard to beat what
Miami is offering.”

Estie nodded slowly. “I’ll miss you and the
kids.”

“Yeah, me too.” He reached down and stroked
Marilyn, who’d come out of the house to flirt with him. Even Dozer
got up from his bed and leaned against him, licking his hand. Spock
sat in the doorway, watching it all with an unreadable expression,
while Jim licked his butt.

Their eyes met and held, and the longing in
his eyes destroyed Estie’s resolve to keep a distance. She moved
toward him and into his arms as if it were the most natural thing
in the world. They clung to each other way too long, and too many
emotions battered at her convictions that she’d made the right
choice for both of them.

Brett pushed her gently out of his arms.
“I’m glad you’re following your dreams.”