Into the Dark (27 page)

“You shouldn’t be here,” she said. “Patrol’s watching.”

“I won’t stay long.”

“I should run away and hide. Maybe he’ll eventually stop looking.”

“He won’t. He’ll just find another way to get to you. And you’re not going to pull away from everyone who cares about you.”

“That’s exactly what I should do, Nathan. He’s killed once.” Her small hand flew to her mouth. “He killed my mother. What’s to stop him from going after someone else?”

“He murdered your mother because of her abuse. In his twisted mind, he believes he’s making your life better. No one else is in danger.”

“You don’t know that. If he sees someone as an obstacle…if something happened to any of you…”

“It’s not going to.”

“I’m putting Jeremy’s family at so much risk. What if the Taker just decides to break in and kidnap me? Jeremy’s kids—I can’t risk their lives.”

She had a point. The Taker had been patient so far, but he was escalating. How long would he wait?

“Talk to Jeremy about getting Sarah and the kids out of the house for a couple of weeks.”

“That’s not fair to them.”

“This isn’t about being fair. It’s about saving your life. You’ve got to stop worrying about everyone else and focus on you.”

“I did that with Claire, and look where it got her.” Emilie jumped to her feet. “She’s dead. He killed her because of me.” Her voice rose. “
I
killed her. I killed my mother.”

Emilie buried her face in her hands and began to sob. “I hated her, and now she’s dead. Do I even have the right to mourn her? Should I go on like she meant nothing? What am I supposed to do?”

Nathan stood and gently pulled Emilie’s hands away from her face. “Look at me.”

She obeyed, grabbing his T-shirt with trembling hands. Tears dripped off her long lashes and rolled down her pale cheeks.

“She was your mother. No matter what happened between the two of you, she gave you life. And somewhere in your heart, you cared for her. Now she’s gone, and you blame yourself. It’s not your fault, but I understand. God, do I understand.”

“You couldn’t possibly.”

Nathan sucked in a deep breath. It was time for Emilie to hear the whole story. “I told you my Uncle Jimmy died because of me.” He flinched at hearing the words spoken out loud. “When I was fourteen, there was a string of robberies and assaults in the North Las Vegas. A curfew was imposed for anyone under eighteen.

“I screwed up one night. Curfew had come and gone, and I had to be home. I called my sister to tell her I was walking home. Dad was working late. Kelsi called Uncle Jimmy to come get me.

“I took the same route home as always. It was really dark, pouring down rain. A block from the house, I got jumped by two guys. They were older and bigger than I was. They wanted money. I had four dollars in my pocket.”

A burning ache shot through his throat. “They had me on the ground, kicking me, when Jimmy found us. Jimmy was a big guy, too—as tall as I am, and thicker, more muscular. But they had a knife.”

“I’m so sorry.” She touched her warm fingers to his jaw.

“I’ve spent years blaming myself, just like you’re doing. I’ve asked myself what I could have done differently a thousand times. You’re going to do the same thing. You’ll question every decision to see if there was any way you could have prevented your mother’s death.”

Fourteen years Nathan had punished himself. But he was wrong. Nathan hadn’t jammed the knife into Jimmy’s gut. Nathan and Jimmy had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Just like Claire. She’d come to Vegas for selfish reasons and wound up a gruesome token of the Taker’s affection. That was no one’s fault but the Taker’s.

Nathan brushed her hair back and gently took her face in his hands. “Sometimes things are set in motion we can’t control. We can only respond to the immediate situation in the best way we know how. The Taker made his choice, not you.”

“It doesn’t feel that way.”

“I know. But it’s true.”

“You didn’t kill Jimmy, either.”

“No, I didn’t.” Nathan could finally accept those words.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“I know.”

She choked back a sob. “What do I do now?”

“Whatever you need to do. Cry, get angry, mourn her. Talk to your stepfather.”

“I don’t know if I can go to the funeral.”

Nathan wished she would. Getting out of the state might be the safest thing for Emilie. “Don’t worry about that right now. There’s plenty of time for that.”

“Speaking of time, you should probably go.” Emilie rested her forehead against his chest. His heart sped up at the contact. “I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“I’m not ready to leave you.” He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her close.

“Me, either.”

“Promise me you’ll stay safe. Let Jeremy play chauffeur. If he can’t, call me.”

“Jeremy can take me. You have to be careful.”

“Not for long.”

“You’re the only good thing to come out of this mess. If not for the Taker, we would have never met.”

“Maybe fate would have brought us together in another way.” Nathan’s heart hammered against his chest as Emilie edged closer, her eyes boring into his.

“Do you believe in fate?” Her lips were only an inch away.

“I’m starting to.”

Emilie seized his shirt and pulled his face down to meet hers. “Me too,” she whispered just before their lips met.

Heat erupted inside Nathan as his mouth moved with hers. Need raced through him. He wound his fingers through her thick hair, moaning as Emilie’s arms wrapped around his shoulders.

The Taker had to be caught, and soon.

Chapter Thirty

After a hot shower and allowing Jeremy and Sarah to fawn over her, Emilie settled into the guest room’s plush window seat to watch the fading sunset. Bordered by a throng of desert willows, the Vance’s backyard was a safe haven. The peaceful landscape calmed her shattered nerves.

Otis hopped onto the seat and crawled into her lap.

“You always know when I need you.” Emilie scratched the top of his head. “I wish my life could be as simple as yours. All you’ve got to worry about is who’s going to feed you and change your litter. And you get to sleep most of the day.”

Sleep sounded like the perfect solution. She’d be safe from the Taker’s stalking eyes, and no one else would be at risk.

But that wasn’t true. The Taker would come for her eventually. Nathan was right.

She brushed her fingers against her lips, remembering the kiss. Emilie had never felt so emboldened or content. Kissing Nathan had been like waking up. For the first time, Emilie felt alive, impulsive. And she wanted to do it again.

Her cellphone rang. She knew it was Sam calling. She didn’t want to talk to him again. Telling him about Claire’s murder had been enough.

“Hi, Sam.”

“How ya holding up, kid?” Sam’s voice was missing its usual luster.

“Fine. What about you?”

“Haven’t gone home yet.”

“Sam, it’s past ten. You need to go home and rest.”

“Not sure I can.” He breathed deeply. Emilie realized he was trying not to cry. “We’ve lived separate lives for years. Ever since you left, really, but knowing she’s never coming back…I just can’t walk into that house right now.”

“I’m so sorry. The Taker killed her for me.”

“She shouldn’t have been in Vegas.”

“Did you know why she came?”

“Not until after she left. Claire gave me this song and dance about burying the hatchet between you two.” He grunted, and then laughed. “I wasn’t sure I believed her, but I thought maybe nearly losing you had woken her up. Then I discovered the bank withdrawal and put it all together.”

“I turned her down.”

“And you should have. The last thing Claire needed to worry about was her damned reputation.”

“I wouldn’t have told the story. For your sake.”

“I shouldn’t be spared. I stood by like a damned coward and didn’t try to stop you. Guess I was blinded by love. Stupid.”

“Sam.”

“I should have stopped you. Even if it meant losing Claire, I should have brought you home, convinced you not to run off with Evan. You could have stayed in Portland. I would have put you through college, found a place for you. God, I’m sorry, Emilie.” His voice broke. “If I’d had any guts, none of this would have happened.”

“I wouldn’t have stayed. You weren’t the only one blinded by love.”

“Come home now,” Sam implored. “I’ll get you set up in a place, help you find a job. You’ll be safe from the bastard stalking you.”

“He’d find me. And I have a life here, Sam. I can’t run away. Not again.”

“Will you at least come to the funeral? I’d like to see you.”

“I…I’m not sure that’s appropriate. All the attention would be on me. You and I both know Claire would hate that.”

“That’s not what’s stopping you. What else?”

Emilie hadn’t told him about Claire’s ultimate deception. She had no idea how to break the news.

“Come on, kid. Whatever it is, level with me. No more secrets.”

He was right. Secrets were festering time bombs waiting for the right moment to explode and destroy everything in their path. Telling Sam the truth about her paternity was worse than calling him with news of Claire’s death. What kind of person did that make Emilie?

“Jesus Christ. Do you believe her?” Sam asked when she was finished.

“I’m not sure. Father is marked as unknown on my birth certificate. She had it with her.”

“I don’t even know what to say.”

“Nothing you can say. Truth died with Claire. I’ll never know.”

“Bullshit.” His tone gained vigor. “You deserve the truth, and so does Mark Chambers. We’ll find him and do a DNA test. At least you’ll know.”

“I don’t want to find my real father. There’s no point.”

“That’s up to you. But both you and Chambers need to know.”

“You’re right, but the cost… “

“It’s the least I can do.”

“I’m sorry for all of this, Sam. I’m sorry you’ve been brought into my mess and had to suffer.”

“Don’t be. I should have put an end to all this years ago.”

“You need to get some rest. Go to a hotel or something.”

“Hell, I’ve got a nice, comfy couch right in my office. Not the first night I’ve spent here.”

“I’m not sure when she’ll be released.” She closed her eyes at the memory of her mother’s body lying still and cold on the steel gurney.

“Yeah, I know. Your Agent Ronson said she’d keep me informed. Guess I’m in a holding pattern for now. Sure you won’t change your mind about the funeral?”

“I just can’t,” Emilie whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“I understand. Maybe when this is all over, and you’re safe again, we can get together.”

“I’d like that.”

Sam cleared his throat. “For what it’s worth, I always considered myself your father, even though I did a lousy job. I’d like to try and make it up to you.”

“Hopefully I’ll see you soon, then.”

The dam of tears broke as soon as she hung up. They flowed down her face and soaked Sarah’s designer pillowcase.

All the years lost with Sam. All three of them had been cowards, running from the truth in their own selfish ways. So many things Emilie could have done differently. She could have seen Evan for what he was and stayed in Portland, forging a life without Claire right under her mother’s nose. She could have confronted Claire instead of running away.

But none of that mattered now. The past couldn’t be changed—only the future.

* * * *

Nathan sat across from his father at Sean’s worn kitchen table, both men looking awkwardly at the floor. “You got plans for tonight?”

Sean opened a can of Coors. “Just to plant my ass in the chair and watch the game.”

“Who’s playing?”

“Braves and Philly. Should be a good one. What about you?”

“Depends.” Nathan counted the scratches on the old table.

“On what?”

“On how this conversation goes.”

Sean tipped the chair back on its hind legs. Deep wrinkles creased his forehead. He rubbed the side of his face. “What’s going on?”

“I want to talk about Jimmy.”

The chair’s front legs thudded against the floor. The beer can clattered against the wood table. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Dad, please.”

“Jimmy’s dead and gone. Talking about him won’t change things.”

“No, it won’t bring him back. But it’s time things changed.”

A blush of anger crept across Sean’s fair skin as he stood and glared down at Nathan with cold, piercing eyes. He hadn’t seen that kind of passion from his father in fourteen years.

“Why are you doing this? Life’s gone on, and so have I.”

“Seriously?” Nathan stood as well. He refused to back down from his father’s angry stare. “You stopped living the day he died. You just exist. And you can’t even stand the sight of me.” His voice cracked as long pent-up emotion threatened to spill out.

“What?”

“Come on, Dad. Let’s be honest with each other for once. You just tolerate me. When was the last time you had any real interest in my life?”

The angry set of Sean’s jaw relaxed. “Nathan, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I went to every track meet, every swim meet, every debate, graduations. I’ve always been there for everything in your life.”

“In body,” Nathan yelled. “You think I can’t tell you’d rather be anywhere but in close proximity to me?”

“What do you want from me?” Sean threw his hands in the air. He braced himself against the counter and looked out the large window over the kitchen sink. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because life’s too short for you and me to keep doing this stupid dance. We need to talk about what happened.”

Nathan’s guts twisted painfully at the thought of his father finally unleashing blame on him. But remaining in limbo was no longer an option. Emilie and Claire had done as much, and now Claire was dead, leaving her daughter with no closure.

“If I could go back and change that night, I would. I should have remembered curfew.”

Sean’s back was rigid. His weathered hands gripped the counter. “Please, don’t.”

“I must have asked myself what I could have done differently a thousand times. Why do you think I’m a cop, Dad?”