"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. G.o.d, 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 a.s.saults 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 l.u.s.ter.

"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 d.a.m.ned reputation."

"I wouldn't have told the story. For your sake."

"I shouldn't be spared. I stood by like a d.a.m.ned 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. G.o.d, 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 b.a.s.t.a.r.d 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."

"Bulls.h.i.t." 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."

"h.e.l.l, 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?"