Into the Devil's Underground (31 page)

The heavy guilt Nathan carried for so long slipped off his back, and he felt weightless, like he could do anything. Like everything would work out as it was supposed to.

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. Creepy 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.”

Emilie smiled, a sad smile that hurt Nathan’s heart. “You’re the only good thing to come out of this mess. If not for Creepy, 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.

This man had to be caught, and soon.

30

A
FTER 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 Vances’ 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 stalking eyes, and no one else would be at risk.

But that wasn’t true. Creepy 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. Creepy killed her for me.”

“She shouldn’t have been in Vegas,” Sam choked.

“Did you know why she came?”

“Not until after she spoke with you at the bank.” He sounded like he was fighting off tears. “I swear, Emilie, I had no idea about your grandparents. When I met Claire, she told me she had a stalker, and I helped the two of you relocate. I never dreamed…

“It’s okay, Sam.”

“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?” He pleaded. “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.”

Sam sighed with defeat. “Just think about it, please. I’d really love to see you.”

“I will,” she said. “You need to get some rest. Go to a hotel or something.”

“Hell, I’ve got a nice, comfy couch right in my office.” He forced a laugh. “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.” 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.

*   *   *   *

N
ATHAN 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.” Nathan took a deep breath. He couldn’t change his mind now. “Why do you think I’m a cop, Dad?”

“Because you’re a good kid.”

“No. Every time I go to work, I’m trying to make up for what I did to Jimmy. Each time I help someone, I think maybe I’m balancing the scales. Maybe I won’t be judged so harshly when my time comes.” His mouth tasted ashy, and he longed to turn and run out the door. He had to finish what he’d started. “But I’m finally able to accept Jimmy’s death wasn’t my fault. Now I’m here asking you to do the same.”

Sean cocked his head. His meaty hands released the laminate counter, and he turned back around. His tired eyes were red-rimmed. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Nathan took another scalding, deep breath. This was the hardest thing he ever had to say. His stomach fluttered. “I’m asking you to forgive me, Dad. Do you think Jimmy’d want you hating me for the rest of your life?”

“Is that how you see it?” Sean stepped forward. His graying eyebrows knitted together to form a single line across his forehead. “That I hate you?”

“You blame me. I get it. But I’m asking you to give me a second chance.” His throat throbbed from trying not to cry.

A long, shaky sigh escaped Sean’s open mouth. He leaned against a chair for support, looking every bit his fifty-seven years. “I never realized.”

Nathan pushed on, surprised by his father’s lack of anger. “Something happened to a friend of mine that made me realize I’ve got to do everything I can to heal our relationship. To earn your love again.”

His father dragged his hands through his hair. “Nathan, I’ve always loved you. Not one day has gone by that I didn’t thank God you weren’t taken from me that night.”

Nathan felt like he’d been kicked in the gut. “Then why—”

“Because I’m an old fool.” Sean fell into the chair and put his head in his hands. “You never should have been left to walk home in the first place. Don’t you know that?”

“I don’t remember.”

“That morning, I told you I’d pick you up at your friend’s. I got delayed at work, and next thing I know, I get a call from the police saying Jimmy was dead and you’d been beaten.”

Sean looked up at Nathan. His tears soaked into the wrinkles around his eyes. “I’ll never forget the way you looked when I got to the hospital. You still had Jimmy’s blood on you. You wouldn’t look at me.”

“All I remember is sitting in the back of the police car.” How the hell had he forgotten such important details? Was his guilt so strong he’d simply blacked it out? “What else am I forgetting?”

“At the hospital, I kept telling you I was sorry,” Sean said. “I told you I’d never leave you alone again, that everything was going to be okay. You still wouldn’t look at me. I knew then you’d never forgive me.”

“How could I have forgotten?”

“Doctors said you were in shock. Aunt Kay was with you more than I was, and she said you never wanted to talk about it. I thought if we just moved on, you’d be all right. You didn’t want to be around me, but I could accept that if it meant you having a normal life.”

“You were so standoffish,” Nathan said. “I thought you were angry with me and that it would be best for me not to bother you.” He swallowed painfully, looking into his father’s sad eyes. “You thought I blamed you?”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Sean said. “I blame me. If I’d done my job as a parent, Jimmy would be alive, and you wouldn’t have carried this burden with you.”

“Why didn’t you ever try to talk to me about it?” Nathan felt like a child all over again, desperate for his dad to give him just a few minutes of attention.

“I didn’t want to make it worse,” Sean said. “You were doing well in school and seemed adjusted. I figured I’d let you live your life and maybe one day, you’d forgive me.”

“All this time I’ve been simultaneously hating and feeling sorry for myself, and all I had to do was say something to you.” Bone weary tiredness settled over Nathan. He couldn’t believe he’d been so foolish.

“No, I failed you, again.” Sean pulled a worn, blue handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his eyes. “I got so swept up in my own guilt and pain, and I should have sucked it up and talked to you, been a decent father.”

Nathan clenched his jaw, trying to gather his emotions, before he said, “I’ve seen bad fathers, Dad. You aren’t one of them.”

“You grew up thinking I didn’t love you.” Sean slammed his hand down on the old table. “It’s a credit to your aunt you turned out the way you did.”

“Let’s call the blame even. We both could have done things differently.”

“I’m so sorry, Nathan. You and your sister are the best things I ever did.”

Wetness stained Nathan’s cheeks, the tears blurring his vision. He could have sat right down in the kitchen and sobbed. “Thanks, Dad. I love you too.”

Sean jumped to his feet and pulled Nathan into a bone-crushing hug. He held tightly to his father, tears of gratitude finally trickling from his eyes.

“Why don’t you stay and watch the game?” Sean released him. “We can order a pizza and pig out without Aunt Kay on our asses about cholesterol.”

“On your ass, you mean. I’m in awesome shape.”

“You’re young. Give it another ten years.”

“No anchovies,” Nathan said as his father reached for the phone. “I’m not eating those stinking fish.”

“Pussy.”

31

S
HE’D GONE INTO
the tunnels with Madigan? To their special place? Didn’t she understand what he’d done for her? Or was Madigan’s interference clouding her judgment?