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I open the door wider, inviting him in without a word. My fighting experience taught me the ability to read body language. Everything about him is tense, nervous, and jumpy. The way he flexes his fingers, his gaze darting around without lingering on any one spot for too long.
Obviously, there’s only one question on my mind. “Is it Aspen? Is something wrong?”
“No, she’s fine. She’s in the library with Brittney, doing whatever they do there.” He waves a dismissive hand, though the fond smile he tries to hide tells me I don’t have anything to worry about. He only pretends to be dismissive of how she chooses to spend her time. It’s probably more habit than anything else by now, mirroring what would surely be his father’s attitude in the same situation.
As it turns out, Xander is the reason Quinton paid a visit.
“I can’t fucking do it. I don’t want anything to do with this whole situation.”
Rather than jump to take the bait, I play it cool. Knowing Xander, this could be a means of testing my position. “What situation?” I ask, returning to my chair and watching as he paces in tight circles.
He rolls his eyes at me before scoffing loudly. “You know what I’m talking about. Let’s cut the bullshit, okay?”
“Careful, now,” I warn. “We might have my daughter in common, but I’m not somebody you want as an enemy.”
“I know. But I mean it. We’re past that point. I know he called you. I know he told you what he wants to do. He wants her gone. Out of here, out of our lives, out of everything.”
This doesn’t come as a surprise—I knew from the beginning he wasn’t making an idle threat. Men like him never do. That doesn’t mean I’m happy to be proven right. “And how does he plan to do that?”
“I still don’t know.” I lower my brow, staring at him. “I don’t. I swear. You know how it is. He wouldn’t tell me until the last minute. He doesn’t want me spilling to anybody and fucking with his plans.”
I believe him. “But you don’t want anything to do with it?”
He scrubs his hands over his head, still pacing. He reminds me of myself, angry and uncertain, full of energy he can’t vent how he wants to. “Listen. You know there’s no love lost between that girl and me.” Something dark stirs in me when he lifts his lip in disgust. “But she’s not some criminal genius either. The only reason she’d have to get that close to Nathaniel Brookshire would be if he forced her. She didn’t seek out and murder him in cold blood, though that’s what everyone wants to make it sound like.”
Yes, they would. Yet another thing I’ve always known would be the case. “So he’s going to try to get to her while she’s here?”
“He’s dead set on it.”
Fuck!I force a few deep breaths to calm myself a fraction. The fresh whiskey bottle in the cabinet is calling to me, its sweet song tickling my ears and promising release. Something tells me there wouldn’t be any measure of control once I got started drinking, and I can’t have Q knowing about that. He’s not the kind of person who’d run off and tell everyone I’m spiraling, but that doesn’t mean I want him to see me like that. I’m not exactly proud of myself right now.
He rambles on, oblivious to my reaction. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t even know why I came to you. I can’t talk about it with Aspen because we both know how she’ll feel about it, and the last thing I want to do is make my wife upset, but when my father is set on something, he’s set on it.”
“We don’t need her helping Delilah escape again,” I murmur.
“Good luck if you think she’ll ever truly be sorry for that, though she feels sorry for what happened to Delilah afterward. She knows if she hadn’t freed her, things would have gone a lot differently, but still thinks she should never have been locked away in the first place.”
“Hindsight is 20/20.” Is it ever?
“What a shame foresight can’t be.” Again, he scrubs his hands over his head, blowing out a sigh that puffs his cheeks. “What am I supposed to do about this? It feels wrong, and I never thought I’d say that about anything involving Delilah.”
There’s only one thing to say. “Don’t worry about it.”
He looks at me like I lapsed into Greek. “Really? That’s all you have to say? Don’t worry about it?”
“I’ll take care of it. All I need you to do is worry about yourself and Aspen. Enjoy being together, like you should be. You shouldn’t have to worry about what your father may or may not do.”
“But—”
“That’s an order.” I know how impossible it is to be in his position. It’s one thing for me to tell Xander to fuck off, but his own son? That’s a very different story. And while Quinton is fearsome and even dangerous, family loyalty is what matters most in this world. He loves Aspen, and I know he’d kill anyone who thought to hurt her, but he can’t go to war against his father. It’s not possible.
He shakes his head as he leaves, obviously perplexed. Let him be. That’s better than going against his father and possibly jeopardizing Aspen somehow. I wouldn’t put it past that son of a bitch to hurt her somehow in retaliation against his own son. He’s that cold-hearted.
I’m about to close the door when Quinton doubles back before reaching the hall. “I don’t know what you plan on doing with Delilah, but you’ll regret it. I just know it.”
It’s all I can do not to burst out laughing. “I already do.”
He scowls, puzzled, before leaving for good.
