This sufferable prick. As if he gave a shit about Aspen before she became involved with Quinton—and even then, it was only because he had no choice. Before then, he was as thirsty for her blood as anyone else.
“Don’t talk to me about my daughter. I’ve got it under control.”
“Are you sure about that? Because that’s not what I’m hearing.”
“Really? And exactly what are you hearing?”
“You know damn well what is being said, so don’t pretend otherwise. Isn’t it bad enough she slipped through your fingers and ran off once? You, of all people, should have made it your mission to keep her in a cell. Yet she traipsed off—and then what happened? Someone ended up dead. Someone very powerful. Someone with a lot of powerful friends.”
“I’m well aware.”
“Oh, so then you do know? I was beginning to wonder if you’re capable of keeping your finger on the pulse of current events, the way a man has to be if he’s going to succeed in your position.”
“Are you finished?” I snarl. “Or would you like to continue beating a dead horse, Xander?”
“Excuse me?” he demands with a disbelieving laugh. “Have you forgotten who you’re speaking to?”
That was a step too far. I grit my teeth against the rest of what I long to unleash on this son of a bitch, settling for, “Look, Delilah isn’t your problem. I’ve taken full responsibility for her. The only place she is safe is here. She’s mine to deal with, and I have it under control.”
He’s silent for a moment, which I know doesn’t bode well. When powerful men are quiet, they’re thinking, which is never a good thing.
“I see. Then I’ll have to take care of things myself.”
“Meaning?” I grit out.
“You’ve wasted enough of my time this evening, Lucas. I’m not going to answer questions to which we both know the answer.”
Rage tints my vision. The thought of someone touching her, hurting her in any way, makes my stomach tight and my pulse jump. It makes me murderous.
“Leave her alone, Xander. I mean it. She’s not yours to deal with.”
“The time for that has passed. I’ll do what needs to be done if you can’t be bothered to do it yourself.”
Before I can tell him exactly where to stick his worthless opinion, he ends the call and leaves me hanging. This asshole always needs the last word. I know I can’t fight Xander. I’m not willing to go to war against my in-laws, but I can’t let him hurt Delilah either. Even after everything, anyone with a brain would know she’s innocent and merely a victim to the rage, greed, and needs of those around her. Before I know what I’m doing, I cock my arm and throw the phone.
It lands on the couch and bounces off, sliding across the floor. I don’t bother checking to see whether it’s broken. I don’t give a fuck.
He’s not a man who issues idle threats. Suppose he’s ready to call me and announce his plan to eliminate Delilah. In that case, it means he’s already got a strong idea of how to get it done—and if he doesn’t, it’s only a matter of time before he puts a plan together. A man like him has limitless resources, both in terms of financing and warm bodies willing to do his bidding.
He’s going to have her killed. Just because he can. And I’m supposed to stand here and take it? Yes, you stupid bastard, that’s exactly what you’re supposed to do. I have a duty to the entire school, not this single girl who I have already gone too far for.
Fuck this.To hell with guarding against backsliding. I go to the cabinet and break out the whiskey bottle, uncapping it all at once and raising it to my lips. The first gulps race their way down my throat and into my chest, where heat blooms in their wake. My throat burns, but I even welcome that since it means I’m one step closer to oblivion.
She’s a walking corpse. There’s no other way of putting it. Xander’s made up his mind, and there isn’t a person alive able to foil a plan he’s put in motion.
Meanwhile, here I am. Helpless against it. Knowing it’s wrong—and not only because I’ve fucked the girl. That has nothing to do with it. This is entirely wrong. She saved her own life by ending Nathaniel’s. And as for that piece of shit Marcel? He took advantage of her. She’s never had anyone in her life, not a single person she could count on aside from the woman she never knew was her mother. A woman who was likely doing her best with the limited resources allowed her.
It’s no surprise a vulnerable girl in that position would be willing to do just about anything if it meant finally belonging. Little did she know, the family she believed was her solace was really her biggest threat.
I take another long swig, then drag my forearm across my mouth. Dammit. She never had a chance. Why am I the only person who sees it? How am I supposed to protect her when no one wants to hear the truth? Now the warmth in my chest is bitter. White-hot. Murderous.
The world is starting to blur around the edges, but I welcome that. One step closer to having nothing to worry about. Nothing to regret. But I’m still aware enough to know something for sure: I’m not about to have this girl’s death on my conscience. I might not be able to save her from what’s coming, but I can at least give her a fighting chance by warning her.