“Like I said.” Quinton shakes his head. “That’s not happening. I made you a promise, remember? I’m not going to abandon you now.”
“You have to worry about your family first. They’re what you should be concerned about, not me.”
“If you don’t mind.” Xander clears his throat, giving me a stern expression. “I’m the person best suited to decide what is and isn’t good for my family. If I believed coming here was truly so much of a threat, neither of us would have stepped foot through the door.”
“I see. I’m not trying to tell you what to do, of course. I’m only worried.”
“I appreciate that.”
I look back at Quinton, who’s practically vibrating with intense energy. I’ve seen that look in his eye before, and things don’t usually end well. “How are you?” he grunts.
“Waiting.”
“Waiting for what?”
“You know what. Don’t make me say it. Not to you.” I blink back tears for his sake.
“So that’s it? You’re going to give up? After everything you’ve been through, this is where you decide to give in?”
“I already told you. Didn’t you listen?”
“You weren’t thinking clearly.”
“Don’t tell me how I was thinking. You don’t know.”
Xander shoots his son a look that snaps his mouth shut. It’s a shame I never learned that trick. “I’m sure Quinton only hoped you would come around once given time to clearly consider the situation.”
I look at his father and wish I understood what goes on in his head. There’s no predicting him. “If anything,” I murmur, “I’m more prepared than ever. I know what needs to happen. And I know it would be a waste of time to break down sobbing or pleading for mercy I’ll never receive. I’m not going to humble myself in front of the founders if that’s what you’ve come here to ask me to do. I won’t. I’ll at least keep my dignity in the end.”
When Quinton growls, I add, “At least give me that. Let me decide how this ends.” All he does is turn toward the wall, banging the side of his fist against it.
“Aspen, this is a mistake.” Xander wears an expression of what could pass for genuine concern if it were coming from anyone else. Given our history, he can’t expect me to believe he’s really worried.
“If anything,” I remind him, “you should be glad I did this. I got rid of the last link to my attack. The last link between your family and the Valentines getting wiped out.”
“You do realize even if you admit you did it purely for yourself, no one could blame you.”
“Then if I did it purely for myself, why isn’t it enough that I’m ready to accept the consequences?”
“Because, for one thing, your father didn’t sacrifice his life for you to give yours up so thoughtlessly.”
My head snaps back. “What does he have to do with any of this?”
“I’m trying to tell you. Just as he said in the video, he sacrificed himself for your sake. That was a choice he made, to die as he did.”
“How do you know about the video?” I shoot Quinton a look, but he’s unreadable, still facing the wall. “How would you know what he was thinking?”
“Because I was there. I facilitated the video’s creation.” He stares at me, unblinking. “And I killed him.”
Any other time in my life, I would have been shocked, speechless, probably falling to my knees. But considering what I have been through in the last few days, nothing affects me like it usually would. My mind stays clear, my breath even, my voice calm.
I know it’s true. I feel it. Xander killed my father, and now, with nothing to lose, I’m not afraid to speak my mind. “You can stand there and tell me that? Like it’s nothing. How can it mean nothing to you?”
“Aspen…” Quinton warns, but I’m not in the mood to hear it. Clyde Mather might not have been my biological father, but he was my dad. He raised me. He loved me. He was flawed, and his life was already on the wrong track before I was ever born. But he always treated me like his own. I can’t help wanting to stick up for him even in death.
Xander absorbs this without reacting. “Because he wanted it that way. It was what he told you in the video, right?”
“How do I know you didn’t put him up to it?”
“What would I have to gain from that?”
I roll my eyes, unable to stop myself. I’m already looking death in the eyes. What’s the point? “Right. Because everything is a matter of gain. Everything has to be weighed and judged based on how it affects you.”
“Stop.” Quinton stands over me, and for the first time since entering the cell, he touches my shoulder. “You don’t understand.”
“Clyde reached out to me and asked me to visit the prison,” Xander explains, his voice strangely calm. “He asked me point-blank how his choices had affected you. I didn’t mince words. I admit I was hard on him but not out of anything he did to me. What was between us was understood. I explained how difficult things have been for you. He knew his life was worth nothing, either in or out of prison. The moment he stepped foot outside, if he got paroled, it might very well have been his last moment. He had nothing left to live for but your safety. The only way to remove the target from your back was to eliminate him. He asked me to do it. He wanted me to, but only once he sent you a final message.”