Page 121 of Logan

I nod. “You were good parents.” I sniffle as the emotions swirl inside me. “What if someone finds out I’m adopted? If the media finds out?”

Dad shrugs. “If you want to tell them, that will be your choice. I won’t stop you. Especially now that Mom is no longer alive. I was always in favor of telling everyone.”

Fuck. I rub my face.

“Why do I have a feeling all these questions aren’t related to the video in question?” Dad asks.

“It doesn’t matter. Just one more thing I need to deal with.”

“When is Liam meeting with the board?” Dad asks.

“I assume in a few days. He hasn’t notified me yet.”

“Okay, so we have time to think of a solution.”

“What do I do?” I ask. “How do I fix this?”

“You go to her,” Dad says. “You find her, wherever she’s run to. You fall to your knees, and you beg her forgiveness.You offer her the world, your soul, whatever it takes. And then you pray like hell she’s a better person than you deserve.”

I nod, resolve hardening in my gut. He’s right. Of course, he’s right.

I turn to go, my hand on the door, when Dad’s voice stops me. “And Logan?”

I glance back, one brow raised.

“When you bring her home, bring her to meet the family.” A ghost of a smile plays at the corners of his mouth. “It’s about damn time I met the woman who finally brought the indomitable Logan Valeur to his knees.”

A surprised laugh bubbles out of me, bright and rusty with disuse. “I’ll do that.” I pause, sobering. “And Dad? Thank you. For...everything.”

He waves me away, gruff and blustering, but I can see the shimmer of emotion in his eyes. “Go on, get out of here. Go get your girl.”

I duck out of his office, my heart thundering in my chest. I feel lit up inside, electrified with purpose.

I’m going to find Sloane. I’m going to fix this unholy mess I’ve made. I’m going to lay myself bare at her feet and pray for absolution.

But first, I need to find out where she’s gone.

I pull out my phone and dial with shaking fingers, pacing the plush carpet as it rings once, twice. On the third ring, a chirpy voice answers.

“Emery? It’s Logan Valeur.” I try to keep my voice steady and authoritative. “I need your help.”

What follows is a jumbled, neck-snapping conversation wherein I parse out that Sloane has fled the city and run off tolick her wounds in some godforsaken state park. Emery is cagey, protective of her friend, and it takes every ounce of charm and persuasion I possess to wrangle the location from her.

By the time I end the call, I’m vibrating with urgency, with the need to move, to act. I’ve got a four-hour drive ahead of me, and Sloane’s already got a hefty head start.

I curse and break into a run, sprinting through the hallways and bursting out into the parking garage. I throw myself into my car and peel out with a screech of rubber, my mind racing ahead.

Starved Rock. The middle of fucking nowhere. But it’s something, a thread to follow. A path back to Sloane.

I’ll walk through fire, crawl over broken glass, hike a thousand miles of godforsaken wilderness.

Whatever it takes. However far I have to go.

I’m coming for her. And this time...I’m never letting her go.

Chapter Thirty-Five

SLOANE