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And that’s what finally does it.

I bark out a sharp laugh and shake my head. “Wanna know what’s funny? You keep calling me your son when we both know I’m not. I never have been.”

The room goes so silent you could hear a pin drop.

Salem stiffens while Taylor’s eyes widen, whispering something under his breath.

My dad’s—no, Joel’s jaw tightens. “Logan⁠—”

“You’ve always treated me like a fucking burden!” Years of resentment bubble up to the surface. All this time I’ve spent trying to be something he’d be proud of, only to be a disappointment. “I’ve always been a project you got stuck with, and I’m so fucking tired of it.”

His expression doesn’t change, save for… something flashing in his eyes. Guilt? Shame? I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t care.

Grabbing my jacket, I shove my arms through the sleeves before pushing to my feet. “I’m quitting.”

His jaw nearly drops, matching my friends’ expressions. “No, you’re not.”

“Yes. I am. Effective immediately.” I brush past him, knocking his shoulder harder than I need to.

He calls after me, but I don’t look back. I have nothing more to say to him. To anyone.

I just want to go home and rot.

Salem and Taylor follow me into the elevator, silent as they study me, but I don’t look at them. I close my eyes and lean back, twisting that forsaken metal band on my left ring finger like it means anything.

Tay is the first to speak. “Well, that was… fucking badass. Do you feel better?”

Honestly, I just feel numb. Not good, not bad, not anything.

When I don’t respond, Salem’s soft sigh fills the elevator. “Does that mean you’re coming on the tour?”

My eyes fly open to find her focused on where I’m fiddling with my wedding band.

I should say no. I should tell them both to go to hell and leave me in my perfectly lonely, miserable bubble.

But I don’t.

Because as much as I don’t want to see Devon—as much as the thought of being anywhere near him makes me want to puke—I can’t sit in another office again. I can’t be chained to a desk for the rest of my life. I’ll lose my fucking shit.

Scrubbing a hand over my face, I watch the numbers on the elevator tick down, poetically synonymous with my descent into damnation.

I should say no.

Instead, I find myself nodding, not in control of my own body anymore. “Sure. Why the hell not?”

They both blow out a breath—relief from Taylor, annoyance from Salem.

The elevator finally dings on the ground floor, and not a second too soon. When the doors slide open, we step into the lobby in silence. Warm Utah sun hits my skin the moment we exit the building and like a moth to a flame, my eyes find him immediately.

Devon leans against the side of an RV, one boot crossed over the other with a cigarette glowing between his fingers. His face is illuminated enough to highlight the tension in his jaw, the way his eyes flick up and lock onto mine like he’d known exactly when we’d appear.

The air shifts, shame tightening around my lungs so tight I nearly choke.

At first, no one says anything.

Then Salem boldly slips past me, shoulder-checking Devon’s arm as she passes him. He doesn’t take his eyes off me.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” Dev drawls, smoke curling around his words. The casual tone is betrayed by the steel in his gaze.