20. Logan
LOGAN
T he warmth of Sloane's body anchors me, even as chaos swirls around us.
Her breath stutters against my neck, fingers curled in my shirt, and for a moment—just one goddamn moment—I let myself hold her like she's the only thing keeping me tethered to sanity.
"Awww," Lucia's voice breaks through the fog. "You guys are cuuuuute ."
Reality crashes back. I release Sloane and step away, ignoring the way my hands ache to pull her close again.
Focus, Logan.
But my body betrays me, remembering the curve of her spine, the soft exhale against my skin. The way she fit against me like she belonged there. These aren't thoughts I can afford right now—not with Granger's threat still ringing in my ears.
"We need to move," I say, my voice rougher than intended. "The team's waiting."
Sloane straightens, composing herself with that quick efficiency I've come to expect.
But something's different in her eyes—like she's made a decision I'm not privy to yet.
"Lead the way," she says quietly.
Lucia bounces between us as we head down the corridor, her energy a stark contrast to the tension crackling in the air. The hallway stretches ahead, each step echoing against worn floorboards. Somewhere, a radio crackles with static—probably Asa running interference checks again.
"So..." Sloane breaks the silence, her voice careful but determined. "You went to see them? The guys?"
I nod once, keeping my eyes forward. "Had to debrief. Figure out next steps."
"And?"
A muscle ticks in my jaw. "Handled it. For now."
She huffs a breath—not quite a laugh. "That's vague."
"It's temporary," I admit. "But it buys us time."
Sloane's steps falter slightly. When I glance at her, there's something vulnerable in her expression. It hits me like a physical blow.
"I think..." She swallows hard. "I think it's time I told them everything."
The words hang between us, heavy with implication. Part of me wants to protect her from this—from exposing herself to more risk, more judgment.
But I recognize the steel in her spine, the quiet certainty that says she's already made up her mind.
"You sure?" I ask, even though I know the answer.
She nods. "They deserve to know. After everything... after what you've all been through..." Her voice trails off, and something in my chest constricts.
What does she know?
Before I can ask, we round the corner into the main hall. The team's gathered around the central table—Caleb perched on its edge, Knox standing rigid by the window, Eli and Asa bent over a laptop while Ryker paces nearby. Rosa stands with them, arms crossed, expression grim.
They look up as we enter. The air thickens with unspoken questions.
"Listen," Caleb starts, pushing off the table. "We've been talking, and we think?—"
"Wait." Sloane steps forward, chin lifted. "Before you say anything... there's something you need to hear. All of you."
I watch the others exchange glances. Knox's posture stiffens further. Eli straightens, giving her his full attention. Even Ryker stops pacing.
"The reason I'm here," Sloane continues, her voice steady despite the slight tremor in her hands, "isn't just because I was running. It's because I found something. Something that got my contact killed."
The room goes still. I can feel the weight of everyone's attention, the way they lean in despite themselves. Sloane takes a deep breath, and I resist the urge to step closer—to shield her from what's coming.
Because she doesn't need my protection.
"My name is Sloane Carter," she says. "I'm an investigative journalist, and before I came here, I received a thumb drive containing classified military documents. Files about an operation called Blackout."
The name hits like a thunderclap. Knox jerks as if struck. Caleb's easy smile vanishes. Eli closes his eyes briefly, pain flashing across his features.
"The deeper I dug," Sloane continues, "the more I uncovered. Corruption. Cover-ups. A civilian targeted for knowing too much. Sound familiar?"
Her eyes find mine, and in that moment, I know—she's seen it all. The mission logs. The kill orders. The betrayal that haunts us all.
"My father..." Her voice catches slightly. "He disappeared twenty years ago. Another truth-teller silenced. I thought if I could expose this, maybe I could understand why. But the more I learned, the more dangerous it became."
She tells them everything—about Max, her source, found dead in his car. About the chase across state lines, the burner phones, the nights spent looking over her shoulder. About ending up in Iron Hollow, half-frozen and desperate.
"I didn't know then," she says softly, "that I'd stumbled into a sanctuary built by the very men who tried to stop it. Who chose to protect instead of execute. Who paid the price for doing what was right."
The silence that follows feels electric. I watch my team—my brothers—absorb her words. See the recognition dawn in their eyes. The understanding that's been missing.
Caleb speaks first, his voice uncharacteristically serious. "So what now? We just... what? Take on the whole system?"
"No," Sloane says. "We expose the truth. But carefully. Strategically." She glances at me. "Together."
I feel something shift in the room—a subtle realignment of loyalty and purpose. Knox's shoulders relax fractionally. Eli nods, a small smile tugging at his lips. Even Asa looks up from his screen with newfound interest.
Rosa steps forward, her presence commanding attention. "You're not alone anymore," she tells Sloane. "Whatever's coming, we face it as one."
The others murmur agreement, and I watch as tears gather in Sloane's eyes—quickly blinked away, but not before I catch them. She's spent so long carrying this alone, and now...
Now she has an army.
"We'll need a plan," Ryker says, always practical. "Security protocols, escape routes, contingencies."
"Already on it," Asa adds, fingers flying over his keyboard. "I can strengthen our digital defenses, set up surveillance nets?—"
"And I'll coord with local law enforcement," Eli cuts in. "Keep channels open, eyes on the ground."
They fall into planning mode, voices overlapping with suggestions and strategies. I stay quiet, watching them work, feeling the familiar pride swelling in my chest.
This is what we built The Forge for—to protect those who need it most.
Sloane drifts closer to my side, her shoulder barely brushing mine. "Thank you," she whispers.
I look down at her, at the strength and vulnerability warring in her eyes, and something inside me breaks. Just a little. Just enough.
"Stay close," I murmur back.
She nods once, a ghost of a smile touching her lips. "Always."
The word settles in my chest like a promise—or a prayer. And for the first time since Granger's threat, I feel the ice in my veins begin to thaw.
Because maybe she's right.
Maybe we don't have to face the shadows alone anymore.
The team continues strategizing, their voices a steady hum of determination and purpose. Knox maps out defensive positions while Caleb suggests evacuation routes. Eli coordinates medical supplies as Asa fortifies our digital perimeter.
I watch them work, these broken men who chose to rebuild themselves into something stronger. Who found purpose in protection instead of destruction.
And now they'll protect her too.
The thought should comfort me.
Instead, it twists in my gut like barbed wire. Because I know what's coming. I've seen how Granger operates—how he turns strengths into weaknesses, loyalty into leverage.
He won't just target Sloane now.
He'll use everyone she cares about.
Everyone I care about.
The realization settles like lead in my bones. I look at my team—my family—knowing that by helping her, they've painted targets on their backs too.
But when I glance at Sloane, seeing the fierce determination in her stance as she points out details on the map, I know we've already crossed that line.
There's no going back.
Only forward.
Into whatever storm is brewing on the horizon.
Rosa approaches, her expression grim but resolved. "We'll need to move Lucia somewhere safe," she says quietly. "Just in case."
I nod, guilt churning in my stomach. Another innocent drawn into our orbit of danger.
"I know a place," I tell her. "Off-grid. Sheriff Hale can arrange transport."
"Good." She squeezes my arm once—brief but firm. "We're with you, Logan. All the way."
The words should reassure me. Instead, they weigh like stones.
Because I remember the last time people followed me into battle.
Remember how it ended.
Sloane catches my eye from across the room, and something in her gaze steadies me. She sees the war in my head—the constant battle between protection and isolation.
And somehow, without words, she tells me to trust .
To let them in.
To stop trying to carry it all alone.
I exhale slowly, forcing my shoulders to relax. Watch as my team—my family—prepares for what's coming.
They're soldiers.
Warriors.
Protectors.
And maybe...
Maybe that's enough.
The planning continues late into the night. Maps spread across tables, computers humming with activity, voices rising and falling as strategies take shape. Coffee grows cold in forgotten mugs. Pizza boxes pile up in corners.
But no one leaves.
No one backs down.
This is what The Forge was built for—not just as a sanctuary, but as a fortress. A place where truth can flourish and secrets can't hide.
Where broken people become whole again.
Where a woman running from shadows can find her voice.
Where a man haunted by failure can remember how to trust.
I move through the room, checking positions, reviewing plans, making sure nothing's overlooked.
But my eyes keep finding her—Sloane, bent over documents with Eli, gesturing emphatically as she explains something to Caleb, her face animated with purpose.
She belongs here.
The thought hits unexpectedly, settling somewhere beneath my ribs.
She fits—not just with the mission or the cause, but with us. With me.
And that's what terrifies me most.
Because people who fit?
They're the ones you can't afford to lose.
"Logan." Knox's voice cuts through my thoughts. "We should talk perimeter."
I nod, grateful for the distraction. Follow him to the security station where monitors flicker with feeds from around the compound.
But even as we discuss sight lines and blind spots, my mind drifts back to her.
To the way she looked at me when she said "always."
To the weight of her trust.
To the warmth of her in my arms, solid and real and alive .
And I wonder...
Is this how it feels?
When the walls you've built start to crumble?
When the fortress becomes a home?
When protection becomes something more?
The night deepens. Plans solidify. Team members drift to their quarters for rest, knowing tomorrow brings new challenges.
But something has shifted.
Something fundamental.
We're not just individuals anymore, each carrying our own burdens.
We're a unit.
A family.
Forged in fire and strengthened by truth.
And whatever comes next...
We face it together.
I watch as Sloane gathers her papers, exhaustion finally catching up to her. She sways slightly on her feet, and without thinking, I steady her with a hand at her elbow.
She looks up at me, eyes heavy with fatigue but bright with something else. Something that makes my chest ache.
"Thank you," she says softly. "For letting me tell them."
"Thank you for trusting us," I reply.
A small smile curves her lips. "Turns out trust isn't so scary after all."
The words hit harder than they should. Because she's right.
Trust isn't just about letting people in.
It's about letting yourself be seen.
And maybe...
Maybe that's what we both needed all along.
As we walk back to the cabin, snow beginning to fall in soft flakes around us, I feel it—the subtle shift in the air between us. The way possibilities open like doors in the dark.
But with each step, Granger's warning echoes in my head:
"The next time I pull the trigger ? —"
I glance at Sloane, watching snowflakes catch in her hair.
"It won't be just her in the crosshairs."
The threat settles like ice in my veins, even as warmth blooms in my chest.
Because now?
Now I have something to lose.