Page 69 of Broken Princess
“I guess that’s true.”
“It’s a good idea, though. We just need to hire professional private investigators to do it.”
“Shit,” I muttered. Even with the connections I had, it would take days to make that happen. That was too long. I needed to find Willow right now.
“Sorry. I don’t know what else to suggest. Jamie really isn’t making this easy,” Rowan said, brows puckering. “Unless we can question his best friends or family about his favorite hidey-holes, that’s our only real option right now.”
His words shook something loose in the back of my mind. “I think I might actually have an idea,” I replied, straightening my spine. “Just give me an hour….”
* * *
“Logan. What are you doing here?”My father stared up at me from his desk, glasses halfway down his nose.
I stepped inside his study and closed the door. “I need to talk to you.”
He nodded and gestured to one of the spare chairs. “More wedding stuff?”
“No,” I replied. “In fact, if you don’t listen to me very carefully and agree to help me out today, there might never be a wedding.”
He frowned. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Before I tell you, I need to make you a promise,” I said, sliding into a chair. I leaned forward and clasped my hands in a pyramid on the desk. “If anything I tell you within the next half-hour leaves this room, I’ll go to the media and the police. I’ll tell them every sordid little detail about our family and the way we’ve operated for so long. Not to mention all of the major tax evasion schemes you have running through Wonderland. I’m sure the IRS would love to hear about that.”
Dad stiffened. “So you came here to threaten me,” he said, eyes narrowing. “So much for repairing our relationship, huh?”
“It’s not a threat. It’s a promise,” I said evenly. “I’ll get in just as much trouble as you if I actually go ahead and speak to the cops and journalists about our family. The shit with Willow alone would land me in prison forever. But I’m willing to take that risk if it means taking you down for not being able to keep your fucking mouth shut.”
He swallowed audibly and pushed his glasses up his nose. “You’ve made your point,” he said. “I won’t repeat whatever you tell me to anyone else. Okay?”
“Okay.” I nodded slowly. “First things first. I know who Q is.”
Dad groaned. “You said you’d stop this ridiculous investigation of yours.”
“Well, I didn’t, and I know the truth now. I also know you weren’t lying when you said you had no idea who Q is. You really don’t know, do you?”
“No, I don’t, and I have no intention of finding out,” he snapped. “So if that’s all you had to tell me, then you can shut up and leave my office right now.”
I lifted a brow. “Come on, Dad. I know you’ve always wanted to know who he or she is. I know it fucking kills you to know the shadow council are allowed to know, but you’re not, even though you do so much for the Order,” I said. “I have the name. I can tell you.”
His cheeks reddened, and something flickered in his eyes. For a few seconds, it looked like he was on the verge of giving up and asking me who Q was. Then he shook his head and cleared his throat. “Logan, you need to stop talking right now. I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again: this is a very dangerous subject.”
My eyes narrowed. “It’s not dangerous if you don’t repeat this conversation to anyone else.”
He shifted nervously in his seat. “It doesn’t matter. Q has a way of finding things out,” he said. “Trust me, I’ve seen terrible things happen to people who tried to cross him in the past.”
“I know. Chloe is one of them.”
His eyes widened. “Excuse me? Did you say Chloe?”
“Yes. She’s lying in that bed down the hall with half her brains scrambled because of Q.”
Dad abruptly rose to his feet. “This is ridiculous. Get out.”
“I’m not lying. Q engineered the hit-and-run against Chloe.”
“Why?”
“I’m not sure exactly why, but I think it might be because she looked into the Order and found out too much.”
