Forgiven – Con (The Four #3) Read Online Sloane Kennedy

Categories Genre: M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Four Series by Sloane Kennedy
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Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 95906 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
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One—I knew those hands. I’d seen them in action before. I’d seen their brutality firsthand.

And two—he wasn’t going to stop. Just like with Brady, he wasn’t going to stop.

Images of my brother’s body jerking every time those lethal hands landed against his bruised and bloodied flesh had me shaking my head as I closed my one good eye. But I could still hear Brady’s moans.

And my own screams.

Stop. Please! Please stop!

But he hadn’t stopped, and I’d heard that sound every night in my dreams for years. I’d heard them when I’d cared for my brother’s broken body. I’d heard them when I’d begged Brady not to give up and I’d heard them when Brady had been calling me the most vile of names because I wouldn’t just let him die.

Darkness began to claim the edges of my vision, but I fought it. I didn’t have the luxury of slipping into the peacefulness that only sleep could offer. I needed to find Christopher and Rory.

Oh God, Christopher.

The image of the scene I’d walked in on only moments ago crowded in on all my senses and before I could stop it, I was retching. I couldn’t stop the tears that began to fall again as blinding pain consumed my entire body. Several of Ricky’s blows had gotten me in the side so the puking made it feel like my insides were on fire.

“Hey, hey,” I heard someone say and then gentle hands were ghosting over my shoulders. A strong arm went around my waist to keep me from collapsing in the pool of my own sick. Even though I knew who was holding me, I couldn’t stop myself from closing my fingers around the lapel of his jacket.

“I’ve got you,” the man said softly as he held me in a way that somehow, miraculously, didn’t make the pain worse. How the fuck had he managed such a cruel trick?

Because instead of pushing him away like I should have, I found myself dropping my forehead against his chest in the hopes he could somehow absorb the waves of agony that were consuming me.

“Shhhh, I’ve got you, Micah.”

The use of my name was bad enough but when it felt like his lips skimmed the back of my neck, I told myself to shove him away.

I pulled him closer.

“Can you stand?” the man asked.

I wanted to shake my head but was afraid I’d pass out if I did that. I had no clue what would happen if I did try to stand but it didn’t matter.

Christopher and Rory mattered.

I had to find them.

“Yes,” I managed to croak.

I’d like to say I helped the man get me to my feet, but I was too busy stifling a cry of pain as my arm got bumped in the process. I didn’t have a clue I’d even made it upright until the man said, “Try not to move, okay? I want to try and secure your arm to keep it from being jostled.”

I might have managed a nod, but I wasn’t sure. I tried to lean against the wall at my back instead of the man beside me, but my body wasn’t cooperating with the order. His body radiated heat and so I allowed myself to believe that was the only reason I didn’t pull away from him. It had nothing to do with the play of his muscles that shifted against me every time he moved. I had no desire to lose myself in his strength.

None whatsoever.

I actually let out a little snort at the lie but thankfully, the man didn’t seem to notice it. I let my good eye drift shut and tried to keep my breaths shallow so I didn’t feel the burning pain that ran the length of my right side. I heard fabric tearing and then the clinking of metal, but I didn’t care what it meant. I only cared about one thing.

“Christopher, Rory,” I managed to get out as I tried to straighten.

“My brother has them,” the man said.

Was that supposed to be comforting?

I opened my mouth to ask him that very question when he suddenly shifted his weight and moved me forward just a bit, causing my injured arm to shift. I couldn’t contain the soft cry that escaped my lips.

There was a momentary pause and then the man’s mouth was by my ear. “Sorry,” he whispered, his warm breath drifting over my skin. He sounded as pained as I felt.

Which didn’t make any sense, of course.

“It’s fine,” I lied.

I swore I heard him let out a soft sigh before he said, “Micah, I need to bind your arm to your chest to keep it from moving too much until we can get you to a hospital.”

I automatically shook my head. “Need to see Christopher and Rory.” Every word felt like it had cost what little strength I had left.


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