Salvation Read Online Sloane Kennedy (The Protectors #2)

Categories Genre: Angst, Crime, Dark, Erotic, Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: The Protectors Series by Sloane Kennedy
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Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
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“What happened?” I asked Hawke.

Hawke shook his head. “I didn’t see the shooter. The dog heard something and took off. Then he started barking and a second later came the shot. He’s bleeding pretty bad, Ronan,” Hawke said quietly, though with Seth right there, he had to have heard it.

“Give him to me,” I said as I took the dog from him. “Can you move my car from in front of the gate?”

Hawke nodded after giving Seth a quick glance. “I’ll stay here and check things out,” Hawke murmured. “Keys?”

“In it,” I said, though my eyes were on Seth who’d gone deathly quiet and seemed frozen in place. All the color had drained from his face as he stared at his dog who was dead weight in my arms.

“Seth,” I said gently as I tried to get his attention but with my hands full of dog, I couldn’t get him to focus on me. I could feel blood seeping into my shirt so I gave up on niceties and yelled, “Seth!”

Seth jerked at the sound of my voice but he finally looked up at me.

“I need you to go get your keys and start your car, okay? And call your vet to make sure they know we’re coming.” Seth managed to nod but he didn’t move otherwise and his water-filled eyes were back on Bullet. “Baby,” I whispered in the desperate hope of snapping him out of it. The endearment seemed to work because Seth finally seemed to come back to himself.

“Please, Ronan, I can’t lose him too,” Seth managed to croak out as tears slipped down his cheeks.

“You won’t,” I promised, though it was a promise I had no right to make. I could feel Bullet’s labored, shallow breaths against my body and I willed the dog to hang on because like it or not, he really was all Seth had left.

Because I could no longer deny that Seth had lost me. Only it hadn’t been the day I’d walked away from him – it had happened the same night Trace had died. Because I’d died that night too.

Chapter Twelve

Seth

Even though I was numb inside, I couldn’t stem the tears that slipped down my cheeks and kept dripping onto my folded hands. Every once in a while I managed to dab at my face with the wadded up tissue that had been placed between my fingers by someone, but the effort was pointless since the tissue was nearly soaked through. I felt like my brain had already processed that I was going to lose the only important thing I had left in my life, the only living soul that I knew, unlike Ronan, would never choose to leave me. But for whatever reason, my body couldn’t rid itself of the mantle of denial that had settled over it.

It had taken me a long time to find the car keys after Ronan had ordered me to get my car started and by the time I’d found them, Ronan was already rounding the house, a deathly quiet Bullet in his arms. I hadn’t had the courage to ask Ronan if Bullet was still alive but he’d told me anyway with a gentle, “He’s hanging on, Seth.”

Although Bullet had been quiet, he hadn’t been unconscious and he’d spent the entire car ride to the vet’s office licking my arm as I’d cradled his head in my lap. I’d used my other arm to keep Bullet’s body from sliding off the back seat of the car as Ronan took every turn nearly as fast as the straightaways. It wasn’t until Bullet licked me that first time that I’d nearly lost it all together. Because even with all the pain my loyal friend had to have been feeling, he’d still sought to comfort me in the same way he always had.

The vet had been waiting for us when we’d arrived and Bullet had been rushed into surgery. I hadn’t been able to see the actual wound, just the large swath of blood covering his side. My hands had been covered in blood by the time we’d gotten to the clinic but now they were clean again and I had no clue how that had happened. Ronan probably. But for once, I couldn’t bring myself to care or to wonder what it meant. I didn’t even care that he was there. I just wanted my dog to be okay.

“Drink this,” Ronan said as he handed me a small paper cup full of water. I did as I was told because I didn’t have the energy to argue. I felt the tissue in my hand replaced with a dry one but when Ronan settled his hand on my lower arm, I pulled it away. I nearly laughed at the irony – suddenly I was the one who couldn’t stand to be touched.


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