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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“I'm sorry, Con,” Micah blurted. “I'm sorry! Please, I'll do anything you want. Please don't let him take them. Please, Con, I'm begging you. I'll do anything!”

Even as his words came out in a rush, his adrenaline spike began to fall and the energy that had been flowing through his veins wilted like a crushed flower. His fingers gripped the fabric of my shirt as he spoke and his forehead kept dropping more and more until the weight of his head was pressed on my chest.

I automatically wrapped my arms around him as best as I could without hurting him any further and said, “Micah, sweetheart, you’re okay, I promise. The kids are okay. I won't let him hurt you or them ever again.”

The hardball speech I’d been prepared to make seeped out of me and instead, I just held on to Micah as hospital personnel began flowing into the room. As they began calling orders to one another, I focused on Micah and Micah only. I lowered my voice so that only he would hear me. “I'm here, Micah. I'm here.”

“Sir, we need to get him back in bed,” I heard a young woman say over my shoulder. I was afraid they were going to try and take him from me, so I didn't give them the opportunity. Instead, I merely nodded and then carefully climbed to my feet, taking Micah with me as I did. I found myself holding him against my chest for a brief moment before forcing myself to settle him on the bed. Micah's eyes were closed so I knew he likely hadn’t heard my last comment, but it didn't matter. However, I still couldn’t make myself release his hand, forcing the medical staff to work around me.

“Sir, we’ve got him,” one of the nurses said, her message clear. I forced myself to release the grip I had on Micah’s hand but when I began to pull away, Micah’s fingers suddenly closed around my own, though his eyes remained closed.

It was in that moment I knew that no matter what he said when he woke up, it wouldn't matter. I would endure each and every lash of cruelty that he wanted to throw at me.

I would take it and so much more.

I would take it all.

Chapter Seven

Micah

The nightmare was a familiar one.

Waking up from it was anything but.

I was right at the moment when Ricky started dragging me to the little room at the back of the house where Barry was generally waiting for me. I was begging him to stop as usual, and, as usual, Ricky only tightened his grip around my wrist and ignored my pleas.

Strangely enough, it was the sound of someone else calling out for me that had made the image of Ricky fade away, only to be replaced by the appearance of soft brown eyes, slightly tanned skin, and beautiful full lips. And that voice… the one that kept saying my name over and over, along with a word I hadn't often heard directed at me in my lifetime.

Please.

I jerked awake, fully expecting to find myself on my sad little mattress in the room I shared with my niece and nephew, but there was nothing familiar about the softness beneath me, surrounding me. The fabrics rustling against my skin felt like the coolest, softest of silks. Except in one spot. One spot felt warm, almost electric. My upper arms. I couldn't figure out why they were alive with this strange current that was shooting up and down my arms.

It was only when I managed to force my too-dry eyes open that I realized I wasn't, in fact, in my bed and that burning feeling wasn't some figment of my imagination, but rather, had everything to do with fingers wrapped around my biceps.

“It's okay, Micah. I've got you.”

I knew that voice just like I knew those eyes and I knew that touch. What I didn't know was where the hell I was. I managed to glance around the room that most definitely was no longer part of the hospital. The space was huge and light and airy and looked very lived in. Neutral paint and various shades of beige, tans, and grays dominated the décor. Clothes were sitting neatly folded on a chair in the corner and pictures lined a dresser opposite the bed. There was a huge flatscreen TV attached to the wall. To my left was a wall of windows with what looked like a balcony. The flickering lights outside told me I was still very much in the city, though I wasn’t sure which one, and that night had fallen.

“I've got you,” Con repeated as his voice softened even more. I heard him take a deep breath, like he’d been holding it or something. I felt the adrenaline that had been surging through me start to fade, leaving my body feeling shaky. I tried to take stock of what I was feeling, but it was hard because there was one predominant thing that seemed to consume my entire body.


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