Saving Sloan (Sloan Series Book 2)

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Authors: Kelly Martin

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Saving Sloan

Sloan Series, Book Two

by Kelly Martin

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.

 

SAVING SLOAN

Copyright © 2016 KELLY MARTIN

Cover Art by P.S. Cover Design

A NOTE FROM KELLY

 

S
AVING
S
LOAN WAS THE FIRST SEQUEL
I ever wrote. I did it because people read
Saint Sloan
and fell in love with Aaron and Ray (well, mostly Aaron — poor Ray #TeamRay #NeedsMoreMembers).

Saving Sloan is also a “murder mystery” except there is no murder (at the beginning anyway). There is a huge whodunit, and the prom — of course the prom.

The Sloan series is about accepting yourself, living with your choices, being brave, and knowing that no matter what, you have to have faith in something.

Which side are you on?

 

~Kelly Martin 7/22/2016

 

 

 

 

 

To the readers who loved Saint Sloan enough to want a sequel

To my friends and family for the support

To Brandon

PROLOGUE

 

Before the Fall…

 


W
HY ARE YOU DOING THIS?”
It was probably the stupidest question ever. Sloan knew exactly why he was doing it, but she needed to keep him talking. Keep him driving. She had a bad feeling what would happen if he stopped. The gun lying on his lap was a big clue. The fact that he’d told her what would happen was a bigger one.

She was going to die.

He laughed humorlessly and pushed the gas pedal harder. “You aren’t that stupid, Sloan. You know what’s going on. I tried to warn you. You can’t say I didn’t. Gave you plenty of opportunities. I tried to get you to drop it, but you wouldn’t.”

“I will now. I promise. I’ll go back and tell them everything.” Anything to keep him talking.

“That’s what I’m afraid of. You’ve never been a good liar.”

The car turned around a curve, one of the easier ones. Brown Hollow had a lot of curves, a lot of blind spots, and lots of animals that could run out in front of a vehicle. It also had a very pretty overlook to the river and a waterfall that had been rated one of the best in Tennessee. She couldn’t let him get her to the Falls.

“I can. If I’m motivated enough.”

He ran his fingers over the pistol. “Are you motivated?”

“Very much.”

He smirked. “I don’t believe you. You are now, that’s for sure. Quaking in your fancy dress, but what about when you get home? What if you see him and change your mind?”

“I won’t.”

“Excuse me if I don’t believe you.”

“Don’t you think shooting me is a bit dramatic?” Sloan asked, trying her best to stay calm. Despite her best efforts, her fingers shook.

Morbid as it was, she’d often thought about the best way to die. Asleep in her bed when old and gray seemed the best option. Drowning, the worst. Shot? Depended on where he shot her, she supposed.

At eighteen, she never thought she’d have to consider such possibilities.

“Who ever said anything about shooting you? Haven’t you been paying attention?” He glanced at Sloan with a twinkle in his eyes and then back to the road. The lonely road that barely got any traffic.

“Then what?”

“Did God give you wings?”

That caught her off-guard.

He spoke again when she didn’t answer right away. “Give you wings. God. Did He give you wings when you were saved?”

“No,” she muttered, not liking where this was going.

“What? Sorry, didn’t hear you.”

“No,” she said louder, hopefully with more defiance.

“No. Well, too bad. A saint like you. A perfect creature, even if it’s in your own mind, like you should have the wings of an angel to go with that crooked halo you like to show off.”

“I don’t…”

With his right hand, he grabbed the gun and held it up to her temple, causing her to squeeze her eyes shut. He was crazy, totally crazy.

And she was totally alone with him.

“You do. You know you do. You’ve been little Miss Perfect since you started this church mess, and it needs to stop. You need a reality check. You need someone to show you the way.”

He pushed the barrel of the gun harder against her head. She tried very hard not to flinch. Who knew what he’d do if she did?

Please, God, don’t let him kill me. Please. Don’t let him.
She screamed the prayer in her mind without moving a muscle.

“I owe you something, Sloan, and I’m going to get it tonight. You can talk, you know.” He chuckled and put the gun back in his lap.

Her muscles gave way and Sloan fell over in her seat, sucking in a deep breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. She was afraid of what he thought she
owed
him. The first thing that crossed her mind was he was taking her somewhere to force her to sleep with him. That brought the question, would she do it if he had a gun to her head? Or would she let him shoot her before he touched her again?

“It’s not what you’re thinking, Sloan,” he said like he could read her mind. After taunting her for a week in the shadows, maybe he could. “I wouldn’t touch you. Don’t want to touch you. Been there. Done that. No, I have a much better plan for you. We have to test the theory.”

“What theory?” she asked barely above a whisper. There was no stopping the shaking now. She was freezing even though he had the heater on full-blast. Strange for May.

Just like old times.

Her red-sequined prom dress wasn’t exactly keeping her warm, and the fear sucked whatever heat she had out.

“Your wings. Weren’t you listening?” Up ahead, illuminated by the Mustang’s headlights, Sloan saw the sign which sat between yellow and black arrows, warning of a sharp curve ahead.
Chapel Falls

“We’re going to see if an angel like you can fly or if you are a sinner like the rest of us… and fall.”

CHAPTER ONE

 

Five Days Before the Fall…

 


A
ND WE ARE SO GRATEFUL TO
have Donna back with us.” Pastor Dan Neal beamed from the pulpit. He pointed to the elderly lady in the front row, her normal seat, and the congregation of about fifty souls clapped. Sloan clapped louder than them all. In the five months since her attack, Sloan had visited Donna numerous times in the nursing home. She’d always called it a social visit, but it was always more. As the only church-going person Sloan knew, Donna could be counted on to help her out with some situations she couldn’t talk to anyone else about. Well, she could, but they didn’t give as good of advice as Donna.

When she still hurt months after her attack, especially her cheek that had a three-inch telltale reminder of her nightmare, her best friend Mackenzie had told her to keep taking her pain pills. They were for pain, and pain she’d been in. Donna had warned that she was taking too many and was very close to becoming dependent on them for any sort of relief. Donna had even hinted that the pain might be psychosomatic, a deduction Sloan hadn’t exactly agreed with, but had appreciated.

When she’d talked to her mother about the Hunter brothers, her mom had advised her to pick one and not string the other along. Donna’d had another theory. She’d said to let things go naturally. Eventually, the right one for her would fall into place. In the meantime, she shouldn’t commit to either one of them. Her mom had called it stringing them both along. Donna had said as long as she told them the truth, it wasn’t. Sloan had told them the truth, and both Aaron and Ray had seemed okay with it.

Since then, there was rarely a Saturday night they didn’t go out together, all three of them. She always sat between them and never felt like she had to choose, though she wondered how long the guys would be okay with it. Donna said God would work it out, and she needed to trust Him.

So there Sloan sat at church, clapping for the return of her friend Donna and sitting between the Hunter brothers — Aaron on the right, Ray on the left — trusting God to work it out. Thankfully, the school had worked out one issue among the three.

Prom.

The prom was Friday and, as per school policy, only students from the school could attend. That left Ray as her date. Aaron had never said anything negative about it, though he did sort of huff every once in a while when they were making date plans. It would be the first time she and Ray would be out by themselves. If she wanted to be honest, it made her nervous. This was the most
real
date she’d been on since Boyd, and that hadn’t ended well.

Sloan’s eyes automatically locked on the prayer board behind Pastor Dan. Every week, they would request prayers for different people. Some were on there every week. Boyd Lawrence was one of those people. Boyd had been in a wheelchair since December, since Sloan had knocked him back into a door facing. He was in rehab, but it wasn’t certain if he’d ever be able to walk again. For her part, Sloan hoped not. She hated to be that way, especially in church, but Boyd was evil. He’d attacked her in her house, tried to rape her twice. And if it hadn’t been for Aaron, he probably would have killed her. He was a psychopath in her book, and not one she ever wanted to see again.

It hurt. It honestly did because at one time she’d loved him, or thought she had. She’d trusted him, slept with him, and told him everything important in her life. Then she’d gotten saved, and he couldn’t deal. She supposed she should have seen the writing on the wall before it got as bad as it had. He’d always been a bit clingy, sort of manipulative, and liked to tell her what to do. Still, he was Boyd Lawrence. He’d never hurt her.

Except he had.

And now he was paying for it in a wheelchair, confined to his house and awaiting his trial in a few months.

It had been a while since she’d thought of him on her own, actually. She tried as hard as she could to move past everything he’d done to her, everything he’d done to Aaron and Ray… and Darcy, her former tormentor. He’d attacked her too. Darcy and Sloan had come to a sort of truce after the Boyd debacle, but they still weren’t best friends like they had been in the past. They smiled at each other in the halls and were cordial. No sleepovers or hair braiding, though. That was asking too much from both of them.

“Please stand for the altar call song.” Pastor Dan raised his hands, and everyone stood. Sloan looked around confused and did the same. When had the preaching stopped? Hadn’t he just started? Hadn’t they just stood up and welcomed Donna back? The clock said 10:55. Twenty minutes since the last time she’d looked.

Wow. Time sure flew when her mind wandered and she didn’t pay attention to the sermon. She felt sort of bad about that. Hopefully, it hadn’t been one of those life-altering sermons that changed a person’s entire thinking on life. She’d totally missed out on it.

The congregation sang hymn number one sixty-two. One she had never heard before about power being in the blood. The blood, of course, was Jesus. The image of another blood source flooded her mind: Boyd’s blood running from his nose and mouth when he fell against the door at that horrible angle. Thinking about it, the gnawing pain in her ribs and leg got worse, and she wanted a pain pill so bad. Nothing horrible. Nothing even prescription. An over-the-counter one would do just fine. Generic even. Anything to take the throbbing away.

Lost in her own thoughts, she sang the song the best she could, occasionally flicking her eyes at the altar to see if anyone had gone yet. She hadn’t gotten saved at the old wooden piece of furniture, but a lot of people had.

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