Forgotten Luca Read online Sloane Kennedy (The Four #1)

Categories Genre: Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Four Series by Sloane Kennedy
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Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 112069 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
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He hadn’t changed much in the past eight years. I hated to admit that I’d even noticed such a thing, but I couldn’t pretend I hadn’t memorized everything about my would-be rescuer’s features in the few brief moments we’d spent together. I hadn’t even really seen his face until after he’d finished…

I swallowed hard as I quickly dismissed that particular scene from my mind. No way in hell did I want to go there.

I won’t hurt you, Billy. I just have to pretend, okay?

He’d kept that promise. He hadn’t hurt me. I’d known what was supposed to happen when my captors had led him into the dingy room I’d been pushed into just minutes before he’d been brought in. It’d happened often enough. After all, I’d been The Sample.

That’s what the men and two women who’d moved me from place to place had always called me, though never in front of the customers. In front of them, I’d been Billy. Since that hadn’t been my real name, I hadn’t really cared either way. And truth be told, Luca had been thrust into my orbit when I’d been at my weakest. I’d been with my captors for what I’d figured to be around two years and every single day had been pure agony. I’d been violated in more ways than I even knew were possible. So when the tall, dark, well-dressed man had been shown into the dimly lit room and eyed the dirty mattress with no emotion whatsoever, I’d given up and I’d done what I’d promised myself I wouldn’t.

I’d broken.

And I’d begged.

Not for my life… I hadn’t even cared about them killing me.

No, I’d begged the dangerous-looking man not to touch me. The tears I’d never let myself shed in front of the people who’d taken me and decided I wasn’t even worth auctioning off to the highest bidder had fallen freely. There’d been no fight left in even a single cell of my body.

With every step the man had taken as he’d approached me, the panic and desperation had grown.

But I hadn’t tried to fight back, and the only words that’d fallen from my lips were the same pleas over and over again.

I just want to go home.

I felt my breath catch in my throat as I realized I was doing exactly what I’d promised myself I wouldn’t.

Remembering.

I lurched to my feet and began rubbing my arms as my skin felt both hot and cold at the same time. The itching sensation beneath my skin made my heart beat faster in my chest until I was sure I was going to have a heart attack. I automatically started scratching at my skin, but the second my fingertips came into contact with the raised flesh on the inside of my elbow, I let out a rough curse and spun around.

Part of me was hoping Luca would still be in the living room so I could demand he give me my drugs back, but by the time I reached the small space, that thought was already gone.

The drug wasn’t going to fucking win this one.

Not again.

And certainly not because of that son of a bitch.

I forced myself to walk slowly past the living room in case Luca was still around. But I knew he was gone before I could even check it.

I hated that I knew.

I hated that I could sense his absence.

I hated that I was actually disappointed.

It’s only because I wanted to lay into him some more… fuck with his head, I told myself.

I ignored the sarcastic denial that seared through my brain and quickened my pace. It took just seconds to reach the bathroom, but it felt like hours. I got the shower going even as my skin burned in protest.

“Not fucking happening,” I muttered.

I was beyond grateful that I could afford to live in my own place because all too often I had this same argument with myself and it wasn’t conducive to having a nosy roommate, especially when the taste of heroin was so prominent on my tongue. I hadn’t used in two years, but times like these made it feel like I’d given up the drug only hours earlier.

Ask for help.

“No,” I practically snarled as I ripped my shirt off, not caring that the buttons on the moderately priced dress shirt went flying. My wrists got hung up on the rolled-up sleeves but the discomfort of dragging it over my shaking hands helped me focus. I turned the water on its coldest setting at the same time I kicked off my shoes. My blood felt like it was boiling and my stomach started to roll violently.

It was like my body knew what was coming.

And what wasn’t.

I fumbled with my belt and somehow managed to get it undone, but when the zipper and button proved to be too much for me, I stepped into the shower with the pants still on. The shock of the cold water stole my breath, and I stifled the cry of relief as my body’s natural defenses kicked in. It was like robbing from Peter to pay Paul. As the heat inside me dissipated and was replaced with bitter cold, I sighed in relief and began working my pants open. But just as quickly as the adrenaline had kicked in, it started to fade as my body adjusted to the new onslaught of sensation and exhaustion quickly overtook me. I felt the coil inside of me threatening to unfurl much like it had this afternoon when I’d laid eyes on Luca again, but this time I managed to quell the need to do anything but stand there silently as the water rained down on my wrecked body.



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