Sacrificing Sloan (Sloan Series Book 3)

Sacrificing Sloan

The Fall

Sloan Series, Book Three

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.

SACRIFICING SLOAN

Copyright © 2016 KELLY MARTIN

Cover Art by P.S. Cover Design

A NOTE FROM KELLY

H
ERE IT IS!
T
HE LAST OF
the Sloan series. Have you picked a side yet? Are you #TeamAaron or #TeamRay… and, of course, is Aaron even still alive (how about that cliffhanger in Saving Sloan?)

I cannot thank you enough for going on this journey with me (and Sloan, Ray, Aaron, Boyd, Darcy, Mr. Lawrence). This series will always hold a special place in my heart.

Unlike Saint Sloan and Saving Sloan, this book has had the most tweaks since the first release. First of all, it has a new name. It was originally titled THE FALL. It is now SACRIFICING SLOAN (I think it fits better). The ending is also a 'tad' bit different. However the story is the same, so if you've already read THE FALL, this one won't be new to you <3

As always, leave a review on Amazon when are you finished :) Let me know what you think of the story and your own stories of faith and having to accept yourself /your choices.

Grab some popcorn and some tissues. Get ready for the final part in the Sloan Series.

Love y'all,

Kelly Martin 7/22/2016

To Whitney

PROLOGUE

T
HERE ARE MOMENTS WHEN TIME STOPS
—when life stands still—when air stops flowing in and out of lungs and a person’s mind can’t comprehend what’s happened.

Come on…Don’t do this to me.

The machines beeped.

The clock ticked.

Voices filtered through the hospital walls.

Please wake up… please don’t die.

Silence.

CHAPTER ONE

Sloan

Three days before

S
CREAMING BROKE ME OUT OF MY
trance. Loud, hoarse screaming that didn’t stop until I realized the screaming came from me.

Over and over I yelled Aaron’s name, praying for some sign he had missed the boulders below. Some sign he’d survived. Because he had to survive. Any other outcome was unacceptable.

Finally, after all that time, after everything we’d had been through, I understood my feelings. I loved Aaron. Pure and simple.

His brother Ray was my friend, but—

Ray!

Forcing my legs to move, I crawled away from the ledge and over the twenty or so feet to Ray, who remained motionless, slumped against the tire of Aaron’s Mustang. Blood oozed from where the bullet had sliced his temple and driven him unconscious.

I fell down beside him and carefully examined the wound. It was like a dream. None of it could be real, but it all felt terribly real. Ever have those dreams like that? The dreams that feel so real when they are happening, but they aren’t… I knew it was a dream. I wanted it to be a dream.

It had to be a dream.

Where was a phone? He needed help and needed help now.

I felt his side pocket. Nothing. His second pocket produced his cell, and thankfully, there was service—a miracle, since Chapel Creek didn’t normally have good reception. When I heard ringing on the other line, I sank down and let the tears flow, grateful to God, and held Ray’s hand tighter.

“Stay with me. You can do it. Stay with me.” I whispered both to Ray and to God. I didn’t want to be left alone. I couldn’t.

“Oh, I’ll stay with you.” Boyd’s voice boomed behind me. The ringing stopped, and a lady greeted with “Hel—” before she was cut off. Boyd slapped his hand against the side of my head, causing me to lose my grip on the phone. It fell and shattered on the ground.

Earlier, when I didn’t know I was screaming, I could. Now that I needed to, no sound would come out.

Rocks cut my red sequined dress at my knees as I scrambled to get away.

I wouldn’t let him have me.

Not again.

The sound of laughter.

The ground pulled out from under me.

Strong hands grabbed my shoulders and whipped me around, so I had to face him. A cold evilness filled Boyd’s now black eyes. “You'll always belong to me, Sloan. You will not break up with me. You will not leave me. I won't allow it. You will never be rid of me, do you understand? Never. You’ll have to kill me first.”

I
COUGHED UNCONTROLLABLY AS
bright lights assaulted my vision and consciousness washed over me like coming up from a dive. I moved, making my numb legs bend, and I hit the ground with a thud. Then I heard screaming.

Mine.

I heard beeping.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

And my eyes focused.

“Sloan!” A scared, familiar voice yelled from a distance. She sounded so distorted. The sound of water filled my ears.

Everything was off kilter.

Hands on my shoulders.

White walls.

Late Night TV shows on the television on the opposite wall.

Tubes.

“Sloan!”

Ray.

It all came back, and I remembered.

Just a dream.

Just a nightmare.

Boyd hadn’t attacked me. Not like I remembered. Not like I dreamed. He was gone. Gone like Aaron.

Ray’s phone hadn’t broken. I’d used it to dial 9-1-1. I’d gotten Ray help. Then the storm hit.

And the storm hit hard.

Power lines snapped like twigs all around me, cutting off all lights at the falls, not that there were many to begin with.

I covered Ray as best I could, terrified to move him in case I hurt him worse.

By the time the ambulance came, I was drenched.

It took Ray away.

The sheriff came to talk to me.

I didn’t say anything to him. Not really. I just stood there as the rain pelted me and thunder assaulted the sky with my eyes firmly set on the falls and the water which ran beneath it. Lightning would light it up, but I saw nothing.

The rain slacked up for a few minutes around dawn, and the sun actually came up. It only lasted an hour before the weather moved in again. Such a strange storm. Such a strange day. The second storm was much worse than the first. The first was merely a prologue. This one… this one was supposed to last a while.

Aaron can’t be dead.

It drove me crazy.

“Sloan, talk to me.” I could hear her more clearly now. Apparently, I’d broken the surface of the water. Mackenzie Woodard. My friend. She was on her knees in front of me with her hands on my shoulders, shaking them slightly to get me to come back to her.

Her green eyes were puffy like I figured mine were. Poor Mackenzie. Only yesterday, she found out she had feelings for Ray—the same day I realized I had feelings for Aaron. Neither of us got to enjoy the bliss of first time love—or the excitement of a love that is brand new. But Mackenzie still had Ray, even if he hadn’t woken up yet. That was more than I could say for me.

“I’m okay.” I shifted, so she would let me go, and scooted back into my chair. The same hospital-grade blue ones I’d seen in every hospital I’d ever been in… ever.

Mackenzie stared at me for what seemed like forever before she lowered her head and shook it, so her loose red curls bounced around her face. Then she sighed and took her place in the seat opposite me, on the other side of Ray, and took his hand. “Same nightmare you’ve had all night?”

I nodded, took Ray’s hand in mine, and laid my head on the bedrail. “Same one.”

“I’m sorry. I wish the storm would stop sometime soon, so they could start looking for them.”

By “them,” Mackenzie obviously meant Aaron and Boyd, but I couldn’t care about Boyd. His neck could have broken when it hit the water for all I cared. The world would have been a better place without him. He’d hurt me more than I ever thought possible when he’d attacked me in my house five months ago, right before my birthday in December. Then to not only fake paralysis, but to stalk me, to point a gun at me, to try to kill me, again, shoot Ray, who was lucky it just grazed his head, and then he went over the cliff and into the falls with Aaron. No, if any person deserved death, it was Boyd Lawrence, the boy I used to love, and I prayed with everything I had for it to happen.

Aaron—I hoped he missed every boulder out there. I hoped he had pulled himself up alongside the creek bank and was holding on for help to come. Boyd? I hope he hit every rock, broke every bone, and was swept away from parts unknown.

The “Christian” in me balked at that idea. Though I hadn’t been a church-going person long, I knew I shouldn’t wish
that
on Boyd—no matter what he’d done to me and my friends. I knew I shouldn’t want him dead. I should want him alive and to change—to be saved—to go on to live happily and healthily until he died and went to Glory Land.

But…

I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

It would be so much easier if he were dead.

No more looking over my shoulder, waiting to see what he would do next. No more worrying about him. No more nightmares. It would be done.

Finished.

A tiny, tiny, itty bitty, smallest of small part of me felt bad for thinking like that.

“You sure you are okay?” Mackenzie brought me back to the hospital room instead of wherever it was my mind wandered to a million miles away.

I blinked a few times to get all of those thoughts out of my head and focused on Ray. Poor Ray. His blond hair had been cleaned by the nurses to get the dried blood out, but it was still darker than normal. His face was covered with black and blue marks, and I wanted more than anything for him to wake up.

It was ten in the morning. Only about twelve hours since the attack. The rain hadn’t let up. The creeks were flooding. And Ray hadn’t woken up.

Then again, maybe sleeping was for the best. This way it delayed having to tell him about his brother—Ray’s only family. My stomach knotted like I'd be sick again.

“Sloan…” Mackenzie reached over Ray and placed her hand on mine. She still wore her prom dress, beautiful and white. The nurses had forced me out of mine. It was muddy and nasty and ruined. Thankfully, they gave me some leftover light blue scrubs someone found in a locker— I didn’t want to know how they got there. They were a little big, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, and they were better than the alternative. “Hey, it’s gonna to be okay, alright? You’ll see. They’ll find Aaron. And Ray? He’s just getting his beauty sleep.” Lovingly, she looked down at his sweet face. “Not that he needs it.” She gently swept her fingers over the hair that fell over the bandage on his forehead.