Finding Forgiveness (Finding Series, Book 4)

By: Sloane Kennedy


Rita, what can I say? You are the best beta reader ever. EVER! I am truly humbled by how quickly you respond to my requests and you add a level of polish that I don’t think I could have found anywhere else. Thank you so much!

A big thank you to Missy and Chloe for their quick beta reads and an extra thank you to Chloe for being such a great PA.

Also, thanks to LJ and Beth for giving Roman his name – he wouldn’t have been the man he is without it.

Author’s Note

This book has multiple scenes that could be triggers for some readers. In order to avoid spoilers, these trigger warnings are mentioned prior to the table of contents. If you would like to see what these triggers are, please scroll back to just before the table of contents.

Chapter One

“What can I get you?”

Roman Blackwell took one look at the bartender’s cowboy hat and plaid shirt and guessed he wasn’t going to find his favorite brand of whiskey in a place like this so he simply said “Scotch, neat” and then turned around to study the surprisingly busy club. He’d been to more gay clubs than he could count but this one was on the top of his “what were they thinking?” list. There was the obligatory mirror ball above the dance floor but for the life of him, Roman couldn’t figure out how it jived with the honky-tonk country music blaring from the antiquated sound system or the dark wood-paneled walls that looked like something you’d find in the house of a 70’s sitcom family.

He’d had high hopes when the app on his phone had showed that a club called Red was within a few miles of his hotel in the not-so-busy downtown section of Missoula, Montana but when he’d arrived, he’d found that the app had left out a strategic apostrophe as well as an s and Red was actually Red’s. The sight of a few Harley Davidsons sitting out front among the half dozen pick-up trucks – two of which were attached to horse trailers – had been the deciding factor in whether he stayed or not. He’d always found bikers to be an interesting bunch when it came to random hook-ups because despite their testosterone-driven demeanors, tattoos and leather wear, they usually ended up being the guys that begged him the loudest to get them off when he had them pinned beneath him.

But despite the Harleys out front, he wasn’t seeing any men who looked like they belonged to the Hogs. What he did see was a lot of cowboy hats, bolo neck ties, blue jeans and cowboy boots in all sorts of textures and colors. And then there was the dancing…there wasn’t a pole or cage in sight and while there were a few guys who might as well have been fucking on the dance floor consider all the gyrating they were doing, Roman was waiting for the moment when the whole group broke out into a line dance.


Roman glanced to his right and saw a pretty little thing sizing him up. No way the emo guy had been there a minute ago because he certainly would have noticed the full, pouty lips, nose piercing and hint of guy liner framing bright blue eyes. A shot of lust went through Roman and he shifted his weight so he could give the guy his full attention.

“Buy me a drink?” the guy asked as he let his long fingers rub over his hip and down his thigh.

The bartender slid Roman’s drink in front of him but instead of ordering the guy a drink, he took a swig of his own. Emo Guy pouted prettily but didn’t seem too disappointed because he sidled up even closer to Roman. But when he placed his hand on Roman’s thigh and let it travel towards Roman’s dick, Roman grabbed his wrist.

“Where is he?” Roman asked coolly as he took in the leather pants and vest the guy was wearing. There was no doubt the guy was linked to the still absent bikers but he definitely wasn’t one himself.


Roman turned the guy’s arm over and pointed to the tattoo on the guy’s forearm. “Cooter,” Roman said with a chuckle as he read the name tattooed beneath the words Property of.

“He’s playing,” Emo Guy said, though from the smile on his face, whatever or whoever Cooter was playing with didn’t seem to bother him. “Want to go watch?”

While Roman liked fucking bikers, he wasn’t really interested in brawling with them over some boy toy that had so far only managed to get him half hard. But curiosity got the best of him so he gave the guy a brief nod and then swallowed the rest of his drink. Emo Guy took his hand and began leading him through the still sedate crowd of cowboys. Several of them openly stared at him and a few even sent him inviting looks but he ignored them. As they drew closer to the far side of the club where a red curtain separated the main room from what he assumed was a private area, Roman could hear hearty laughs and deep, rumbling voices.