Forgiven: The Blood Bayou Romance Saga, #2

All Rights Reserved

Written by Jordan Leger in 2018

Rewritten by Jordan Leger for ebook and print in 2024

No part of this book can be altered, sold, duplicated, that includes electronical, or used in any manner without written permission from the author, except the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, and or events are a product of the authors imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to an actual person, living or dead, or actual events, locations, or business establishments is purely coincidental.

Warning

This book contains strong mature language, adult content, and dark tendencies that may bother some readers. Read at your discretion.

It is intended for mature readers of 18+

Dedication

To who’s had a crush in their past and was left with a broken heart. This is for you. May true love be just around the corner. And if you love hot guys and some intense crime thrown into the mix, here is your book, loves.

Acknowledgements

To my editor: As always, thank you A!

To my Proofreaders and Beta-readers: Ladies, here’s a huge shout out to you! Thank you for all of the advice for this one. I loved all the feedback. It was wonderful to know that I could make y’all smile, get angry, and just go awe from the characters of Forgiven.

To my readers: Thank you for joining me in this journey. Each line I wrote sitting in my quiet corner, I thought of who would read it. I loved writing this story and I truly hope you enjoyed it also.

Lastly, to my own crush all those years ago. You’re forgiven, jerk.

Books by Jordan Leger

Blood Bayou Saga

Crushed

Forgiven

Exposed

Redemption

Inconceivable

Ma Famille

A Mini Romance Series

My Eyes Saw You: Samantha & Colton

My Eyes Saw Her: Susanne & Trey

My Eyes Saw Him: Sandra & Shane

The Intuition Series (an Erotic Series)

Virtue

Illusion

Innocence

Purity

Honor

Devoted

The Sacred Duet

Misplaced

Replaced

Sacrifices Duet

Choice

Chosen

The Holiday Collection (All Novellas)

Frozen Lens (A New Year’s Novella)

Connected Hearts (A Sweetheart Romance Novella)

The Transitioning Series (Paranormal Romance)

Awakening

Plighted

Wedded

The Searching Series (Dark Novellas)

Trespassed

Playlist

Heaven by Kane Brown

Forgiveness by Enrique Iglesias & Nicky Jam

Take Your Time by Sam Hunt

Perfect by Ed Sheersn

Be Mine by Ofenbach

What if by Kane Brown

Brown Eyed Girl by Van Morrison

I’m Comin’ Over by Chris Young

Table of Content

Title Page

Author’s Rights

Dedication

Acknowledgements

Books by Jordan

Playlist

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

About the Author

Prologue

Then to Now

From when I was a little girl, I remembered playing hide and seek with my siblings and the Corbin boys. Emeric Corbin would always find me in my secret hiding spot.

When we played tag, he always made me it.

When we all played chase, Em chased me. And when he caught me, he held me longer than he should have.

He made me like him.

Love him.

When I was twelve, I dreamed of him and me skinny dipping in the pool of my backyard. I was such a silly kid then.

One late night when I was thirteen, Emeric had tossed a pebble at my window to wake me. I wished he’d been a knight and would have kissed me once he climbed up to my window. That didn’t happen. He just wanted some handheld game back he’d let me play with earlier that day.

When I turned fourteen, that summer I sat at my open window and ogled him shirtless as he and his brothers mowed their grass every other Saturday. It was the highlight of my day then.

I turned fifteen, Em turned seventeen. He grew up. He dated. A lot. I tried to stop sneaking peeks his way—God I really did try.

But not hard enough.

When I turned sixteen, I drooled for Emeric Corbin. I drew hearts on my notebooks and had a red cut out of a heart taped inside my locker. It was our heart that he didn’t know about. Well, until he saw it by accident.

One day he kissed me.

Then broke my heart.

Pushed me away.

Then he left.

Em left me.

Now I’m home for two weeks. He’s here. Emeric. Looking better than the boy that broke my heart years ago.

I never saw her as a girlfriend. She was a friend—just a damn girl that lived next door. The prettiest girl I’d ever seen. We hung out ever since I could remember.

I was too old for her.

She was too young for me.

But damn she confused me—my head. My heart.

We had too much history between us.

I didn’t know myself when I was near Piper.

I didn’t want to hurt her again.

I left Kinley early to protect myself. To protect her from me.

Now I’m back. She’s back. And dammit, I can’t stay away from her. I want Piper Temple.

Every part of her.

Wasn’t that the most sweetest load of crap you’ve ever heard?  I hid in the shadows long enough and saw entirely too damn much. It was time to ruffle some feathers once more. Let’s see who remembers…me. Us.

But only when I am ready to strike, and they will least expect it.

Chapter One

A week ago, I was told to take time off from my job. It wasn’t a request. It was forced upon me. A day later, I was packing up to drive south. Home—to Louisiana and the heart of Cajun country.

A place that I ran from the first chance I got.

My parents on the other hand, were excited to have me home for a few weeks. It was something I wasn’t looking forward to, though. I had been away from there too long, living my life.

They say the past has a way of catching up with you. Letting you know it was always there, lurking.

No matter how far I ran, there was no way to avoid it.

I could have chosen to fly to Vagas, go to Cape Cod, or even some exotic tropical destination, but I hadn’t been home since I started working at Boxten Law Group.

Boxten was run by women, and its founder was a woman, of course. I thought at first when I got accepted that I was making a mistake. It was never a good thing to work under such feminine conditions.

Way too much estrogen flowing freely if you asked me.

Not to exaggerate, but we did have men working there also. The brave ones, anyway. There was always a cat scratching contest going on weekly. That was mainly on Fridays when the week had gone on too long, and the women let it be known.

My job was the assistant to the boss's boss, the owner and founder of the firm, Rebecca Boxten. I’d been working under her for two years now and I was damn good at it.

I quickly learned about the evils in the world. Our law firm took cases of abused women and children. We saw it all, trafficking, rape, neglect, and murder cases that were fragile and some so heartbreaking that they stained your memory for life. I was young, yes, but I developed a steel spine.

One case in particular left me having nightmares. I woke nightly believing that a masked man would come for me in my sleep, haul me to a nearby alley, rape me repeatedly, cut a symbol in my chest, and leave me for dead. The man I spoke of was Raymond Gase. He was now serving life in prison. His wife, though, was free, not charged with any crime. The horrid part was that she knew what he had done.

The case had done me in. No other had consumed so much of me before then. When I went into the office, my coworkers would ask if I was okay.

I wasn’t.

I lied and told them I was fine.

I was offered therapy but turned that down flat. No way was I going to sit in front of a stranger and pour out my feelings to them for that person to analyze me.

Yes, there were probably more cases far worse than the Gase trial. But how could Mrs. Gase know and do nothing?

Simple. The woman was blind to the fact it was going on and didn't want to see what was clearly in her face, or she’d been abused herself by her own husband.

When the trial was over, I went to her home one afternoon to ask a few questions. I didn't have to, I wanted to. The thing that gave her away was what occurred after he was sentenced.

See, I heard her.

She had mumbled off under her breath, Now, I can finally stop.

So, I confronted her. I needed to know why she helped him. What kind of mind set she had? The woman was as sick as her goddamn husband.

My nightmares got the best of me after that day. I wasn’t wrong with what I had done to her. I couldn’t let her go free.

I just couldn’t.

I recorded our conversation. A few minutes into it, I told her what I’d done and even went as far as to show her my cellphone recording. The woman continued to confess before me. She was now locked away in an all-women’s prison for her part in the acts.

I pulled my Chevy Silverado from its parking bay. I hadn’t driven my boy in over a year. The streets of New York weren’t really made for large trucks, and the parking was hell. I had to pick up a smaller, used vehicle just for getting around town, but mostly, I walked where I had to go.

But today, I was going to try to enjoy this trip, starting now, and put my work behind me. No stress, no thoughts of cases, just the open road ahead of me.

My engine roared as I pulled into light traffic at four in the morning. My bags were tossed in the backseat from earlier. With my hair up in a ponytail and my brother, Broch’s, baseball cap on, I lowered my windows and took in the breeze blowing through my cab. Smudge sat next to me with her nose up in the air, sniffing the morning air.

About twenty-four hours later, I’d be home. Back to my roots— to the smells of home and Mama’s cooking that I’d missed so much the past five years.

I missed the warm summers, cold winters, and the colors of fall. Most of all, I missed my parents and old friends. It took me a while to talk about home out loud. When my parents would visit, I felt as if I didn’t need to return.

However, I was going to make the best out of this forced vacation.

They say you can take the girl out of Louisiana, but you cannot take Louisiana out of the girl.

I could almost see the welcome sign in the back of my mind as I crossed into our small town, ‘Kinley Welcomes You.’

Chapter Two

The heat here down south was unrelenting. When Mr. and Mrs. Temple asked for some volunteers for house painters, my brothers and I were available.

At least that was what my mother had told them.

I had only been back home for about six months and working out the details of my new life. My place I’d bought would be ready in about a week or so. Until then, I was crashing at my parents’, which were neighbors to the Temples.

Instead of hiring someone or getting some teenager to help paint, they asked their friends to come over for a crawfish boil. One thing led to another. And there you go. Six of us guys were now painting their three-story house while my parents visited with the Temples.

It was motherfucking hot standing on a ladder painting. I hadn’t done manual labor in years. Yeah, I was fit, but I didn’t get that way by painting a damn house. I worked out, and I was a bouncer by choice three nights a week at the bar in town. Not to mention, my day job kept me fit too.

Sweat trickled down my forehead into my eyes. The shit burned from being salty. I set the paint roller down and wiped my face with the bottom of my white t-shirt. Just then, I heard a voice. I looked down to my left and saw a young blonde carrying water bottles.

Mr. Temple asked that I bring water to y’all, she said, smiling while blushing. She had a little twang to her tone that was cute.

I lowered my shirt and made my way down from the ladder to where she was standing. I took a bottle.

My brother, Alex, who was two years younger than me, came over for one. He grinned at her.

I popped the cap open, thanked her, then drank the whole thing. She handed me another. Before I walked away, I thanked her again, then left the two of them to flirt.

She was pretty, but not my type. Alex was more into her than I was. I looked up at my spot above from the ground next to the ladder as he made his move on her. Little fucker. I chuckled.

Not sure how much time had passed. Another hour perhaps? I finished with the side I