Page 80 of Protected By the Sinner

“No kind of ambush?”

“What? No! You’ve seen my sister. She’s a terrible liar. Desperation was the only thing that gave her the guts to go through with it.”

“How did you escape?”

“That I can’t tell you. It has nothing to do with your situation with my sister.”

Someone helped her—obviously. Probably the same guy who tried to cut off the call.

“You said Amber remembers me. When can she talk to me?”

“The doctor advised against forcing her memories. So if I do allow it—”

“I don’t need your permission to talk to my own sister.”

“Well, I disagree. As I was saying, if I let you two talk, you can’t bring up any of this. No mafia, no recent drama.”

“You’d never hurt her.”

“No.”

“And yet you made me believe you would.”

“Would you have told me the truth if you didn’t think she was in danger?”

“Probably not.”

“What are you doing in Italy?”

“The Sicilians are after us. More after me, really. When you found her at that motel in Richardson, they already knew you were coming for her and told her to stick to the original plan—stay close to you. But I ran, and since then, she’s only had to worry about herself.”

It doesn’t take me long to connect the dots. “She stayed with me because she knew she’d be safe.”

“If you really believe that, Mr. LeBlanc, then you don’t know my sister at all. I told her to stay with you, said she’d be protected—but I could’ve taken her with me if I thought she was in danger.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

“Because I know my sister better than I know myself. I saw it right away—she fell for you, almost instantly. We both have Romani souls. We could be happy anywhere. But Amber wanted to stay with you.”

“If you think that, then maybe you don’t know her as well as you think. She doesn’t want to be a Romani. She wants to be a daisy.”

I hang up the phone, my decision already made.

The truth is, I knew which path I’d take long before Elodie filled in the blanks.

If what I need to do to keep Amber by my side is give her the chance to bloom like a daisy, then that’s exactly what I’ll do.

Chapter 36

I hear a bird singing in the distance as I spread more blueberry jam on my sweet potato and pecan waffle. I’m not sure if this is my first time ever eating this, but I think it is—because I doubt I’d forget something this delicious. I think I just found a new addiction.

Beau told me it’s one of the region’s signature dishes.

“How long are we staying in New Orleans?” I ask.

We’re having breakfast—or I am, since Beau seems more interested in watching me than eating. It makes me nervous, and I feel the need to fill the silence. I’ve noticed he looks at me a lot, like he’s carrying around secret thoughts about us.

Did we do simple things like this—normal day-to-day stuff—before the accident? I don’t know why, but it doesn’t quite match the picture I have of him, this domestic scene.