Page 30 of Protected by the Sinner (The Sinner’s Touch #2)

I’m already in the car, on my way back to the hospital, when I get a message from Roman.

Roman: She’s awake.

I close my eyes and lean my head against the back of the seat as the driver navigates through a Boston that’s only just beginning to wake up. I haven’t slept in over twenty-four hours, and even though I’m used to running on very little rest, I need to clear my mind.

I’ve always thought of myself as a cold, unshakable man, but even for me, the last few hours have been a bit much.

The driver parks in front of the hospital, and Roman meets me at the entrance, flanked by two bodyguards.

“How is she?”

“I think it’s best if you ask the doctor yourself.”

My heart starts to race. “Did something happen while I was gone?”

“All I know is that she woke up, because the private nurse you hired to stay with her came out into the hallway looking for the doctor.”

I give a small nod and head inside the hospital.

I hand Roman the folder containing the information about the cult.

“I need you to find out everything you can about this. Use whatever means necessary, but bring me answers today. And try to get in touch with Amber’s sister, Elodie. I want to speak to her.”

Even though I know I have to go see her, I slow my pace as I reach the hallway leading to her room.

Hesitation isn’t like me, but I don’t know what to do, so I sit for a moment.

With my elbows resting on my knees, I rub my hands over my face, as if that could somehow clear my mind and help me find a solution.

I want to hate her—because the betrayal burns through me like acid. But no matter how hard I try, I fail every single time. And what Ruslan just told me only deepens the confusion.

I try to imagine the horrors she must’ve witnessed—and I can’t.

Like my mentor said, only someone who’s lived through it could understand what it does to a girl to be raised knowing she is never going to be anything more than a sexual object, passed from one man to another.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see someone approaching. When I turn to check, I recognize the doctor I brought in specifically to treat her, the same one I spoke to yesterday.

He doesn’t look particularly calm, which makes me stand up quickly.

“Good morning, Mr. LeBlanc.”

“Good morning. I heard she’s awake.”

“Yes, but there’s something I need to tell you. When she woke up, Miss Martin didn’t remember anything. Not even her name.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sometimes this can happen. She experienced a traumatic event. The fear of dying may have caused her brain to erase the memories.”

“But you said you checked for brain damage.”

“I did, and there was none. But in your girlfriend’s case, I believe we’re dealing with an emotional block. Was there a fight between you two?”

“No.” It’s true. She didn’t even know I’d found out about the betrayal. Or...did she? I can’t be sure. “Is there a chance she’s faking it?”

He gives me a strange look and instead of answering, asks a question of his own. “Would she have any reason to lie, Mr. LeBlanc? Any reason to believe she’s in danger?”

I instantly understand what he’s thinking. And I know that if I don’t get ahead of it, there’s no way he’ll allow her to be discharged under my supervision. “No. I just don’t know much about amnesia and wanted to understand how we can be sure it’s real.”

“This isn’t my first case with this diagnosis, so I brought in one of our staff psychiatrists to evaluate her. He confirmed it. So yes, her memory loss is very real. Your girlfriend doesn’t remember anything.”

“Should I ask her about her past?”

“The specialist will be able to guide you better, but in the cases I’ve seen, the best approach is to let the memories come back naturally.

I believe within a few days or weeks—at most—her memory will return, since there’s no physical trauma but rather an emotional block.

In any case, she’ll need care and must not be subjected to stress. ”

“I can provide that.”

I’ll have to keep my distance from her—because with Amber, I can’t control my emotions. Together, we swing from zero to a hundred in seconds. We’re volatile and reckless, caught in the same chaos of desire that’s always consumed us.

“In terms of material needs, I have no doubt,” he says, clearly aware of who I am, “but what about giving Miss Amber a peaceful recovery so she can carry the pregnancy as she should?”

He just crossed a line.

I take a step toward him. “Let’s get one thing straight. You were chosen to care for her because I was told you’re the best at what you do. But before she’s your patient, Amber is my woman, and she’s carrying my child. I’ll protect her above all else.”

And it’s only after I say those words that I realize the fog inside me has cleared.

Amber won’t get a second chance to deceive me, but I’ll protect her—and our child.

Even if being with her goes against everything I believe in . . . she’s mine now.