Page 34 of Protected by the Sinner (The Sinner’s Touch #2)

I’m wondering whether I should go after her, about an hour after she went to lie down, when the screaming starts.

At first, I think maybe one of the flight attendants is watching a movie in the back of the plane, but when I see Roman get up, I know I didn’t imagine it.

I run to the suite she’s in, a million thoughts rushing through my head at once—and not one of them is good.

“Amber.”

I see her sitting on the bed, thrashing around, and I swear, even if I live a hundred years, I’ll never forget the look of horror on her face.

“Amber, it’s just a nightmare.”

More screaming, this time calling out for her sister.

“Amber, shhhh . . . it’s okay. No one’s going to hurt you.”

I pull her into my arms, and she keeps struggling, fighting against the restraints of my hold.

“Hey, it’s okay. I promise. Stop, or you’ll end up hurting yourself.”

Little by little, she starts to calm down, but the crying doesn’t stop. Her eyes open, and I can see she is fully awake, but she doesn’t try to pull away.

I lie down and bring her with me, my hands gently stroking her back. “It’s okay. They can’t get to you. I give you my word.”

“You know who they are?”

“I do. You remembered?”

She nods.

“All of it?” I ask gently.

“No. Just the past.”

“How far back?”

“Until the day we had to run.”

“Tell me.”

“Why? Didn’t you say you already knew about them?”

Because I want the details—so I can kill them one by one.

“I don’t know the full story, and I want you to tell me. That way I can protect you—and our baby.”

She tightens her grip on my arms. “Are they still after me?”

Fuck the doctor. I can’t keep her in the dark completely.

“Judging by the way you were living when I first met you, I’d say yes.”

“And what if they take me, Beau? They’ll want the baby, especially if it’s a girl. I remembered they used to hurt the girls.”

Just the thought of them touching her—or our baby—drives me insane. “That’s not going to happen, Amber. But I do want you to tell me what you remember.”

“I have a sister, don’t I? Where is she?”

“I can’t answer that. Ever since the accident, I’ve been trying to find her. I thought you two still kept in touch, but I didn’t find anything among your things that could lead me to her.”

“Elodie.”

“Yes. Roman’s looking for her.”

“I don’t remember the last time we spoke. Just distant memories. That part came back.”

“What part?”

“The day we left the compound. And the things that happened there. My sister explaining why we’d always have to run. But when those memories come back, the images of us . . . I think we were really young. I never told you anything about that before?”

“No.”

“Why not? You said I used to travel the country with you, so I guess our relationship was serious, right? I mean . . .”

“What?”

“I’m pregnant with your child, and you don’t seem shocked. If I didn’t mean anything to you, you’d probably think I got pregnant on purpose.”

“That never even crossed my mind.” And it’s the truth. Despite all my trust issues—and in her case, they were warranted—I never thought Amber had tried to trap me with a baby.

I feel the softness of her hair against my fingertips, and I breathe in her unique scent.

The Amber from before the accident drove me wild, but this version of her—fragile, unguarded—is reaching places in me I didn’t even know existed.

“I want our baby,” I say. “Neither of us has a family. You still have your sister, but I’ve got no one. Maybe we can give our child a better life than we had.”

She lifts her head from my chest. “Are you serious?”

“I am.”

“Is that . . . a marriage proposal?”

Shit.

“It’s . . . an agreement to stay together without an expiration date.”

She jumps off my lap, pulling away on the bed. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know how I used to be, but I think this new version of me talks too much. I misread what you said.”

“Amber, right now you’re confused and don’t remember anything about us. This isn’t the best time to make decisions.”

“Right. I wasn’t thinking clearly. Either way, I wouldn’t marry you without thinking it through. I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” she says, blushing. “But I do have a question. If you’re not scared about the baby and our relationship wasn’t casual, why didn’t I ever tell you about my past?”

I choose honesty. “I don’t think either of us is very good at trusting.”

“How can that be? We shared a bed for months! Is there any greater trust than that?”

I don’t have an answer for that, so I change the subject. “Tell me about that place where you lived.”

“It’s not a nice story, I think.”

“Neither is mine.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’re focusing on you right now. We’ll talk about me some other time.”

“I don’t know if I can remember everything in the right order, because it’s all coming back in bits and pieces.”

“That’s fine.”

“My mother was a Romani. I think she was from somewhere in Spain. I’m not sure, because she told a lot of stories and we were really young when she died.”

“Natural causes?”

“What do you mean by that?”

I hold back what I’m really thinking so I don’t make things worse. After reading Ruslan’s report, I saw he had sugarcoated the horrors happening inside the cult.

According to the woman he spoke to, the boys were killed at age ten, just before puberty, so they wouldn’t compete with the older elders for the attention of the girls.

The women, after turning thirty, suddenly vanished. The explanation was always that they’d been sent to a different branch in another state—but I’m pretty sure they were killed too.

Those sick bastards were obsessed with preteen girls, and once the women had given birth enough times, they were no longer useful.

“We don’t know what she died of. We just went to the funeral.”

She shivers, and I reach out and take her hand.

There must be some kind of explanation for this compulsion I have to touch her. I think the only reason I wouldn’t touch Amber is if I were tied down. With her, I’m constantly torn between reason and instinct.

“What was your nightmare about, just now?” I try to change the subject, remembering what the doctor said—that she should be protected from strong emotions.

“About the day we ran away. We didn’t plan anything. We didn’t have a dime. We just took off running.”

“Why?”

“I caught them . . . hurting one of my sister’s friends. The girl was just a little older than Elodie and had just gotten married. Everyone had to marry at fifteen. But I had no idea what really went on inside those houses. My sister was next. We knew we had to get out.”

She starts crying again.

“That’s enough. We don’t need to talk about it anymore. I’ll look into it myself. Remembering won’t do you any good.”

I pull her close again, and this time, she lets me—her arms wrapping around my neck.

In just a few minutes, I hear her breathing deepen.

I shouldn’t feel this good holding her like this. But I do. I feel complete, even knowing it might be foolish to forgive what she did.

On the other hand, I can’t stop thinking about what Ruslan said.

Why would a girl with no criminal record get involved with the Sicilian mafia?

Amber is guarded. She learned how to protect herself. So why the hell would she come after me, risking death?

There are still pieces of this story I don’t know. Maybe I need to find her sister to get the answers.

She shifts and snuggles in closer.

I toe off my shoes and settle into bed, pulling a blanket over us to keep her warm from the A/C.

I shouldn’t have pushed her to talk about the past. There’s no reason to stir things up. She’s already confused enough because of the amnesia.

Either way, I already know plenty about the cult now. Roman found the missing pieces of the puzzle.

Their mother, Estrella De León, really was a Romani. She fell in love with an American missionary who brought her to the United States: Tobias Cohen.

Unfortunately, she found out too late that he was a sick man. He’s the founder and leader of the Children of the Six Enlightened [9] cult.

These days, it has only about sixty members. Small for a group like that, though it used to have three hundred, according to the report.

I don’t care what they preach or what they tell themselves to justify their atrocities. In my mind, I’ve already judged and sentenced them. The six elders are living on borrowed time.

I can’t erase her past—but I can give her a future without fear.

That part’s already decided. Now, I need to find out what really happened between her and the Italians . . . and then end Angelo’s miserable existence once and for all. By the time our baby is born, there won’t be any loose ends left.