Page 43 of Protected by the Sinner (The Sinner’s Touch #2)

“You just remembered that now?”

She nods. “When you said the word ‘choice.’ ”

“Tell me.”

“In the beginning, right after we escaped the cult, our plan was just to hide. We thought if we stayed away from Texas, we’d be safe. Then one day, a few months ago, we were watching TV and we saw him .”

“Who, Amber?”

“One of the elders. He was giving an interview. Wearing regular clothes, like any man. Suit, tie, white shirt. But we were sure it was him.”

“What do you mean giving an interview?” I don’t want to pressure her, but what she’s telling me goes against everything I’ve uncovered about the cult so far. Supposedly, even the elders live in isolation.

“At first, we thought we were losing our minds because back on the compound, they said TV and all technology were evil, works of the devil. So how could he be dressed like any other man, walking among the people they used to call impure?”

“Are you sure it was one of the elders?”

“Yes. We did some digging and found out that the man we knew as one of the cult leaders is actually a very wealthy businessman in Texas, with a normal life—wife and kids.”

“Holy shit!”

“Over the years—except for my father—we saw the faces of the other four at events, and one even appeared in a celebrity magazine. That’s when we realized they were living double lives.

No one had any idea what those so-called respectable men were doing to the girls—basically children—inside the cult compound. ”

Now several pieces begin to fall into place. They weren’t just running from a bunch of cult lunatics. They were running from people who could still find them—even out here in the real world.

“So what did you two do?”

“We tried to report it to the police using the online tip line, but nothing happened. I think it was because we didn’t have any proof.

They either didn’t believe us or looked the other way.

I mean, can you imagine someone claiming that a rich man, a CEO of a multinational company, is a cult member who has sex with underage girls, calling them his wives?

Especially when we did everything anonymously. ”

“Why anonymously?”

She looks down. “Fear,” she says, clearly ashamed.

I pull her back into my arms. “There’s nothing wrong with being afraid, Amber. You were raised to be afraid. That’s how those sick bastards get followers—by planting fear in their minds, making them believe there’s no salvation unless they follow the rules.”

“How do you know that?”

“I’ve been doing some research ever since I found out you escaped from a cult.” What I don’t tell her is that this started before her first nightmare, before she even told me about her memories. “Why didn’t you go to the press?”

“We were afraid it wouldn’t go anywhere. And worse—if the elders felt cornered and the police didn’t act fast enough, they’d vanish with the girls. Kill them. We wanted to save them. Elodie had a plan, but I can’t remember what it was.”

“Don’t force yourself. You’re doing great.”

“But I want to remember. Every day that passes, innocent girls are still suffering at their hands, Beau.”

“I’d like to know the names of those five men. Can you tell me who they are?”

“I don’t remember. Just their faces,” she says, distressed. “But Elodie must know. I remember we were planning to expose them.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. But I’m sure there was a plan. God, I need to talk to my sister. She’ll give me the names—and the missing pieces. Elodie will be here in a few days, but she said she can’t meet me in Louisiana. Why?”

Because she thinks the Sicilian mafia is still after her, but I can’t say that to Amber—it would trigger an avalanche of memories.

“I’d like you to let me handle this,” I say.

“What are you going to do?”

“Save the girls, just like you two planned.”

“How?”

“You don’t need to know the details. But I give you my word—they’ll pay.”

I’m going to kill every last one of those bastards.

The Next Day

After everything I found out yesterday, I wanted to go after the men who call themselves elders right away. Amber’s right: with every day that passes, those little girls are still suffering in their hands.

After she went to sleep, I called Roman, and we spent the night digging into why there’s never been a serious investigation into the cult. I think I’ve found the answer: the authorities looked the other way because of who’s involved.

I called Elodie early this morning, and she gave me the names of the five members. The sixth is their father—Tobias.

Amber was right. These are powerful men, above suspicion.

Two businessmen, a celebrity dentist, and two politicians—one of them a senator. Fathers and grandfathers with picture-perfect families.

Monsters in human form.

Garbage I intend to wipe off the face of the Earth.

Elodie returned to the U.S. alone. Looks like things with her Italian savior are over.

She told me she wants to meet her sister in Boston, even though I assured her she’s no longer in danger in New Orleans.

How can I be so sure?

Because Angelo Brambilla is currently in a warehouse, waiting for me—or rather, waiting for me to arrange his meeting with the devil. Which I fully intend to do soon.

There’s no room left for that bastard in my mind. It’s already fully consumed by my plan to hunt down the cult leaders.

Angelo is already in the past.

He’s a dead man—he just doesn’t know it yet.