Page 44 of Protected by the Sinner (The Sinner’s Touch #2)

“You’re insane to trust that bitch.”

The punch I land knocks out what’s left of his front teeth.

“And you’re too damn stupid to know when to shut your mouth.”

I take a step back to admire my work, and I like what I see. I could’ve had him killed. It’s been a long time since I got involved in the more . . . practical side of things with my enemies, but I felt like I needed to do this one myself. Closure, in my parents’ name.

“When I came to meet you, I thought it would be more fun,” I say, watching him spit blood.

I walk over to where my knife case is and choose one. His eyes widen in fear.

“But I’m bored out of my mind,” I continue. “So let’s just get this over with. I need to get back to my family.”

“My uncle’s going to kill you and your bloodline.”

“No, he’s not. In fact, your uncle is hunting you down right now.

It’s over, you son of a bitch. He knows about the thefts.

And as for my bloodline, the baby Amber is carrying?

That was a bad time to bring her up. Maybe in another life, you’d have learned to keep your mouth shut, because you just reminded me that my child will never meet his grandparents because of you. ”

The sharp blade slides clean across his throat, and I watch as the expression of sheer terror becomes permanently frozen on his face.

It’s done, Mom and Dad.

You can rest now.

Later that night

I stop by my office to shower and change. As much as I made Amber aware of the world I live in during our talk, I’ll do everything I can to keep her from ever putting an image to my words.

The home we’re building has to be sacred.

This morning, she asked me—direct as ever, the way this new Amber is—whether we’ll stay in New Orleans after the baby is born.

To be honest, I hadn’t thought about it. Woman and child . . . all of it still feels new. The idea of a real home. A family—something I’ve only ever known in a twisted, broken form.

Aurellie was a good mother to me, but I don’t think I’ll ever forget that she lied to me for all the years we were together. Without knowing, I was raised by the man who murdered my real parents. Subjected to his cruelty.

A voice in my head still says that if she had really loved me, she would’ve taken me far away from him.

But I don’t want to dwell on the past. I can’t undo the shit that happened to me, but I can do everything differently for our child.

A few minutes later, I get home and find her in one of the rooms on the second floor.

Not all of the rooms are furnished—I never brought anyone here. This place was just somewhere for me to crash.

This particular room is two doors down from ours and practically empty.

I watch her as she walks back and forth, touching the walls, not realizing I’m standing there. Then she looks up at the ceiling, where the left side slopes down diagonally.

“Daydreaming?”

She turns and smiles. “Imagining what color the wallpaper should be. I want this to be the baby’s room. The doctor in Boston said we’ll find out the gender soon.”

I walk over and try to see our future through her eyes.

I want this. Amber, our baby, and if I’m lucky, a little peace.

“Do you have a preference?” I ask.

“No, I’ll love either one. But if I could choose, I’d want a boy. One who could defend himself like you.”

“Why?”

“You know why. My father’s not the only sick pedophile in the world.”

I’ve already told her I have the names of the other elders, but she hasn’t asked what I plan to do about them.

“Even if it’s a girl, I’m sure she’ll be a fighter, just like her mom.” I lift her into my arms and sit in the only armchair in the room. “I don’t want you to worry about that. No matter the gender, I’ll protect our child. I’d give my life if I had to.”

“I don’t want that. Either of you in danger.”

“No one’s completely safe, Amber. The best we can do is reduce the risks.”

I rest my chin on her head, thinking about what I need to say next. She needs to know who she’s really with, but it’s not something I like to admit.

I can’t ask her to marry me without giving her a deeper glimpse into the man she’s saying yes to.

“Today, I killed the man who ordered my parents’ execution.”

She lifts her head and looks at me, but she doesn’t seem horrified. “So it’s over, then?”

“The revenge for my family’s death, yes. But what I didn’t tell you is that I also killed my adoptive father a few years ago.”

“Why are you telling me these things, Beau?”

“To give you the chance to walk away—if that’s what you want.”

“Why would I do that? Because you killed two monsters?”

I don’t know whether she realizes those aren’t the only deaths on my record. “You heard what I said? I killed my adoptive father.”

“No, I heard you say you killed two sick bastards—one of whom murdered your real parents and robbed you of growing up with your family. If you think that makes you a bad person, then I’m worse—because if I had the chance, I’d kill my biological father without blinking.”

After she falls asleep, I kiss her forehead and go down to the library on the first floor.

I’m waiting for Roman to confirm we’re ready to wipe the six elders off the face of the Earth.

After I found out who they were, everything started to make sense.

Especially the part about them preaching against technology inside the cult walls.

If the members had access to cell phones, they could ask for help.

If they had internet access, they’d eventually see one of the “elders” in a headline.

It’s unbelievable what fanaticism can do. It’s like these people’s brains were rewired.

Knowledge is power.

Ruslan used to say that to me all the time.

Ignorance is easier to manipulate. By keeping their followers in the dark, they protected their own identities and reduced the risk of being exposed.

The time has come for each one of them to pay. Amber’s father will be last. He’s earned a special kind of punishment.

But before we go after any of them, we need to get the girls out.

The elders meet every Wednesday, and as tempting as it is to burn the whole place down with them inside, there are still women working in the kitchen—and of course, the girls.

We don’t know exactly how many, so Roman thinks it’s safer to raid the place on a day when only Tobias is present, not during the six-man gatherings—since those are the days the abuse is at its worst.

They have orders not to touch Amber’s father yet.

I don’t care that he never got around to abusing his own daughters—or whether he “protected” them from the others. For me, the intent alone is enough.

In my world, there’s no forgiveness for pedophiles, but it’s even more despicable when it comes from someone who was supposed to protect them.

When that self-proclaimed holy man finally meets me, he’ll wish for a quick death, just like the others.