Page 66 of Protected By the Sinner
“What happened to the cult?”
“That farm still exists.”
I look at him, already thinking two steps ahead.
“Not for long. Not if I have anything to say about it.”
Chapter 29
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?”
