Page 75 of Protected By the Sinner
“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.
