Page 10 of Until You Break

As I grip the cross around my neck and tears slip down the side of my face, I realize Dominic was right the first time we met.

Wearein Hell.

Chapter six

His Sinner

Dominic stirs, his swolleneye cracks open, his gaze unfocused for a moment before he finds me sitting on the other side of the bars, waiting. He shifts, wincing, clearly in pain, but even in this state, he manages a faint smirk.

“Morning, Little Sinner,” he rasps, his voice rough and hoarse.

“Morning,” I whisper back, forcing a small smile at the familiar nickname, though the lump in my throat makes it hard.

I can’t stop thinking about what I heard yesterday, the pieces of information they let slip while they shoved me through that nightmare of a shower. The thought of telling him feels like a weight pressing on my chest, but he deserves to know.

I take a deep breath, looking him in the eyes, even though it hurts to see him like this. “Dominic… they said someone’s coming today… For you.”

His expression shifts, a flicker of acceptance, crossing his face. He sighs, leaning back against the bars, his gaze unfocused. “Yeah. Figured it was coming.”

“You can’t go with them,” I say, my voice barely more than a whisper. The idea of him being taken—of losing the one person who’s kept me grounded in this nightmare—is too much. “We… we need to figure something out. There has to be a way—”

He looks back at me, his expression softening, a trace of sadness in his eyes. “Aria, I’ll be fine. You just… you stay strong, okay? Whatever happens to me, I’m getting you out of here. I promise.”

My chest tightens, and I feel the hot sting of tears building in my eyes. “But what if… what if you can’t? What if—”

He reaches a bruised hand through the bars, fingers curling around mine in a weak, but reassuring grip.

“Hey. Don’t count me out just yet. I’ve survived worse than this, and I’m not about to let some assholes in masks be the end of me. They think they can break me, but they don’t know who they’re dealing with.”

I manage a small, sad smile, clinging to his hand like it’s the only solid thing I have left. “You’re stubborn, you know that?”

“Damn right,” he says, a faint glimmer of humor in his voice.

My heart aches at his words, the quiet determination in them. “Dominic… please. Don’t give up.”

“I’m not giving up. I’m just… playing the hand I’ve got. But enough about this. Let’s talk about something else. Something that isn’t… all this.” He gestures around, grimacing as he shifts to get a little more comfortable.

I nod, grateful for the distraction, even if it’s just for a moment. “Okay… tell me something about you. Anything.”

He smirks, though it’s more like a pained grimace. “You don’t already know? I thought I was an open book.”

“Not even close,” I say, managing a small smile. “How about… your favorite color?”

He shrugs, eyes distant. “Black, probably. Makes me look like I know what I’m doing. Plus, it hides the grease stains from thegarage.” He chuckles, though it’s a rough sound, filled with more pain than humor.

“What about you?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “I’m guessing you’re a daisy-yellow type.”

I blink, surprised. “Daisies… actually, yeah. They’re my favorite flower, too.” I smile softly, letting the memory wash over me. “My mom used to plant them in the front yard every spring. Said they were strong, resilient. They could handle anything.”

“Like you,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible. “Guess it runs in the family.”

I feel my cheeks warm, and I glance down, trying to hide the rush of emotion his words bring. “What about you?” I ask quickly, deflecting. “You got a favorite flower?”

He chuckles, his expression wry. “Do I look like a guy who goes around picking flowers?”

“Just humor me,” I say, giving him a teasing look.

He sighs, pretending to think. “Fine. Sunflowers. They’re tall, tough, and they always know where the light is.” He meets my gaze, his eyes softening. “Plus, they’re a hell of a lot prettier than I’ll ever be.”

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