Until You Break (The Devout and the Damned #1)

10. His Sinner

Chapter ten

His Sinner

The drive into the city feels like a blur, my mind miles away from the winding roads and tall, dark trees passing by. I can’t shake the sunflower from my thoughts, the way it sat so innocently on my counter, a splash of golden yellow in the quiet of my kitchen.

By the time I pull up to my tiny office space and step inside, my nerves are buzzing, sharp and uneasy. I slip off my jacket, glancing around the room, half expecting to see something else left for me. But there’s nothing out of place, just the familiar hum of my laptop sitting on the desk, the faint smell of dust and stale coffee lingering in the air.

The sunflower’s bright image still burns in my mind, an echo of a time I thought I’d left behind. I’ve tried looking for Dominic before—long, sleepless nights spent diving into search results, contacting anyone who might know something. Every time, I hit a dead end.

No records. No mention of him or his brothers. Just silence. Like he never existed.

With my coffee cooling on the desk and that damn sunflower rooted in my thoughts, I pull up a search window, typing in his name one more time: Dominic, Luca, Matteo. I don’t have a last name, only a vague memory of him saying they owned a garage.

But today, as I hit “Enter,” something shifts. A new result pops up, one that wasn’t there the last time I searched. My heart skips, and I lean forward, squinting at the screen, reading the words over twice to make sure I’m seeing them right.

Romano’s Custom Auto, founded by Luca and Matteo Romano, two brothers with a reputation for no-nonsense repairs and a client list kept strictly under wraps.

My breath catches. It’s them. I’m sure of it.

I click the link, pulling up a basic website with nothing more than a phone number and an address on the outskirts of the city. This city! A garage, just like Dominic said. And they’re still there, still operating, not far from where I am right now.

It’s like a spark lighting up a dark room, a surge of adrenaline mixed with something deeper, something I’ve tried to bury. Romano’s. It’s a clue, something I can finally follow. I type in the garage name, searching for more, scrolling through every link, every image that pops up.

Luca and Matteo stand outside the garage, looking every bit the rough, no-nonsense men I’d imagined. Luca has a cigarette dangling from his mouth, arms crossed as he leans against the garage wall, his face shadowed by a cap. Matteo stands beside him, long hair tied up, just as tough-looking, a grin on his face as he laughs at something off-camera.

It’s them, just like Dominic described—their rough edges, the way they carry themselves, like the world could fall apart and they’d still be standing. Seeing them like this, right in front of me, makes my heart race.

But it’s not the brothers that stop me cold. Next to them, a little off to the side, is another figure, one that pulls every ounce of air from my lungs.

Dominic.

I can’t mistake that face, that easy, almost careless smile that’s so familiar it hurts. He’s laughing, his gaze cast off to the side, like he’s in on some private joke, like nothing in the world could weigh him down.

Dressed in black with his tattoos visible, he’s younger here, but not by much, maybe only a few months before… before everything happened. He’s leaning against the wall beside his brothers, his familiar, crooked smile aimed at whoever’s behind the camera. His hair’s a little longer and mussed-up, his eyes bright and alive in a way I can hardly believe.

I reach out, fingertips brushing the screen as if I can somehow bridge the gap, as if I could touch him through the pixels, bring him back. Seeing him again, like this, is almost too much.

The smile that once comforted me, his face, so vivid and real, I can almost hear his voice, that soft sarcasm, the way he’d tease me to keep my spirits up. My eyes blur, a painful tightness gripping my throat as I stare at him, my hand flying to my mouth as I choke back a sob.

“Dominic…” I whisper, the name barely escaping my lips.

I’d tried so hard to let him go, to convince myself he was gone, a ghost from a part of my life that would never fully make sense. And here he is, frozen in time, exactly as he was. Not a ghost, not some memory haunting my dreams, but real. So real that I can almost hear his laugh, almost feel his warmth beside me.

But then a shadow of doubt creeps in. If Dominic made it out, if he survived that night, why didn’t he come to find me? Why didn’t he reach out? The questions twist in my stomach, but I push them aside. I can’t let the doubts stop me now. Not when I’m this close.

I scribble down the address from the search, my mind racing. There’s a chance, however slim, that they know something. That they can tell me what happened to him, whether he’s… whether he’s even alive.

My phone buzzes on the desk, and I glance at the screen, seeing a text from Mason checking in. He’s barely been gone a day, and already he’s making sure everything’s okay, that I’m handling life without him around.

For a second, guilt flickers in my chest, but it fades quickly. This is something I have to do, something Mason wouldn’t understand, no matter how hard he tried.

I type a quick reply, assuring him everything’s fine, then slip my phone back into my bag. I gather my things, the address scribbled on a piece of paper clutched in my hand as I head out of the office, locking the door behind me.

The ride to the garage feels surreal, like I’m in some kind of dream I can’t quite wake up from. The address leads me to an industrial part of town, tucked away from the main roads.

The garage is easy to spot, a large metal building with faded letters spelling out Romano’s Custom Auto on a sign overhead. A few cars sit in the lot outside, and the faint sound of heavy metal music and machinery hums from within.

I park my bike and sit there for a moment, gripping the handlebars as I take a steadying breath. This is it. This is the closest I’ve been to any part of Dominic since that night, the closest I might ever get.

I don’t know if I’m ready for whatever I’m about to find, but there’s no turning back now.