3. His Sinner
Chapter three
His Sinner
I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting in silence, trying to process everything Dominic told me. My mind keeps racing back to the word trafficking , circling it over and over again, as if understanding it will somehow make it less horrifying.
It doesn’t, though. Every time I think I’ve caught my breath, panic rears back up, twisting in my gut like a knife.
Just as I’m starting to drift into that dark place again, the heavy clank of a lock echoes through the hallway outside.
My body goes rigid, and I glance at Dominic, who’s already sitting up, his shoulders tense as he watches the door. The metal door creaks open, and a man steps in, carrying two trays.
I see the mask first—a red neon stitch mask, the stitches curling around hollow eye holes and a slashed mouth.
He’s tall and muscular, his arms covered in dark tattoos that snake down to his wrists. He’s dressed in black—black tank top, black camo pants, and heavy boots that thud against the concrete floor. His long hair hangs loose, and there’s something about him that radiates cruelty.
He sets one tray down outside Dominic’s cell, then moves toward mine. The mask’s smile stares at me as he slips the tray through the slot at the bottom of the bars. I can’t help it—the fear transforms into anger, burning up from my gut.
“Why are we here?” I ask, staring him down as best as I can. “What do you want with us?”
The man doesn’t respond, just stares at me through the hollow eye sockets of the mask. I try again, louder this time, hoping that if I keep pushing, he’ll slip up, give me something to hold onto.
“Are you just going to leave us here?” My voice grows more insistent, anger replacing the fear coursing through me. “Why take us?”
He pauses, his head tilting slightly as he looks back at me. I get the feeling he’s smiling under that mask, enjoying the way I’m coming undone. The anger burns hotter, filling up every space that fear left empty.
“Answer me, dammit!”
Without warning, he unlocks the cell, stepping inside with a calm that chills me to the bone. I take an involuntary step back, my bravado slipping as he slowly approaches. Panic flares, but I hold my ground, my mouth going dry as he towers over me.
“Stay away from her!” Dominic’s voice erupts from his cell, his hands gripping the bars tightly as he tries to shove them open. “Stay back, you piece of shit!”
The masked man barely glances at him, his attention fixed solely on me. Before I can even process what’s happening, his hand snaps out, and I feel a sharp, stinging pain as he backhands me hard across the face.
I stumble back, the impact sending me to the floor, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth. My head throbs, and I press my hand to my cheek, tears stinging my eyes as I fight to keep myself from crying.
Scurrying away from him until I’m sitting on the cold concrete floor, my arms wrapped tightly around myself. I want to scream, to fight, but the fear has returned full force, wrapping around me like chains.
He just stands there for a moment, watching me, that awful smile on his mask as still as ever. Then, without a word, he turns and leaves, the sound of the lock sliding back into place echoing through the room.
As soon as he’s gone, I feel the tears prickling at the corners of my eyes. But I grit my teeth and grab at the cross around my neck, refusing to let them fall. I won’t give them the satisfaction of seeing me break.
“Hey…” Dominic’s voice is soft and cautious, and I glance over to see him sitting close to the bars on his side, his expression twisted with concern. “You okay there, Little Sinner?”
I nod, even though I’m anything but. My cheek throbs, and every muscle in my body feels tight, like I’m wound up, ready to snap. “I’m fine,” I manage, my voice barely a whisper.
He scoots closer, pressing himself as close to the bars as he can. “You’re not fine. And that’s okay. You don’t have to be tough every second, not in here and not with me.”
I shake my head, swallowing back the sob lodged in my throat. “I… I just wanted answers.” My voice wobbles, betraying me, and I close my eyes, hating how vulnerable I feel.
“Look at me,” he says gently, and I force myself to meet his gaze. His green eyes are steady and soft; a kind of calm that makes the chaos in my head quiet down, just a little. “You did nothing wrong, Aria. These people… they’re monsters. They want you to feel scared and helpless. Don’t let them break you. Don’t give them that win.”
I take a shaky breath, trying to hold onto his words, to the quiet strength in his voice. But the fear is still there, gnawing at the edges of my mind, refusing to let go. I wrap my hand around the cross pendant again, trying to steady my heart.
“Here,” he says, his tone shifting, warmer. “Let’s talk about something else. Something that doesn’t involve… this place.” He gestures around, his mouth twisting slightly in distaste. “Tell me something about you. Something that has nothing to do with all this.”
I blink, thrown off by the question. “Like what?”
“Anything. What’s… what’s your favorite movie?”
I let out a small, surprised laugh, the question so out of place it almost feels absurd. But I find myself answering before I can second-guess it.
“The Princess Bride. I used to watch it all the time with my mom when I was a kid. It’s cheesy, but… I don’t know. It’s comforting.”
A faint smile touches his lips. “Good choice. A classic.” He pauses, his eyes flicking over me, studying me in a way that feels almost… kind. “What about your favorite food?”
“Pizza. Extra cheese, no toppings,” I reply, the words coming a little easier now. I can feel some of the tension draining away as we talk, the heaviness in my chest loosening. “I know it’s boring, but there’s something about it that just… I don’t know, it feels right.”
He chuckles softly. “Hey, simple doesn’t mean boring. I’m a pizza guy myself. Though I’m more of a pepperoni-and-jalapeno kind of guy. Adds a little kick.”
I smile, the conversation somehow bringing a warmth that cuts through the coldness of the cell. It’s strange, but talking about these small, trivial things makes me feel… human again, like there’s still a world beyond these concrete walls.
“What about music?” he asks, leaning a little closer, his fingers curling around the bars. “Got a favorite song?”
“Hmm…” I think for a moment, searching for something that feels like me. “Probably something by Fleetwood Mac. My dad used to play their records all the time. Landslide , maybe. There’s just… something about it.”
He nods, a flicker of understanding in his gaze. “Good taste. Classic rock has a way of sticking with you, doesn’t it? Reminds you of… simpler times.”
I nod, biting my lip as a wave of nostalgia hits me. “Yeah. Before all of this,” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper.
We fall silent for a moment, the reality of our situation settling back over us like a cold fog. But Dominic doesn’t let it linger.
“Alright, last one,” he says, his tone lighter, almost playful. “If you could be anywhere in the world right now, where would it be?”
I don’t even have to think about it. “The beach. Somewhere warm, with sand and waves and a million miles of sky. I’d just lie there and listen to the ocean until all of this… everything just faded away.”
He nods, his gaze drifting as if he can see it too. “Sounds perfect. I’d take a cabin in the mountains, somewhere quiet, with just the trees and the stars.”
I smile, the image of it calming me, grounding me. “Maybe one day,” I say softly, almost to myself. “Maybe we’ll get to see those places.”
He meets my gaze, a spark of determination in his eyes. “We will, Aria. We’re getting out of here. This place… it doesn’t own us.”
The quiet conviction in his voice is enough to make me believe it, if only for a second. I clutch that hope, holding onto it like a lifeline, refusing to let go.
“Thank you,” I murmur, the words slipping out without thought.
He smiles, a small, tired smile that makes me feel like I’m not as alone as I thought. “Anytime. Just… hold on, okay? We’ll find a way out of this.”
I nod, letting his words settle over me, filling the empty spaces that fear left behind. For now, it’s enough. And as the silence settles around us, I close my eyes, clinging to the fragile hope that somewhere beyond these walls, the world is still waiting for me.