Promises and Pomegranates by Sav R. Miller

defenseless and used, elicits an entirely visceral reaction in me, setting my
soul aflame.
Jonas glances at me. “Do you think they...”
Gritting my teeth, I cut him off with a quick shake of my head, unwilling
to entertain that thought, although it certainly doesn’t look promising. “Let’s
get her somewhere safe, and then I’ll worry about doing a full workup.”
“Shouldn’t she go to a hospital—”
My head snaps in his direction, nostrils flaring with the half-voiced
implication. “Do you think there’s something they’ll find that I can’t?
Something I won’t be able to treat?”
“No, I just think she might need a breather. You know, in case she wakes
up and all she can remember is her attack, and the fact that you left her alone
in a strange, frankly seedy, bar.”
Moving around the bench, I note every single abrasion, cataloging them
for the future. A purple welt brackets her eye, while her neck is rubbed raw,
as if someone had their hands around it. Shucking off my jacket, I pull her
dress over her thighs and drape it across her, tucking it around her form.
“You think this place has a security system? Camera, audio?”
Looking around, Jonas frowns. “I can’t imagine they’d waste their time
with that in a mostly abandoned building. You know crime isn’t the same
here as it is in the city. It’s not… organized.”
Sliding my arms beneath Elena’s frame, I brace myself with my knees
and lift her off the bench, ensuring the jacket covers any indecencies.
Cradling her against my chest, I ignore the stench of the bodily fluids in her
hair, carrying her to the front door.
My chest throbs as I walk, guilt blooming like a field of poisonous
flowers inside me; one single indulgence, and I’m a goner. A slave to the
aggression and pain I otherwise keep at bay.
Anyone who touched her will die.
“Anderson,” Jonas says as I reach the door. I cast a glance over my
shoulder, seeing him standing in front of the ticket window, holding up what
appears to be a note card with the Ricci insignia on it. He cocks an eyebrow.
Breathing heavily, I focus on the black piece of paper, shifting Elena’s
weight so she isn’t slumping. My mind races, trying to settle on a single
course of action, while the blood in my veins comes alive with electricity,
singing as it pulses through me in a frenzy.
The note card taunts me, evidence that Rafael and Carmen are still trying