Promises and Pomegranates by Sav R. Miller

normal skin.” He shifts, dropping one hand to the crack of my ass while the
other winds beneath my thigh, sweeping over the K there. “The nerve
endings regenerate, and the keloid scars like that are usually the worst
because of all the extra collagen.”
Slowly, I drift my hand over the site, watching his face for signs of
distress. “What happened?”
He smirks. “Which time? Hit men don’t always get away with things, you
know.”
I hold my breath for a moment, trying to imprint the feel of the rough
edges into my palm, reconciling them with the stoic figure holding me. “With
this one?”
Something cold passes over his face, making me shiver, and he starts to
move deeper in the water; I’m not sure how long before he loses his footing,
but it feels like we’re edging dangerously close here.
A metaphor, if ever there was one.
“I was betrayed,” he says softly, his right hand coming up, twisting in my
hair. “And I vowed not to ever let anyone close enough to me to hurt me like
that again.”
It feels like an admission, though I’m not exactly sure of what. A promise
of sorts, the kind whispered against skin, spoken to your soul. It breaches
mine, uncertain as it brushes the surface, and I lean in, ghosting my lips over
his when I speak.
“You’re not unlucky,” I whisper, afraid of shattering the bubble that’s
risen up around us, my heart beating so fast that it’s making me sick.
Flexing his fingers in my roots, he exhales, the cool mint of his breath
rolling down my chin. “I certainly don’t feel like I am right now.”
INSANITY.
That has to be what drives me to return to the Flaming Chariot, as if I
haven’t had enough issues around there as it is.
But curiosity is a raging bitch where I’m concerned, and I’m on a mission
to find the girl from the other day and figure out who she is to Kal.
If she’s the one who betrayed him.
The bouncer outside gives me a once-over as I unfold myself from the