Promises and Pomegranates by Sav R. Miller

My annoyance with how this entire afternoon played out ramps up,
burgeoning in my throat. Lashing my arm out, I grab Vinny by the collar of
his bowling shirt, looping my fingers through the gold chain around his neck.
Pulling tight, I yank so he’s angled awkwardly across the bar, clawing at
my hand.
“Can’t... breathe,” he rasps, face blooming a bright crimson color.
“Good. Remember this feeling the next time you decide to talk about my
wife like she’s one of your little whores.” Shoving back, I release him,
ignoring the disappointment running through my veins at the lack of finality
in my threat. “Except next time, I’ll just cut your esophagus out and watch
you choke on your blood. Got it?”
“Jesus, Kal.” He rubs his throat, shooting me a glare. I don’t respond,
smoothing my hands down the front of my suit, and he straightens on his feet,
leaning against the soda tap. “Got it. I didn’t even know you got married.”
“Now you do.” My phone vibrates, my chest pulling tight when I see the
name lighting up the screen. “Keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn’t
wander, and that no one looks at her too long. I’m all too aware that she’s too
enticing for her own good.”
Vinny nods. “Aye, aye, captain.”
Choosing to look over his smart mouth, I head for the front door, keeping
my chin straight ahead. I can feel Elena’s eyes on me as I leave the bar,
burning holes directly into my back, and I’m tempted to go back inside and
sit with her instead.
But I have shit to do.
The sunlight is a bright contrast to the dark interior of the bar, and I’m too
busy trying to adjust to notice the girl standing at the curb, arms folded over
her chest.
She scoffs when she sees me, mouth pressing into a firm line. “I knew it.”