Promises and Pomegranates (Monsters & Muses, #1)

by Sav R. Miller

So instead of trying to convince them of the point more, I take the Rolex, drop it to the floor, and let my irritation spike from the ticking; like any other trigger, the sound builds until it’s like a waterfall rushing between my ears, drowning out every other noise around me. Episodes like this are suffocating, all-consuming in the rage they provoke. It vibrates along my spine, knotting in my chest until it peaks, exploding like a volcanic eruption. Usually, I avoid the violent outbursts my thoughts conjure, but now, I draw the gun from my waist and aim it right at the watch face. A bullet pops free from the chamber, embedding bits of glass, shrapnel, and leather into the floor where it ripples from the impact. Somehow, like a phantom limb, the ticking remains. Chest heaving, electricity zinging through my veins, I stare at the hole and replay the gunshot over and over in my head, my shoulders tense and heavy. I don’t—can’t—move until the ticking stops. Finally, the silence floating in the air around us permeates my hazed brain, and I feel like I can breathe again. I see the girls wince from the corner of my eye and clear my throat, returning the pistol to its spot on my hip. When I breeze from the room, hitting accept on the incoming call, temporary relief floods through me as my body struggles to go back to normal.