Darkroom Saga Omnibus 2 by Poppet

Author:Poppet [Poppet]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wild Wolf Publishing
Published: 2017-11-27T22:00:00+00:00

I am still sore and bruised, I'm broken, and I see flaws where he sees perfection. But stupid girls open mouths and end up with split lips and shattered teeth. Keep quiet, keep your mouth shut and your eyes wide open, watch for the coils and tension because that's when the snake attacks. Instead feed the poison back, it makes the serpent passive, but never docile.

I know I live with a danger so deadly he might kill me in the night, crushing me until I pass out, never to wake. Polina may be slave, but she's not that stupid. I might not know fancy words and social etiquette, but I know how to sleep with a cobra and survive.

Mikah stands, facing me, surveying me with a scrutiny which makes my throat tighten. “The surgery will take all morning, then I'll stay for observation for three more days. The bratva will stop by to make sure you are okay while I'm not here.”

“And then?” I ask, looking at how his first two knuckles on both hands are too large, like he's hit too many men in his lifetime. When he folds his arms like that it's hard to miss the man before me is nothing more than a pretty savage.

Mikah smiles, and it's enough to wither my mind. It's foreboding and soured with sadism. “Then you look after me and give me what I pay for.”

I knew it would come to this. It always comes to this. This is why Polina Scott lives alone and does not date. How did I end up here? How is it that this man thinks he owns me? Oh right, God 'gave me' to him, but God looks just like a man. It's a flaw I can't wrap my head around. God lives in heaven, he doesn't live here 'two states away'. Looking up to his eyes until my neck twinges, I dare to ask Mikah, “How is it that god is flesh and bone? Why isn't he in heaven?”

How do I know he's really god? Where's my proof?

Mikah sighs, closing the gap to brace himself against the doorframe, pressing absently in and out as exercise while he stares at me with the morning light from the window gilding his hair with a halo, veins knitting his arms and sculpting up his neck. “Polina, I know you're simple, but even the ignorant know about god. He wasn't a stranger in the desert, he was right there with the tribes of Israel. He chose Moses and Aaron himself, he taught them how to be priests, he elevated the slaves of Egypt to his own. Just because he doesn't parade in front of cameras doesn't mean he's not here. He never left, kisa. He's been here watching for too long and he doesn't like what he sees. He still chooses people to serve him, I'm one of them.”

“How do you know he's god?” I breathe, my voice wispy because my breathing is shallow.

I expect him to hit me for asking, but I doubt most things, most people too.

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