The Heart System - Chapter 540

Chapter 540: Chapter 540

I stubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray and leaned back on the stool, stretching my neck a little until it cracked. Before heading to the restaurant, I figured I’d stop by Stingy Ladies and check on Eleanor. My phone showed eight. The sun had been gone for a while now, and the city had settled a long time ago. Carrie had texted earlier; the meeting was set for nine thirty.

Plenty of time.

The bar was alive when I walked in, louder than usual. Music drifted from the small stage near the back, where a three-man band was playing something slow and bluesy. The guitarist sat on a stool, fingers moving lazily across the strings, while the drummer kept a soft, steady beat. The singer’s voice carried through the room, low and rough, blending with the clinking of glasses and the hum of conversations.

Tables were packed. Some people leaned in close, talking over the music. Others just sat back and drank, letting the noise wash over them. A couple in the corner argued in hushed tones, while a group of guys near the stage cheered whenever the guitarist hit a clean riff. The air smelled like alcohol, cigarettes, and fried food, all mixed together into something heavy but familiar.

I took a seat at the counter, near the edge, and ordered a soda. Not exactly the drink of choice in a place like this, but I had to drive later.

From where I sat, I could see Eleanor moving between the tables. She carried a tray in one hand, her posture straight, her smile practiced. It didn’t reach her eyes. Anyone paying attention could tell. She laughed when customers said something funny, nodded when they spoke, but there was something off about it. Like she was just going through the motions.

She was supposed to be resting. Charlotte had given her time off, but apparently that hadn’t stuck. Of course it hadn’t. Sitting alone with your thoughts after something like that? Yeah, no thanks.

A few minutes later, a voice yanked me out of my thoughts. “Drinking soda, man?”

Charlotte’s voice pulled me out of it. She walked over, wiping down the counter in front of me with a cloth.

“At least get a beer or something,” she added. “Support the place.”

“Driving tonight,” I said, tapping the side of the glass lightly.

“One beer won’t kill you.”

“Maybe not, but I’ll stick to soda.”

She shook her head like I had personally offended her, grabbed my empty bottle, and replaced it with a fresh one after popping the cap off. “You’re boring.”

“Been called worse.”

I lit another cigarette, taking a drag before exhaling slowly. The smoke curled upward, disappearing into the already hazy air. I leaned forward, resting my elbow on the counter, my forehead pressing lightly against my palm. My eyes felt heavy.

Silk.

She was real. She had to be. That wasn’t just some random dream my brain cooked up. And the way Mana and Dierella reacted… that wasn’t normal. They were panicked. Actually panicked.

What the hell was she?

“You look like you’re about to solve the meaning of life,” Charlotte said, glancing at me.

“Just thinking.”

“Dangerous habit.”

“Yeah,” I muttered. “How’s Eleanor holding up?”

Charlotte followed my gaze toward the floor. Eleanor was handing a beer to a customer, nodding along to something he said.

“As you can see,” Charlotte replied.

“Fucking Brok,” I added under my breath.

“Who?”

“The guy who caused that mess yesterday. The one who took a swing at her. And Sophia.”

Charlotte’s expression tightened slightly. “Yeah. Him.”

“Piece of shit.”

A guy two stools down waved his hand impatiently. “Oi! Beer here!”

Charlotte sighed. “Coming.”

I took another sip from my soda and glanced back again. Eleanor was heading toward the counter now, her tray empty. When our eyes met, she gave me a small smile. It was softer than the one she gave the customers. Real, at least a little.

She set the tray down and leaned on the counter, close enough that I could hear her over the music.

“I’m glad you came.”

I let out a quiet breath. “Well, I’m not glad you came. You should be home.”

She tilted her head slightly. “And do what? Sit there and overthink everything?”

“Better than this.”

“Debatable.” She gave a faint shrug. “At least here I can distract myself.”

“By working?”

“By not being alone.”

I didn’t argue with that. Couldn’t, really.

“Flawless logic,” I said instead.

“Always,” she replied, a hint of humor slipping through.

“Tray’s ready!” one of the other girls called out from behind the counter.

Eleanor glanced back. Two beers, fresh ashtrays, and a couple plates of fries were already set.

She pushed herself upright. “Duty calls.”

“Try not to overdo it.”

“I won’t, don’t worry.”

She grabbed the tray and moved off again, weaving through the tables with practiced ease. For a second, I just watched her go, my eyes trailing a little longer than they should have. Then I caught myself and looked away, taking another sip.

Enough wasting time.

I slid off the stool and pulled out some bills, placing them on the counter. Charlotte picked them up without a word, stuffing them away like she didn’t even want to acknowledge me. Fair enough.

As I turned to leave, Eleanor looked back again from across the room. She lifted her hand in a small wave. I returned it with a nod.

“Leaving already?”

Sophia’s voice came from behind me.

I turned and found her standing there, arms crossed, her posture as solid as ever. The bruise on her face was still faintly visible under the dim lights.

“Yeah,” I said. “Got somewhere to be.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly. “What about Brok?”

“I’ll figure something out.”

“Better do it fast,” she replied. “If that bastard comes back and tries something again, I won’t sit around waiting.”

“What are you planning?”

She shrugged, but there was nothing casual about it. “I know people. Not the kind you want involved unless you have to.”

“Don’t,” I said, a little more firmly than I intended. “Let me handle it.”

“Then handle it,” she shot back. “Before it gets worse.”

I exhaled slowly. “I will.”

She held my gaze for a second longer, then stepped aside.

“Good.”

I walked toward the exit, the noise of the bar fading slightly with each step. The music, the chatter, the clinking glasses—all of it blurred together behind me.

Outside, the air was cooler, quieter. The city lights stretched out ahead, and somewhere out there was Jack Kuinn.

Tonight, that was my focus.

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