Page 35 of Icy Heart, Empty Chest
“If he had it, your heart,” I clarified, speaking slowly, “he would have put it in there. It’s one of those containers for black market organ transfers. Keeps it safe, protects it.”
“What does that mean?” He peered at me with fear in his eyes.
“If he has it, it’s not here. I think someone else has it.”
His face hardened and mouth closed.
“Let’s get out of here. We need to think.”
Saying nothing, he swept out of the bedroom, down the stairs and back toward the basement. Pushing through the basement door, he swiftly moved out and started to cut around the property.
I felt anxiety wind its way through me. I hated the tension in his face.
We started to make haste back towards my car. He had stuck his hands in his pockets against the cold. A short walk later and I unlocked it as he climbed into the passenger side. I put the heat up, shivering against the cold, and looked at the stoniness of his face. His eyes were tired, teeth clenched together.
I put on my seatbelt and put the car in drive.
Two streets down from The Magical Bean was the Salty Fae. It was a dive bar with dollar drink Mondays and bar food but I couldn’t think of anywhere better right now.
He shot me a look as we pulled in.
“Come on. I’m starving and need a drink.” I hoped he’d follow.
He deeply exhaled and got out behind me. It was a good sign that he was still entertaining my shenanigans.
The bar was on the quieter side for a Thirsty Thursday. There were a few sports games overhead. I took a seat down at the far end of the bar, nodding to the elf behind the counter. Sam brought me my usual beer and a small bowl of popcorn. She shoved a faded menu at Damien. “What are ya having?” He turned to look at my beer selection.
“Same.”
She disappeared and I exhaled. It was the most he’d spoken in the last ten minutes. I took a deep swig.
“Talk to me, Dae,” I said softly. “I know you’re disappointed.”
Sam returned with his beer and departed. He sipped and put it down.
“I’m such a fucking idiot.”
I put a hand on his broad shoulder, looking him in his dark eyes. “You made a mistake.”
“A mistake is putting salt instead of sugar in your coffee. This was pure idiocy,” he stated.
I winced slightly.
“Look, I know you won’t tell me what the reason was till later but I’m sure it made sense at the time.”
“It did but I was a moron then and now.”
“Dae…”
“Cor…by my estimation, with my symptoms I’m down to two weeks or less.”
I sat back stunned. I knew we were short on time but I didn’t think it was that short.
“How do you know?” My voice was hoarse.
“There’s a surprising wealth of literature on it on the internet. I’m strong, Cor. I’ve survived for years, possibly longer than I should. Some don’t last weeks. But with the pain and the mood changes? My over-under is two weeks.”
I sat back with my torso hitting the chair back. My usual verbal stream had dried up.
