Soft Hearts Hold Secrets

Breaking Bones

"Damn, Eden. If I were you, I'd already be halfway around the world by now. What the hell are you doing in Vesuvia?"

The bartender had been wrapping the second layer of gauze round Eden's hands, the grip of the medical linen tight and pinching against his wounds. He cringed, sucking in a thin breath of air through his teeth as the bartender worked around his palms and up his forearms. He'd been coming to her for years to get patched up after fights or after getting into situations such as the one he was in just then -- and every time, she had the same lecture.

Eden shrugged his shoulders. "Had to get some revenge first" he said, a slick smile curling up his lips. "Came to you for another quick check up, then I'm going back to the police for one last little chore, and then I'll get the hell out of dodge."

The bartender shook her head, clucking her tongue. "And some cash from shady police officers is worth staying in the radar of one of the biggest mafias this country has ever seen? You're delusional, Eden."

"Not just cash," Eden argued, his smirk gloating and prideful. "I've also weaseled my way out of pretty much every charge this damn department has ever filed me under. I'll be leaving Vesuvia a free man."

"A free man with holes in his hands."

Eden slumped his shoulders and cocked his brow, smile turning into a frown. "I didn't think they'd catch me," he grumbled. "But it's fine. I already made sure Asra paid for what he did, and then as soon as I get to Julian's sister and screw with her, he'll get the memo too. Neither of them are going to bother me again -- I'm making sure of it."

The bartender didn't answer. Instead, she leaned back, dropping Eden's hands and turning around where she stood to put the first aid kit back on the wall. Eden sighed and leaned back in his bar stool, smiling again as he looked down at his hands. They still ached -- considerably so -- however, with the bartender's medical help and Eden's caution, they hadn't gotten infected, and they were healing.

"Well, you better get going," the bartender said, turning back around. She wiped her hands off on her thighs, and reached for a bottle of whiskey behind the bar. Eden watched her pour two glasses, down one of them in a single gulp, and push the other his way. "Take care of your business and get as far away from Vesuvia as you can, boy. Don't come back until you know the Count's forgotten about you."

Eden scoffed, standing up from the bar stool. He picked up his glass of whiskey, careful with his hand, and took one mighty gulp of it. Eden winced at the fire that traced down his throat and burned in his chest, but he set the glass upside down on the bar and nodded his head.

"Don't think I'm coming back," he said with a sigh. "I'm afraid this is the last time you'll see me. If you cry enough, I'll think to write."

The bartender made a face. "What if they're tears of joy?" she asked flatly, plucking up his dirty glass and setting it to the side.

Eden put a hand on his heart, feigning shock as he scooped up his jacket. "That hurt." He shook his head a little, spinning on his heel and making his way for the door. "Goodbye, love! Thanks for everything!"

"Goodbye, Eden," the bartender sighed. She waited until Eden had made his way to the door, his bandaged hand just gracing the doorknob, before she called out again -- voice more serious. Genuine. "Be careful. If not for your own sake, for mine."

A smirk split across Eden's bruised face. He turned to look over his shoulder, and offered a charming wink. "Of course," he said with a simple nod of his head. "I do everything for your sake."

The bartender groaned, and Eden laughed -- turning back around and leaving out the door before he could hear her tell him she had a boyfriend again. The door clapped to a close behind him, and he was soon alone in the dark parking lot behind his favorite bar. It was well past closing, so all of the regulars had been long gone. The only thing to keep Eden company as he stepped across the pavement of the lot had been the flickering streetlight that casted an amber glow over his car.