The Heart System Nov Chapter 216

Chapter 216: Chapter 216

We left the house in a hurry, the door pulled close but not fully shut behind us, and headed downstairs. The mont we stepped into the cold air, Tuck took out his phone and stepped aside to make a call. I went straight to the car, started the engine, blasted the AC, and leaned back, cursing under my breath.

"Things just got real, huh?"

A couple minutes later, Tuck opened the passenger door and slid in, letting the cool air wash over him. He sank into the seat, one hand adjusting the jacket that now hid the gun tucked at his belt.

"Man, what did you drag

into?" he muttered. "This is wild. Like... wild, wild, man."

"I know." I rubbed my face. "You got a hold of Greg? What did he say?"

"He’s coming."

"We can’t pull in the cops, Tuck," I said. "Guy has people in the force."

"This isn’t official. Relax. Greg is tight. You can trust ."

"Hope you’re right."

Then ca the waiting. I stared out through the windshield as people strolled into the bowling alley, snow drifting down in lazy flakes. A few kids ca from school, throwing snow at each other on the sidewalk. It could’ve been a peaceful winter scene, if I hadn’t been sitting there wondering if Emilia was in danger because of —wondering if Guy was already one step ahead.

After a while, Tuck blew out a breath and shifted in his seat. He looked tense too, hands never far from where his gun sat hidden.

"By the way," he said, eyes still scanning the area, "the station called

earlier, like a few weeks ago. Looks like Richard really screwed himself."

"He did," I said. "Stealing his ex’s underwear, stalking her, then attacking her in broad daylight? He crossed every line he could."

"He’s waiting on trial," Tuck said. "You think he’ll do ti?"

I shrugged. "I hope so. For ndy’s sake. She’s been through enough."

"But you stepped in," he said, nudging my shoulder with a grin. "Playing hero."

"Yeah, sure," I said with a smirk.

He chuckled and then went back to watching the building across the lot. His eyes followed everyone entering Emilia’s apartnt, but only a few school kids had gone inside. Otherwise, nothing.

I still needed to go check on ndy tonight, too. Kayla and her would be waiting. But none of that could happen until I found Emilia. Guy was still ssing with my life even after I thought I was done with him. This idiot, I swear...

"Tell

about this Nala," Tuck said. "She solid?"

"Yeah. We clicked. Ran into her at a coffee shop."

"Lucky bastard. This her car?" He patted the dashboard. "It’s a beauty."

"Right? It even has a decent dashboard."

"And heated seats." He stretched, sighing. "My ass is in paradise."

I snorted. "Rember your old car? Soone ripped your radio out."

"Don’t remind ," he said, shaking his head. "Fuck that car. The radio was already broken before it was stolen."

We laughed softly, then fell quiet again. Greg was on his way, but it felt like forever. In reality, only six minutes had passed. Still, every one of them crawled. Waiting was the worst part.

A few monts later, a black sedan rolled up to the curb and stopped. The door opened, and out stepped the only man it could be. Greg the Gaper. He was towering, easily six foot eight, with broad shoulders and dark skin. His hair was short with waves that looked like he still cared for them despite his job and age. Forty-three, two kids, and his ring didn’t sit on his finger. Instead, he wore it on a chain around his neck. I never understood the reasoning behind that. Maybe so habit or old promise.

"He’s in casual clothes," I muttered. "Thought he’d show up in uniform."

"Told

he was on his off day," Tuck replied. "Co on."

We stepped out and moved toward him. Greg was checking his phone, probably making sure he had the right spot, when Tuck clapped him on the shoulder. Greg turned, grinned, and pulled him in for a quick hug.

"My man," Tuck said. "My man, my man."

"Big T," Greg answered, shifting the backpack on his shoulder. Then he looked at . "Evan, right?"

"That’s ." We shook hands.

"Hey, man."

"Hey."

He only knew

from a few short conversations at Tuck’s job. Nothing personal, just enough to know each other’s nas.

"So what’s this important thing?" Greg asked.

"Weird as hell," Tuck said, motioning for him to follow. "Co on, we’ll show you."

"Okay, lead the way."

We headed inside the building. Once again, we buzzed all the doorbells, and soone tired or careless let us in. We hurried up the stairwell and stopped outside Emilia’s door, left slightly open just as we’d arranged. Tuck’s hand was already on the grip of the pistol in his waistband. Greg noticed imdiately and raised a brow.

"Yo," he said. "Since when do I visit you and you’re packing heat?"

"You’ll see," Tuck muttered. "Just... be ready."

He pushed the door open, and we stepped inside the hollow apartnt. Not a chair. Not a plate. Not even pictures left behind. Everything had been removed cleanly, almost surgically. I closed the door with a soft click behind us.

Tuck pointed upward. A faint splash of dark red near the ceiling paint, like soone had tried to wash it but didn’t do a professional job.

"You see that?" Tuck asked. "Blood, right?"

Greg narrowed his eyes, leaned closer, then nodded. "Looks like it. And you two are definitely trespassing."

"This was a friend’s place," I said. "We ca to check on her. Found the entire place empty. No warning. No ssage. Just wiped out."

Greg turned to face us. "Who’d try to hurt her?"

"She’s got enemies," I answered before Tuck could open his mouth.

If I ntioned Guy Nolin by na, Greg would walk right out or report it the official way. We needed him to stay. To help. So the truth could wait.

"Man, what am I doing here?" Greg sighed. "You two should report this to the station."

"It needs to be off the books," I said. "At least for now. If the wrong people know..."

Greg rubbed the back of his head. The man looked genuinely torn. His conscience battled with his badge.

"I can’t," he muttered. "I’m not just so street rat anymore. I’ve got rules."

"Co on," Tuck said, punching him lightly on the shoulder. "You owe . And you know it."

Greg stared at him, dead serious this ti.

"T, this isn’t so bar fight. If this turns into sothing official, I’m screwed."

"Then help us before it does."

Greg blew out a long breath, closed his eyes for a second, and then nodded.

"Alright. Tomorrow night. Ten. I’ll bring so stuff to check for hidden blood and whatever else they tried to clean. That’s the best I can do."

"That works for ," Tuck said, glancing at .

I nodded. "Thanks, Greg."

"Yeah, yeah," Greg muttered, shaking his head. "Let’s get out. If sothing actually happened here, we shouldn’t be hovering around."

He wasn’t wrong. We headed out quietly, careful not to draw attention on the way down.

Tomorrow at ten. Finally, a lead. Soone had scrubbed the place, took everything, and tried to make sure no one could trace what happened. Now all we could do was wait and prepare for whatever we would uncover next.

????????????????????????

I pulled up to the curb outside Kayla’s building and killed the engine. A couple minutes later she stepped out of the lobby and, fuck, she looked unreal. Long, deep-blue dress that hugged every curve, neckline low enough to tease but still classy, slit up one leg flashing thigh with every step. Heels, hair down in soft waves, the whole package. She was carrying a bottle of red that definitely wasn’t cheap.

She scanned the street, clearly not expecting a matte-black G-Wagon. I gave the horn a quick tap. Her head snapped toward , eyes widening when she realized it was my car. She smiled, half amused, half impressed, and walked over.

I hopped out, rounded the hood, and opened the passenger door for her.

"Wow," she said, sliding in. "Actual gentleman."

"Only on special occasions," I shot back, shutting the door.

Heads turned as I walked back to the driver side. Couldn’t bla them. We looked like we were headed to a gala, not a make-up dinner.

Kayla ran her fingers over the leather seats once I was behind the wheel. "Okay, seriously. I thought you got fired from the spa."

"I did."

"Then what the hell is this?"

"Maybe I’ve been secretly loaded this whole ti," I said, easing us into traffic.

"Yeah, right. You used to work night shift at a gas station."

"Tips were excellent."

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "Uh-uh. Tips. Definitely."