The Other Side of Greed by Lily Zante

Chapter Twenty-Seven

KYRA

I’m moving things around in the storeroom again. I shopped for some supplies yesterday and left them here in a rush, and now I’m organizing things neatly in place. “I thought you’d be in here.” I jump at the sound of Brad’s voice.

I turn around, my cheeks blushing as our gazes meet. I hate that my face has such tell-tale signs, and I pray that he’ll think it’s because I’ve been working at this.

“Where else would I be?” I give a light laugh and throw my hands up. With all that simmering chemistry between us it has been difficult for me to stop thinking about him. I was almost getting back to my normal self because he’s been away from the office, and I stayed away from him at the food night. But this, him, now, here. It all comes back. He’s been away for a week, taking care of Emma and I need to fight harder to keep my feelings at bay.

“Are you sure you’re okay to come back?” He’s not being paid, so I don’t understand why he is here.

He hunches his shoulders, hand in his pockets as he slowly walks towards me. “I need a distraction.”

He must be so badly upset about it. My imagination sparks to life, and I deepen and color in the argument I assume he and his girlfriend must have had before she had the accident. “How’s your girlfriend?”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“No?” I hope my voice is strong, and unwavering in the silent moment that passes between us. But I don’t think it is. My heart jumps like a jittery fool, and I’m worried that he’s going to hear it.

“What make you think she’s my girlfriend?”

I turn my back to him, and line up the already lined-up boxes. “Just … you’ve been so concerned about her.”

“I care about her, but she’s not my girlfriend. Whatever gave you that idea, Lewis?” His voice is husky and inviting. I’m convinced he’s back to playing games with me. We lock gazes, the way we used to do so many times before. I force myself to look away and fail completely, my eyes drifting back to his face, taking in the curve of his lips and noticing the way they’re slightly apart.

Tempting.

He is tempting.

Every little thing about him is suddenly tempting.

I’ve been love starved. Attention starved. Sex starved. That’s why I’m behaving like this.

And now I wonder how his mouth tastes. My beating, crazy, lonely heart demands to know.

I’m convinced he’s back to playing games with me.

She’s not his girlfriend.

It’s supposed to be good news.

Why is that, Kyra?

“Those boxes look pretty well lined up to me. The entire storeroom is symmetrically in sync. You should be proud of your OCD.” His voice is low, and I can feel him standing behind me, not because he’s touching any part of me, but because I can sense it. I’m like a barometer, sensitive to the change in temperature which just shot up. Inhaling what I hope is a good dose of calm, I try to keep calm. “I take pride in my work.”

“What made you think she was my girlfriend?”

He’s not going to let this go. “You seemed really upset,” I answer.

“She’s a good friend.”

“She must be someone special.” I stare him right in the eyes, as if I am X-raying him to find the truth.

“She is.”

“How is she?”

“She’s getting better, but she might suffer from partial amnesia. That will be hard.” He bites his lip, stares away, looking pensive and sad. “She’ll recover, but it’s going to take some time.”

“She’ll recover. That’s the main thing. That’s what you have to focus on.”

His face crumples. “She doesn’t remember the accident. She doesn’t even remember that evening or what she did.”

My mouth falls open. “That’s tragic. That’s awful. I mean, maybe it’s a blessing that she can’t remember the event, but to forget a chunk of her life like that. It’s awful.”

“Sometimes it’s better to erase the things that hurt too much to remember.” I’m not even sure that he’s talking about his friend now. He seems to have zoned out.

And all of a sudden, I don’t even know if I believe him. Even if she’s not his girlfriend, he’s so cut up that it doesn’t make sense. Is he lying to me? My last boyfriend broke my heart so badly that I’ve not been able to put it back together. There are cracks in it that will never mend. I don’t want to fall for another liar.

* * *

BRANDON

Sometimes people want to forget. Sometimes it’s better to forget because remembering is too painful. It’s something that most people won’t understand. Kyra gets too close to the truth without even realizing. I’m scared that she sees inside me and knows every single demon that haunts me.

Seeing Emma’s empty desk, and finding myself becoming increasingly irritated by the new PA makes me want to be at Redhill instead of at Hawks Enterprises. At first I found it safe and comforting, being around Kyra but lately, coming here isn’t working out so well for me.

It’s bad enough that I have to put up with the homeless food nights and seeing Yvette and her children. She brings them with her and it seems to have become a regular thing. I hate that it forces me to face the things I would rather forget.

I have to come clean. Or quietly slip away.

I spend the next hour talking to Fredrich and Simona, and answering their questions about Emma, without giving too much away. Kyra isn’t stupid. She knows I’m being vague.

They start talking about the city hall event on Friday.

“Will you come, Brad?” Simona asks me.

“Uh … I don’t think so.”

“Come on, dude. It’ll be an awesome night.” Fredrich seems to be eager for me to come along.

“I’m not up to it, sorry.”

“Don’t force him,” Kyra chimes in, throwing me a sympathetic glance.

At the end of the day when the others have left, she comes over to my desk. “That was nice of you, sending food boxes back with Yvette on the night of Elias’s fight. She told me you did that.”

I slot my pen into the desk organizer, unable to meet her gaze even though I know she is staring at me. “We had lots of food left over.”

“But still, it was nice of you. Her kids are still really traumatized from—”

I hold my hand up, wanting her to stop. I don’t want to know. I already can’t sleep well and I don’t need to know what hell Yvette and her kids have suffered. “It’s fine. Really.”

“Okay,” she mumbles softly. I’m aware that I’ve been giving her wrong signals all day. Knowing the type of person she is, she’ll blame herself for something that is clearly not her fault.

It’s mine.

My life was fine and orderly before I came here. Now, memories of my past stare me in my face. I can no longer push them away. This thing with Redhill isn’t going according to plan, and I’m falling behind with dealing with matters at Hawks Enterprises. I stress about Emma, and then I stress some more about Kyra.

I could leave. Just disappear for a month, take a vacation. Go out into the wild, and hopefully, by the time I come back, all will be forgotten.

But I can’t leave with Emma still in the hospital, especially when the reason she’s hurt is because of me. I’m the one who told her to pick up the papers from my office and to drop them at my house.

The accident happened near my office.

This is my fault.

“Are you sure we can’t convince you to come to City Hall?”

“I can’t. I’m busy. Sorry.”

“You could have met Elias Cardoza.”

If I hear this one more time, I’ll explode. “My bad.” I force a smile, something I seem to be doing most of the time.

She gives me a weighing, assessing look. Her standard X-ray look, and I involuntarily fold my arms, as if this will be protection enough to prevent her from delving deeper inside me.