The Other Side of Greed (The Seven Sins #5) - Lily Zante Page 0,77
that Kyra was talking about. I’m on the verge of making a huge mistake, and leaving here is the best thing to do.
Chapter Thirty-Six
KYRA
Lies. He is lying to me. That’s all I can think of as I quickly get dressed. His scent hangs in the air long after he’s gone, and I fall back onto the rumpled bed, breathing it all in.
I am a naïve fool. Too trusting and wanting to believe the good in everyone. But the thoughts I had about Brad from the start now come back and haunt me because what he says and what he does don’t align.
He never suggests that we go back to his place. It’s odd that a grown man chooses to make out in a storeroom or inside a car. We only ended up in my bed because I initiated the move.
Emma is more than a friend he is concerned about. He told me she was getting better. How is it that she holds so much sway over him unless she is someone important to him? Like a lover.
What is he hiding? A wife? A girlfriend? I should have learned my lesson from my ex. My damaged heart can’t go through this again. This man is a walking mystery. All I know is his name, and not much else.
He has called and texted, probably while he’s in the waiting room waiting to see his darling Emma, but I’ve declined his calls and I’ve read the texts which don’t say much except that he will explain.
I’ve given him plenty of opportunities to explain. I need to trust my initial gut instinct which warned me not to trust this man.
BRANDON
I messed up, again. She hates me, and she has every reason to hate me.
This is nothing less than I deserve. Kyra will know something isn’t quite right. I’ve been forced to show my hand, and I will. I’ll put things right. Kyra and I, we can still be together. She’ll hate me at first, but hopefully, over time, she’ll learn to hate me less.
I reach the hospital in no time, and as I walk into Emma’s hospital room, she’s not lying in bed, but walking around on crutches.
The sight of her, still bruised and injured, stops me, but there is hope. She is moving. She’s up and about.
She stops and looks up at me, her lips spreading into a slow, careful smile. It instantly erases my worries. Her parents acknowledge me, her dad thanks me for coming.
“Hey, stranger.” I walk over and kiss her gently on the cheek. “So good to see you again. Are you in pain?”
“I’m always in pain.” She winces as she slowly makes her way over to the armchair. I help her to sit, hovering around, ready to take her crutches or aid her in any way, but I seem to be getting more in her way than not.
“Can I get you something?” I’m ready to go get her whatever she needs, food, drink, a nurse, painkillers. Watching someone who used to be such a powerhouse, now reduced to a tenth of the person she used to be, breaks my heart.
“I’ll be okay once I sit down and take a breath.”
“I’m … I’m … sorry.” The words strangle my throat. I’ve been keeping it all inside, my part in this awful accident and the blame I carry.
“Sorry for what?” She eases back into her seat.
I did this to her. “It’s my fault … the accident. You being in that car.”
“How is it your fault?” Her defiance eases my anguish.
“Because you were only there to fetch something for me from the office—”
Her face turns white. “I don’t remember. I don’t remember going there. I don’t remember if I went to the office—” She’s getting agitated at not being able to recall it. I take her hand and press it gently between mine.
“Don’t. Don’t force it.”
“Was it something important? It must have been if you asked me to—”
“Hey, Emma. It’s not important.” Nothing is important anymore. What is all this wheeling and dealing for, when people’s lives can change in the flash of a moment?
She opens her mouth, but I shake my head.
“Don’t.” I attempt a smile, which is difficult, because now that she is sitting up, I can see she has lost so much weight. This woman who was once dressed in sharp suits and high heels, who ran my life for me, organized my days, questioned my motives and plans, told me off without holding back, admonishing me when I