Page 116 of The Other Side of Green

“But—”

“Listen, Jack. I like you; my wife seems to have formed an attachment to you. If this blows internationally then you need to know you will be implicated. You might not have anything to do with Jensen and Miriam Collins now, but no one cares about now when history speaks so loudly for itself.”

“Elijah, I have no idea what to do.”

“I wish I had some advice to give, but whatever future you’re hoping for, I think you might find the name Collins follows you everywhere.”

“My name is Cross.” In the back of my head Lufette swirled around, but I locked it in the box titled: things not to be dealt with yet.

“I know, I know. I just wanted to chat, let you know what was happening over here.”

“Thanks, Elijah.”

“I wish I could help, but I think this is one you will need to dig yourself out of.”

“Yep, I think you’re right.”

We said our goodbyes and hung up and for a moment I paused, unsure of what to do. Why wouldn’t this just go away and leave us alone? All we had to do was get through.

I don’t know. I scrubbed a hand through my hair. Maybe Lyra was better away from this place, I knew I’d never suggest that though. She was just beginning to enjoy herself, to get into her stride, and she deserved that. She deserved the absolute best of everything.

One thing I had to do was to extricate myself from the Collins family once and for all and that would mean doing something I hadn’t wanted to.

Pick up my stuff.

But first—I turned in the direction of the admissions office.

* * *

I beeped the elevator and rode it to the penthouse, the whole way up, my stomach wanted to drop further and further down.

Who knew what I would find?

I had to go back though, if only to get the rest of my stuff.

Thankfully, the place was in darkness and I breathed a sigh of relief. Padding through on the cold marble floor I went to the bedroom Miriam and I once shared and pulled open the closet doors taking a gym bag out of the bottom.

The night I’d left to go back home with Lyra; well, to chase her home, I’d only taken a few key items. I pulled open drawers and unloaded boxers and t-shirts into the bag. I’d need some suits too, but they wouldn’t fit in the bag. I went to dump a handful of items on the bed when an envelope caught my eye.

An envelope never boded well, did it?

Ripping it open, I pulled out various documents.

One: the Audi’s certificate of title—now in Miriam’s name.

Underneath that was a letter from the bank closing down all joint bank accounts.

Okay those things I could live without. I still had my salary from Berklee and Blue’s Bar, assuming I kept that. The car had only ever been a perk.

My heart sank at the piece of paper underneath. The deed to Blue’s Bar. Or rather a transference of deed from my name to… I scanned the paper… Fuck. Shit. Miriam.

They couldn’t do this. Flicking through the paperwork, I looked for where my signature had been signed, my legs folding and sitting me down on the edge of the bed. My signature, but sure as hell not written by me.

Beneath the legal documents was another envelope, smaller. I opened it and emptied it out, peering closely at the image on the photograph. What a couple of weeks ago had been an inappropriate image of Lyra and I on the storeroom floor of Blue’s Bar was now an image of me with Brittany. Behind the picture was a folded piece of paper. Snapping it open with shaking hands, I skimmed the statement made by Brittany that I’d coerced her into a sexual relations.

I didn’t need to hear the click of heels on the marble floor to know I was doomed.

Absolutely fucking doomed.