Evin's Fight (Southern Charmers Book 3)

by Ahren Sanders

  “I know, and if Dante can bring my husband back, I swear I’ll apologize a million times.”

  My phone buzzes with a text, and we pull apart, reading it together.

  Dante—I found him. We’re at the park. He’s not only running, he’s doing the platinum fitness trail. I’m sticking with him. I hate you.

  “The platinum fitness trail? Isn’t that the...”

  “It’s the black diamond of trails,” I finish her sentence.

  “Shit, Dante trained this morning.”

  “I have a lot of making up to do with the two men in my life.”

  “Well, Dante got off the hook pretty easy about the ‘hiding Tasha is back’ news.”

  “True.”

  Her phone rings in her bedroom and her eyes flash with an excited glow.

  “Is that Andrew?”

  “Most likely.”

  “Then answer it.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Don’t worry about me. Invite him over next week while you’re visiting.”

  “Already done!” She sprints down the hall, and I hear her excited greeting before her door shuts. To no one’s surprise, Andrew Rhodes and Ryanne hit it off when she was in Charleston. They were cautious of the distance. But lately, Ryanne has changed her tune. She can pretend her planned trip to Charleston over Thanksgiving is to be with me and visit her parents, but I know the truth. The glint in her eye tells all.

  “Come on, Poppy, let’s start our night of apologies.” Since no one is around, I leave the crutches and go to the kitchen, immediately realizing the difference. Nothing hurts, but the pressure bearing down slows my movements.

  An hour later, my nerves are frazzled. Dinner is prepped, all texts are responded to with the best vibe I can give, and even Marco has an update.

  I notice the large envelope on the counter addressed to me. When I open it, a thick stack of postcards falls, held together with a paperclip. Familiarity and nostalgia sink in, one-by-one. They are in chronological order of vacations we took as a family. Somewhere in the middle of the pile is a glossy shot of my grandparents’ house. I choke down my cry, continuing through. The next few send a chill down my spine.

  Vegas.

  Virginia.

  Africa.

  New York.

  Charleston.

  Tasha’s recent locations. The last card is blank with a question mark. Such a typical move. Playing games to freak me out.

  “Hey, sorry to leave you alone.” Ryanne saunters in, and I shove the cards back in the envelope.

  “How’s Andrew?”

  “He’s fine,” she answers indifferently.

  “Fine? That’s all you’re giving me?”

  “He’s fantastic, wonderful, attentive, interested in everything about my life, and can’t wait to see me next week. Is that better?”

  “Much better.”

  “You know how I’m supposed to drive to my parents’ on Monday and spend a few days?”

  I nod.

  “He wants me to invite them up for the holiday with everyone. He offered his place for them to stay… with me.”

  “Oh, my, that’s cool!” There are a thousand things a best friend should ask, but I don’t.

  “Now I need to call my mom and go through this.” Her conflict is clear, torn about leaving me alone again.

  Perfect escape.

  “Make your call.” I wave her off with a wink. “I’m going to cook and hope Evin will be here soon. Tell your parents I’d love to see them, and they’re welcome at our place, too.”

  When her door closes, I review the postcards again, looking for anything unusual. There’s nothing descript. She’s playing her games and trying to get into my head. Anger boils inside. This is not what I want to deal with right now. “Your immature bullshit is the last thing on my mind,” I mumble to myself, dumping it back in the envelope, and deciding to tell Evin after we’ve worked through my stupidity.

  The door flies open and Dante stumbles in, falling to the floor and looking haggard. “I had to quit. He broke me.”

  “Dante,” I scream, for the first time wishing for my crutch to support my urgency. By the time I make it to him, he’s rolled over. He’s a sweaty, dirty, heaving mess.

  “I tapped out at the third turn of the track. Evin’s a beast.”

  “Are you okay?” I slide my leg out, keeping it straight while crouching and balancing on my good leg. Jesse and I worked on this last week, and it’s coming in handy.

  “Pips, you need to prepare. He’s loaded with something even I can’t identify.”

  My hand cups my poor best friend’s cheek and I smile. “I’ll handle it. Do you need help getting up?”

  “No, I’m heading out before the shit hits the fan. He didn’t talk much, but he’s been sending a lot of texts. The adrenaline fueling his body is lethal. He’s doing those trails until he works it out of himself.”

  “Maybe I should go to him.”

  “You should let him do what he needs to do. I told him what happened after he left. He knows you’re waiting.”

  He rises, helping me to my feet, noticing my missing crutches but not mentioning it.

  “I’ll get you water.”

  “This is not how I saw my night off going. Thought we’d be drunk by now.”

  “How about coming by tomorrow? We need to talk about the studio plans.” He takes the water I offer, downing it in a few gulps.

  “Sounds good. If things are settled around here, I’d like to take you to the new complex. They have a sick lighting and sound system that would be perfect in the front room.”

  A ripple of excitement travels through me. “That would be great.”

  “And, Pips, the timing sucks, but we have to talk the business side, the legalities, and the finances.”

  “One thing at a time. If I bring up finances with Evin right now, he’s sure to blow.”

  He nods. “Love you, girl. Stop trying to be Wonder Woman.”

  “I’ll never stop striving for perfection, but my perspective is different now. Thanks for not glossing over my bitchiness.”

  He winks, kisses me on the forehead, and leaves. I text Evin, encouraged that he’s been texting.

  I love you and I’m sorry.

  He never responds.

  “Poppy, wake up.”

  “Ryanne?”

  “Yes, let me help you to bed.”

  Panic sets in, my body bolting up. “Where’s Evin?”

  My eyes are heavy, but they easily read the sadness in her face. “He’s in bed.”

  “He came home and didn’t wake me? Did he eat? Is he okay? “

  “Yes, he came home and it wasn’t pretty. He put the plate you made him in the refrigerator. My guess is no, he’s not okay.”

  “Why didn’t he wake me?”

  “I don’t know, but he watched you sleep for a full five minutes before he disappeared into your room.”

  My legs swing over, and when I stand, I cry out at the pain. She’s at my side, supporting my weight as fiery sensations blaze up my right leg. There’s a loud banging from my room, Evin appearing immediately. He takes one look at the situation, grabs my crutches, and hands them to Ryanne, turning back without a word.

  “He’s not carrying me to bed.”

  She’s quiet, helping me balance and urging me forward. The scent of lavender incense from earlier lingers in the air but does nothing to calm me.

  “Good luck.” She leaves with an encouraging squeeze.

  Evin’s body is facing the wall, and he doesn’t budge when I get in, sitting close.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize for the way you feel. I’m sorry, too.”

  “You did nothing wrong.”

  “I did plenty wrong, starting with missing the signs you were so unhappy.”

  Unhappy. That fucking word is like a branded Scarlett letter. “Those things I spewed earlier, they weren’t meant to come out that way.”

  “Poppy, it�
��s late. I’m wiped. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  “Our life in Charleston is everything to me.” I push, hoping he’ll understand

  Silence.

  “Will you please roll over and look at me?”

  He rotates a few inches, giving me his face. The guarded reflection in his eyes is unlike anything I’ve seen and slices deep. Knowing it’s my fault hurts worse than any pain I’ve ever felt.

  “I lied to you earlier. It wasn’t a lie at the time, but now it’s clear. My over-eagerness and hyper-drive for intense therapy were to prove something. You were right. The challenge fueled my arrogance. Subconsciously, it took me back to the seventeen-year-old girl who had everything to prove. The next four years of my life were a constant strive for perfection and approval. It wasn’t until Cirque that I shed the pressure on myself. Today, in that office, it unintentionally came back in spades. Dante helped me realize the truth. I want to impress with my recovery, but more so, I wanted to prove that Tasha can’t beat me.”

  “She’s not a factor here. This is about you.”

  “I know and tonight it all came into perspective. She tried to seduce you, only to be humiliated. Her ridiculously childish intent to trip me damaged my ability to perform on a stage career, but you gave me another career. She tried to sabotage your reputation, and that backfired, working out to your advantage. It’s annoying that she’s out there trying to wreak havoc because she’s a self-absorbed bitch. But for the first time in her life, she’s losing.

  “What happened earlier, the way I lashed out… I don’t even know who that person was. Nothing about our lives is menial, and everything we do gives me purpose. Please don’t let the awful things said ruin us.”

  His eyes warm, and he fully turns, bringing his hand to my cheek. “Jesus, Poppy. You’re my wife, not my seventh-grade girlfriend. Nothing will ruin us.”

  His words send relief racing through me. My palm goes to his chest, covering his heart and my flower. “I’m really sorry.”

  “Your condition is a setback; it doesn’t make you helpless nor crippled.”

  “That was multiple personality Poppy. Let’s hope she never makes an appearance again.”

  “She said some things that made sense, specifically Rexwell controlling your fate.”

  “That was overly dramatic. We know it’s the therapist who truly holds the cards at this point.”

  “Maybe, but I called him. Talked it through. If you want to come back for therapy after Thanksgiving, he’s onboard.”

  “Why would I want to do that?”

  “To be closer to him. You could resume some light workouts with your Cirque trainers and get the water training.”

  “Do you want that?”

  “My wants don’t factor in. This is about you and what will satisfy your personal goals.”

  “You don’t think your opinion matters on where we live?”

  His blank expression grips me in terror. “Are we living together?”

  “I’ll travel back and forth. It’ll be like before.”

  I try to pull my hand away, but he catches my wrist, holding it in place. “Poppy, this is all for you.”

  “Are you trying to punish me?”

  His head jerks, his eyebrows drawing together. “Punish you? Never. I’m trying to give you back your normalcy.”

  “No.” I shake my head fiercely, squeezing my eyes to stop the blistering agony building inside. “There’s nothing normal about us living apart.”

  “We did it before.”

  “Yes, before, Evin!” My eyes pop open, panic creeping into my voice. “Before this happened and I knew what it was truly like to have the beauty we have together every day. What about Devin’s birthday? What about the birth of the babies? What about the holidays, decorating our home for the first time? Do you think I want to miss all those things to work-out with my Cirque crew? You think that will make me feel normal?”

  “If this is what you choose, we’ll deal with the details.”

  “There are no details to deal with because my answer is no. No way in hell am I giving up what we have.”

  My nose, eyes, and throat sting, his face becoming blurry.

  “Come here.”

  I scoot and fall into him at once, attaching myself and holding back the tears. He doesn’t need to comfort me. “I love you. And I love that you’re protective, even if I pretend differently. I love that your first reaction today was concern for me.”

  “I love you, too, baby.”

  Baby. I’ve never wanted to hear that so badly in my life. After a few minutes, he shifts us, the muscles pressed against me twitching. Years of training tell me he’s over-exhausted them. Another reminder of my selfishness.

  No matter what happens, I’m never fucking up like that again.

  Chapter 35

  Evin

  “Want to unload whatever is bothering you?” All eyes are on me with Jackson’s inquiry.

  “He’s been truculent since he arrived.”

  “Truculent?” My eyebrow shoots up at Pierce’s choice of words.

  “Foul, grumpy, surly,” he continues.

  “I know what it means. I’m wondering why you’re pulling out the adult words. Didn’t know you spoke in advanced terminology.”

  “You’re an ass.”

  “It’s a little late to educate you now.” Miller joins the harassment.

  “You’re an asshole, too. Darby convinced me to let that boy come over and study. It forced me to listen,” he grumbles.

  “Meaning you hovered over them?”

  “Damn right. They aren’t even in the same grade. Why do they need to study together?”

  I grin, swigging my beer and enjoying this. Darby told me she swayed Peirce to let Maya’s ‘friend’ come over, but I haven’t heard his side of the story.

  “I felt the same way when some arrogant, conceited ass Casanova waltzed into my living room eighteen years ago. This loser wasn’t in college but was helping my baby study?” Dad doesn’t disappoint, cutting right in.

  Miller and Warren roar in enjoyment while Pierce scowls. “It’s not the same thing.”

  “Whatever you say. I get to enjoy this more and more. Wait until Darby’s mini-me daughter hits the dating stage. Karma’s a bitch.”

  Pierce bows up defensively, his face going to stone. “No one said anything about dating.”

  “Now who’s being truculent?” I goad him.

  “Shut up and don’t try to change the subject.”

  “As fun as it is to rile him up, he’s right. Don’t change the subject. What’s on your mind? Did something happen with the Bindels?” Jackson’s question changes the mood instantly.

  “Tasha is still in the wind. Nothing since the postcards she sent to Poppy.”

  “Any chance she’s gotten bored and moved on?”

  “My gut says no. The postcards took time. She went back far in their family history and taunted with the blank card of where she’ll go next. It’s all about mind tricks. That’s what worries me.”

  “Your mom has made sure we’ll know if she shows in Charleston again.”

  “But what does she want? Marco and his investigators paired with Scottie’s efforts have yet to uncover anything. Three months ago, she showed in Vegas with intentions to bring Poppy back in the family for Marco’s Presidential candidacy. Now that’s over. There’s no need for all this creeping around.”

  “How’s Poppy feel?”

  “She’s completely unconcerned and keeps insisting Tasha’s not a physical threat. It’s always been about money, power, status, and connections, which is why she operates with mental games. Poppy finds it comical that Tasha keeps failing. Her outlook is much brighter than mine.”

  “Well, it seems her mental games are working on you.”

  “Narcissists don’t like to lose and rarely admit defeat.”

  “She’s not only a narcissist, she’s jealous and humiliated. Take it from me that is a dangerous combination.” Pierce’s rema
rk is a reminder of what lengths a woman driven by jealousy will do.

  “I’m not suggesting we slack off on awareness, but maybe we should all adopt a little of Poppy’s optimism,” Dad advises.

  “That’s a good idea. The woman is a walking, talking ray of sunshine mixed with rainbows, even after what she’s been through.” Warren slaps me on the shoulder. “No one will let anything happen to her, Evin.”

  My attention goes across the street where Poppy is driving a golf cart occupied with Maya, Cole, and Ryanne. The bright pink of her hat and the white of her jacket glow neon under the multi-colored lights decorating the cart. Even in the distance, you can hear their laughter.

  “Gotta agree, she’s definitely sunshine and rainbows.” Jackson whistles low, his meaning clear.

  His attempt at lightening the mood works, getting a few chuckles.

  “Don’t make me regret inviting you.”

  “Poppy invited me. I think she’s wising up.”

  “I tried to tell him the best way to keep her hooked,” Pierce throws in. “He’s taking his time. It’s his fault if she leaves his ass.”

  “He isn’t getting any younger, that’s for sure.” Dad joins in. “Annie’s driving me crazy.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Someone want to fill me in?” Jackson looks around the crowd of men.

  “I have to agree with Edward. Poppy needs a baby.” Warren puts in his two cents.

  “One thing at a time. She’s been off crutches for three days.”

  “We all know she’s on the path of warp-speed recovery. Why wait?”

  Pierce is right. Poppy may have recognized she was overzealous with Dr. Rexwell, but it didn’t change her mindset. She’s pushing herself over a hundred percent, only now she’s taking the time to appreciate the accomplishments. She recognizes when she’s been too aggressive in her rehab and admits it openly. I know she’s resolute on beating her original timeline and she’s scheduled to be cleared to drive soon. We’ve been testing her reflexes at the farm this week on the golf cart, and tonight she’s had no problems.

  Thanksgiving weekend is the kickoff to the holiday tour of lights in a historical area of Charleston. This year, a longtime resident of the neighborhood declared mercy on all the men that are forced to walk the streets year after year. He extended an open invitation, welcoming anyone to hang in his yard if they’d like. We were the first here, staking our spot, and set up our fire pit and coolers.