Evin's Fight (Southern Charmers Book 3) Ahren Sanders (all ebook reader .TXT) 📖

“His wife is related to a psychopath fixated on wrecking our future.”

“You are his world, Poppy. No one is wrecking your future. Her lies are already unraveling and you’re in the clear.”

I stare out the window and think about exactly how to answer him. “I’m a fighter.”

“Knew that from day one.”

“I’m also a dreamer, drifter, free-spirited lover.”

“Know that, too.”

“When she sees me, I want her to know she’s lost. Her reign of power is over.”

He revs the gas, picking up speed. “I’m looking forward to this.”

Chapter 39

Evin

The truck isn’t to a full stop when I wrench open the door, pop the belt, and haul Poppy into my arms.

“What are you doing?”

My mouth closes over hers, my tongue sweeping through urgently. She clutches my sweater, giving me what I need. The faint taste of champagne and her body pressed close helps soothe the wrath searing inside. Her whimper shoots straight to my dick, and I fight the itch to throw her over my shoulder and get us the hell away from this place.

“Man, you want to let her up for air?” Jackson jokes behind me.

I slow my assault, savoring another taste before breaking away.

“How’d you know?” she whispers breathlessly.

“Because I know my wife.”

“But how did you find me?” Her eyes go wide, cutting to Grady. “You snitched on me?”

“Nope. Like him, I had a hunch you’d demand to come here. When you ditched your phone, I sent him the address.”

“Nark,” she mutters.

“You think I’m letting you do this alone?”

“It’s my battle to fight.”

“Our battle,” I correct her.

“I’m here for legal representation,” Jackson notes.

“He’s here because he’s nosy and I was his ride.”

She grins, running a hand through my hair. “It’s good to have a lawyer on our side.”

“Two,” Grady adds.

“You’re a lawyer?” she asks cynically.

“Among other things.”

“When we get through this, you need to learn to share more details about yourself.”

“What’s your plan?” I bring the conversation back to the reason we’re here.

“I’m winging it.”

Jackson clears his throat uncomfortably, and she lets out a little laugh. “I know you obsessive-minded businessmen would have a plan. But my way has always worked for me.”

“You don’t have to do this. All the shit she spewed about you is shredded. Marco’s team has the real video, and my family has it posted on every one of their social media accounts. No one will believe anything she insinuated about abuse.”

“You should know something before we go in. It’s odd.”

“Tasha went somewhere no one expected. I already spoke to Marco.”

“How is he?” Typical for Poppy to ask about someone else when she’s been fucked over.

“He’s pissed she got access to run a fraudulent story and concerned about you being thrust into this mess.”

“I read the article on Grady’s phone. She took a leap on me, but she sliced open Marco and Karen. Their lives are messy and riddled with deceit, but they always loved her. She desecrated your reputation! I’m not letting that slide.”

“My reputation is solid. All that was written is complete bullshit.”

“She thinks she’s protected by these walls. Time to prove her wrong.”

“I’m looking forward to your show.”

I take her hand and we trail behind Grady into the facility. He stops at the desk, flashes some sort of badge, and the lady jumps to her feet, rushing around the corner. In less than a minute, she returns, accompanied by two men in suits. They look at our group grimly.

Grady’s demeanor changes, going directly into don’t-fuck-with-me-mode. There are no pleasantries exchanged as he tells them Poppy will meet with Natasha Bindel.

The older one’s expression turns stern, his beady eyes heating, but his counter-part agrees instantly. “Tasha is currently in the common area. Would you like a private room?”

“No,” Poppy answers cheerily, “privacy isn’t necessary.”

I exchange a look with Jackson, both of us thinking the same.

Common area could equal public humiliation. My devious wife has a plan.

When we get to the room, I’m pleased to see it’s packed with people. The televisions are on the playoff games, and at least twenty men are watching intently. The far side of the room is more like a library with a state-of-the-art computer center. Each station is occupied with patients that have technology privileges.

Tasha is sitting by herself flipping through a magazine. The stark difference from last week is shocking. The woman is a vile human being, but it’s easy to see how she uses her appearance as a weapon. Poppy drops my hand and takes the lead, strutting over. She stops less than a foot away, and my first impulse is to yank her out of reach.

“If you’re here to talk, you’re too late. The time for talking was last week.” Tasha continues to flip pages.

Poppy doesn’t speak, her expression blank and mind lost in thought as she stares down. Minutes tick by as her silence wears on. Others in the room take notice, filling the air with hushed whispers and wondering glances.

Tasha finally raises her eyes and slams down the magazine. Her face recoils in disgust. “Jesus, Caitlyn, are you wearing shimmering pink eye shadow? You really are a circus freak.”

A growl rumbles in my throat and Jackson steps in.

“Mmm, you brought the eye-candy with you today.” Tasha licks her lips, gaping hungrily between Jackson and me.

“You’re done.” It’s a simple statement loaded with conviction.

“I’m done? You limped in here looking like a Punky Brewster reject to say that? God, you are pathetic.”

“I’ve spent most of my life in the spotlight, whereas you’ve spent most of your life trying to get your shot. The first lesson I learned was survival. No one led the way, padded my bank account, or covered my ass. It was all me.” Poppy goes on, undeterred.

“Bullshit. What you did was twirl on a stage in skimpy costumes, showing off your tits and ass. You have no idea what survival means.”

Fury boils in my veins, and my instincts scream to put distance between them.

“Get ready, Natasha. Today is your day. I’m about to deliver your big break. And your fifteen minutes of