Evin's Fight (Southern Charmers 3)

“Being an overbearing Neanderthal. I’m capable of getting around on my own.” I pinch harder, twisting my fingers this time. “Lighten up.”

Miller and Pierce chuckle, and I slice my attention to them. “Why are all of you here?”

“Darby called when she got held up. We were all together at a job site, so they rode with me.”

“Together at a job site? Why?”

“Investor interest.” His reply is vague, further heightening my curiosity. Several times over the last few weeks, I’ve gotten a weird feeling he’s hiding something.

“Care to share more?”

“Nothing to share. Where is your shirt?”

“It’s on the bench.”

“Put it on.” He barks the order, guaranteeing it’s not happening.

“No.”

We go into a stare-down, his eyes growing darker with each second.

“For what it’s worth, I agree with Evin,” Miller throws in, breaking my concentration, and I cast my focus to him. He’s grinning like a boy, enjoying this.

“No one asked you.”

“Just saying, Ashlyn would be over my shoulder by now.”

“That’s exactly what’s about to happen,” Evin warns.

“I’m ready for a beer and my wife. Can we get on with it?” Pierce adds.

I open my mouth to tell him to shut it, but all that comes out is a girly squeal when Evin bends, hooking his elbow under my knees, and swings me in the air. “Jesse, will you get her bag?”

“See you tomorrow, Poppy.” She hands my things to Pierce.

“You’re making a scene,” I mutter, then something catches my attention across the room. Rina is staring at us, her face fallen and eyes welling up. “Evin…”

“Next time, she’ll think twice about listening to gossip and learn respect.”

The venom in his tone reminds me of earlier. “She’s not the only one that listened to gossip, is she?”

His silence is my answer, setting off alarm bells in my brain. A trick like this has Natasha’s name all over it. She was in Charleston, targeting people in Evin’s life, and spreading malicious lies about me. Tony’s ordeal was three weeks ago, which means Evin has been keeping secrets.

“He shouldn’t have told you,” Marco states bluntly. “We’re working on it.”

“You don’t get to make that call. Neither does he.”

“Don’t be too hard on him, Poppy. He’s trying to keep you focused, safe, and living your life. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

This is only the second time we’ve actually spoken since the day in the hospital. It is still odd to hear him refer to me as Poppy. “Figures you’d take his side since you’ve been conspiring to keep me in the dark for almost a full month. Time’s up. Tell me what you know.”

“Natasha has stayed low. There’s been no communication with anyone in her circle. Our last lead was when she was in Charleston. That’s now dead.”

“It’s not too dead, considering yesterday I came face to face with someone from Evin’s past that thought I was a stripper! Tasha is in this town trying to throw shame on my family and ruin Evin’s reputation. Someone has to know something.”

Darby and Ashlyn nod encouragingly from their chairs. I settle back on the massive swing on Darby’s front porch with Runner’s head on my lap.

“She’s making it difficult to find her.”

“What about Karen?”

“Your moth… Karen,” he corrects, “swears there has been no communication.”

“And you believe her? She doesn’t exactly have a track record for telling the truth. Tap her phones, monitor her accounts, hack her email—do whatever you have to do. Tasha is getting money and support from someone.”

There’s a rustle on the line and the voice of someone in the background.

“Marco?”

“Poppy, where’s Evin?”

“I don’t know.”

“I need to call—”

“Whatever you need to say to him, you say to me. Swear to God, Marco, you have a chance here to come clean, but if you screw it up, I’m done.”

He sighs, muttering under his breath, and hope springs when he says, “Where are you?”

“Does it matter?”

“Are you alone?” The question catches me off-guard and my eyes go to the girls.

“No, I’m with family.”

“Jesus,” he pauses and my heart sinks.

“What???” I whisper desperately.

Ashlyn is at my side in an instant, taking the phone and switching to speaker.

“My man just handed me a report. Natasha cashed in a CD for twenty-five thousand dollars a few days ago.”

“She has money.”

“That’s not all. Natasha shopped her grandparents’ heirlooms. She’s sold most of it.”

All the breath leaves my lungs, and my hand snaps around Ashlyn’s wrist. “No!”

“Baby girl,” he says sympathetically, his voice ragged with emotion.

“We have to stop them.”

“I can’t, it’s done.”

Tears spring to my eyes. My grandmother’s jewels, my grandfather’s coin collection, the priceless trinkets they collected through life and gifted to us. Mine are safely locked away, but knowing she pawned hers breaks my heart.

“How much did she get?” My question comes out more of a croak.

“The estimates so far are around eighty-thousand.”

“But why? She’s not a fugitive. She’s not a criminal running from the law. As far as anyone knows, she went away on a goodwill mission. Why is she hiding? We know she’s here.”