Chapter 9
Evin
I sip the whiskey, staring at the bathroom door while replaying her words over in my head. It’s one thing to get hurt by an asshole that can’t keep his dick in his pants. But to fuck her sister?
When the door opens, she gives me a small smile that doesn’t meet her eyes. Every instinct in my body screams for me to take her in my arms and tell her nothing else matters, but my curiosity is winning out. I want to know everything.
She takes my hand and guides us to the sofa, folding into me when we sit.
“I haven’t been completely honest and upfront with you about my birth family. For you to understand what happened, I need to go back to the beginning.”
“I think it’s pretty obvious your sister fucked you over.”
“It wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last. When you leave tomorrow, you need to know the truth about who I am.”
“I know who you are.”
“You know who I am now. The woman I’ve spent almost eight years becoming. But there’s a lot more to this story and a history that can’t be denied.”
“Baby, I don’t want you upset—”
She places a finger to my lips. “You deserve to know.”
A knot forms in my gut at the possibilities of what she’s about to share. Although nothing could shock me more than knowing my Poppy dated an NFL superstar and he banged her sister.
“My parents are Marco and Karen Bindel.”
I jerk involuntarily, recognizing the name well. “Marco Bindel, the Governor of Virginia?”
“Yes, but Marco wasn’t Governor until last year. He wasn’t into politics at all while we were growing up. He was pondering the State Senate race but wanted to wait until we were in college. Before that, he was an executive.”
“We? How many siblings do you have?”
“Just my sister.”
“How old is she?”
“She’s twenty-nine.”
“You have a twin?” I ask in disbelief.
“Irish twin, she turns thirty soon. Which is the beginning of my story.”
She takes my glass and sips the liquor, grimacing as she swallows, then continues. “Tasha and I were normal sisters until high school. By then, I’d already found my love of dance and performing, but she’d never stuck to anything. She resented me and was vocal about it, always undermining my passion for dance. My parents listened to her, and when I declared I was going to college for dance, they refused to support it. Remember when I told you I had to get a scholarship for school?”
“And you busted your ass to do it?”
“My dad was eyeing politics and Tasha fell into the role perfectly, studying business and political science in college in Virginia. She loved the idea and notoriety of what a political lifestyle would offer. This delighted my parents.
“I found an avenue to go to school and study dance with a minor that I thought would be acceptable. It wasn’t enough for them. They weren’t financially responsible for my education.”
“They wouldn’t send you to college if you didn’t bend to their will?”
“No, they saw dance as a frivolous hobby that wouldn’t lead me anywhere. If I wanted to chase my dream, it was my responsibility to find a way. So, I went to my favorite dance instructor and explained my situation. We worked tirelessly for weeks, researching schools and programs. It wasn’t enough to be accepted to a program; I had to have the scholarship, too. The cards were stacked against me in certain programs because they distribute the aid based on financial needs. Mrs. Canon called in favors with her contacts that could help.”
“Sounds like a terrific woman.”
“She is and I owe everything to her.”
“Poppy, she may have been your cheerleader, but it’s you with the talent.”
“Yes, but at seventeen-years-old, I wasn’t mentally equipped for the stress. While all my friends were enjoying parties, football games, and beach weekends to celebrate the last year of high school, I was in a dance studio preparing for auditions. It took a toll on me, and each time I was breaking down, Mrs. Canon would lift me by reminding me to dance to my destiny.”
My fingers go to her ribcage, sliding along where the words are inked on her skin. “The meaning makes the tattoo more beautiful.”
“Thanks.”
“That’s a lot of stress on you. What I don’t understand is how your parents were so removed.”
“That’s the funny thing. They weren’t. It sounds stupid, but even with all the blood, sweat, and tears, I have significant memories from that year. With Tasha gone, it was the first time I had my parents to myself. They did not fill my house with negativity and tension; it was the opposite.”
“They basically told their teenage daughter to find her own way to support her dreams. I can’t foresee how that would be a loving home.”
“From what you’ve told me, my upbringing was nothing like growing up with Edward and Annie Graham, but it was our way. Marco and Karen never missed one of my performances, nor any of my special moments. They praised my hard work. When it came time for auditions, Karen took me to every single one.”
I shake my head, trying to wrap my head around what I’m hearing. “Now I have whiplash. Are you telling me they finally came around?”
“They changed their tune. Karen saw my determination and spun it as grit and ambition.”
“They were testing you with tough love?” I grind out, getting pissed at the thought of a teenage Poppy putting herself through this while they stood by.
She shrugs nonchalantly. “Maybe, but it didn’t matter because I was offered several scholarships, including a spot at Julliard.”
“I know nothing about dance, but I know that’s fucking impressive.”
“Thank you.” A flicker of pride lights in her eyes. “But in the end, I chose UNC because it was closer to home and had an unbelievable program.”
“Did your family finally catch on and get on board?”
The flicker of pride dies and she nods sadly. “Yes, they were proud of me and relieved I was only a few hours away.”
“No offense, baby, but you’re losing me here. And seeing as you keep referring to your parents by their first names and they aren’t in your life now, it leads me to believe there’s a lot of shit to come.”
She gets up, moving to the bar to refill my glass. When she returns, I tug her into my lap.
“That was the prelude to you understanding how the rest of the story goes.” Her voice is faint and hoarse, setting my nerves on edge.
Dante’s warning rings in my ears.
“The family she grew up with chewed her up and spit her out. They fucked her over on the concept of loyalty, love, and moral values.”
I take the glass from her and swallow most of the liquor in one gulp.
“What did they do to you?” I press her to continue.
“My college years were amazing. I met friends, had exceptional training, and life was awesome. My parents visited, and we never discussed their original disdain for my choice to pursue dance. Marco was busy ramping up his political sights and getting involved with local and state government interests. He was a natural, too. Many times, he’d call me and ask my opinions on issues. We’d discuss his stance, his platforms, his ideas. It made me happy that he valued my insight. Everyone was living their own lives. Because of our schedules, Tasha and I only saw each other during holidays or breaks. We grew distant because she didn’t keep her opinions to herself on my choices. Marco and Karen stayed out of it, or so I thought.
“November of my senior year, I began dating Isaac. He may have been the football star to everyone else, but to me, he was just Isaac. Over Christmas break, he visited and won over Marco and Karen’s approval within minutes. Tasha had graduated and was living at home while looking for a job.”
“Is that when he slept with her?”
“No, I’ve looked back at that weekend a million times, and I don’t think it started then.
At least not for him. She is a different story. Isaac and I went back to school and things were good between us. It was slowly progressing, and he didn’t seem to mind. But there was a one-eighty shift with Tasha. She suddenly became interested in being a real sister. I welcomed her visits, our calls to each other became more frequent, and the kinks in our relationship disappeared. Isaac and I were getting more serious, and because of this, when she visited, it was often the three of us. She seemed happy for me.
“That’s why it was odd she insisted on coming Valentine’s weekend, knowing I had plans with him. The first night out at a bar, she hooked up with a friend of his. We all went back to my apartment, and Isaac and I went to bed immediately.”
The knot in my stomach coils tighter at the image of her in bed with another man. Regardless of the years that have passed, the thought sends my blood pressure spiking.
“Sweetie, you need to take a breath.” Her fingers sift through my hair, urging my face to hers. “Maybe I should skip this part.”
“Is this the part where your sister fucks your boyfriend?”
“Not him.”
I catch onto her meaning. “She fucked the other dude?”
“She did, and she did it loudly, clearly enjoying herself, leaving no room for misunderstanding. Isaac froze and curled me into him. I thought it was a sweet gesture and he was protecting me from the embarrassment of hearing people going at it in my living room. Later, I found out it was her laying the groundwork.”
“I not sure you need to tell me the rest. It’s coming together in my head. She used her body to get to him.”
“I guess.” She nods slowly. “Whatever it was worked. The next month, I threw myself into rehearsals and preparations for my final performance. My schedule was grueling. I barely had time to eat or study, and Isaac understood.”
“That photo in your room?”
“Yes, that was the one. Everything was perfect. With the stress of the show off of my shoulders, I was ready to take the next steps with Isaac, too. I walked out of the performing arts center and found my family with Isaac. The moment Tasha saw me, she took his hand, leaned into him affectionately, and kissed him. I can still picture the look of satisfaction and conquest on her face.”
“What the hell did your parents do?”
“Nothing. Tasha weaved a web of lies, and they bought into it. They thought Isaac and I had decided we were better off as friends and I’d played matchmaker.”
“They believed that bullshit lie?”
“She was very convincing.”
“Parents aren’t that stupid, especially Marco Bindel.”
“I’ll rephrase. They believed what they wanted to. But my devastation was too blatant to ignore. In the interest of not causing a scene, Karen tried to keep the peace. I walked away without a word. It was almost a full day before she showed at my apartment. She took one glance at my bloodshot eyes, swollen cheeks, and trembling body, and for a split second, the compassion of the mom I loved was there. Then she vanished. She tried to convince me to overlook the issue and move on.”
“The issue? Which one?”
“All of them.”
“She wanted you to let it go?”
“She didn’t want it; she demanded it.”
“What the actual fuck is that?”
“Turns out my years away from home and absence from their everyday lives had left me in the dark about a lot of changes in my family. They’d caught political fever. Everything was about moving Marco into the spotlight. Family feuds were frowned upon.”
“They expected you to eat shit and be fine with it?”
“Isaac’s upcoming position in the draft and his growing popularity was a plus to Marco’s image. Karen had long since nailed the role as an executive wife. Now she was transitioning into the politician’s wife. I was told in very certain terms to get onboard.”
“I hope you told them to fuck themselves.”
She grins, the first genuine smile I’ve seen since we got to this room. “It took a while and a ton of planning, but eventually, I told them to fuck themselves.”
I shift her in my lap, hoping she blew apart this shitshow. “Looking forward to hearing this and hoping it includes an ass-kicking at some point.”
She giggles, her face brightening. “I gave myself two days of a pity party. Then I switched into gear. They spread their story back in Virginia of me introducing Tasha and Isaac. Since we had openly dated at school, my friends and his knew the truth. There were awkward moments, but my friends stepped in. I was never alone on campus and my social life took a major hit, but it was by choice.”
“What happened to the man that called his daughter and relied on her advice?”
“That was the odd thing. After the Tasha and Isaac betrayal, Marco called and apologized.”
“He apologized?”
“Yes, he was sorry for what happened and told me repeatedly how proud he was of my life. Our calls resumed, though not as frequently, but each time he’d emphasize he loved me.”
“And Karen?”
“Her contact was more infrequent, and she continued to push my participation in the campaign.”
“Contradictory actions.”
“Exactly, and I didn’t trust it. There was always a calculated dig aimed at me. My instincts were alert. I accepted a spot on a group traveling to Paris to study dance for the summer. During my years in school, I’d worked at a local dance studio. They gladly gave me more hours so I could save money. The rest of my semester, my time was spent in school and looking for ways to have complete financial independence. My grandparents left me a trust that came to me at twenty-two. That would help while I was in Paris.”
The knot in my gut unravels at her excitement.
“The draft came and, as expected, Isaac went in the first round. Tasha organized a party in North Carolina to celebrate. Of course, I was a no-show, going home and get anything out of their house that was valuable to me.”
“Nice.” I whistle low.
“They weren’t happy, but it was all about appearances. While at home, I met with Mrs. Canon and told her my plans. She was my emergency contact and had all my information. I went back to North Carolina, with everything falling into place. Graduation was approaching. Marco and Karen had already announced his run for the State Senate, so they planned a huge shindig for press purposes. This was a little more tricky.”
She swigs the last of the whiskey and sets the glass on the table. “I sold all my furniture, made plans to store my car, and knew I would not be walking across the stage on graduation. Marco and Karen showed a day early. I’d always been easy-going and strived to please growing up, so that’s who they expected to be waiting. They saw my empty apartment, my bags packed, and flipped. Karen lost her mind, but Marco was resigned. I gave them one more chance to be parents. Karen thought I was irrational and upset about Isaac. There was no breaking through. She didn’t see my point.
“Marco’s campaign manager was there and spotted disaster written all over the situation. He stepped in and offered me a high-paying position with the campaign to play along with the charade of a beautiful, happy family that would resonate with voters. I declined, knowing it was over.”
“Shit, they tried to bribe you?”
“Tried and failed.”
“How’d you get away? The political limelight seems to dive deep into politician’s lives. If your father was encompassing a campaign with strong family values, it would be hard to sell with his daughter missing from the picture.”
“As I mentioned, the campaign manager was smart. He knew my absence would generate tons of questions, and when I declined the position, he offered me another deal. If I agreed to a pre-taped interview and photo-op, he would do his best to keep my name out of the campaign. It was my last favor to all of them.”
“And Marco agreed?”
“He didn’t stop it. The campaign manager called in a local reporter for the interview. They pretended to be ecstatic about my purs
uit of dance in Europe. We did the required photo-op. I got on a plane the next day and reinvented myself as Poppy Malone.”
“Reinvented?”
“Caitlyn Bindel was no more. I changed my name, moved all my bank accounts, and recreated myself out from under the thumb they thought they had on me. Complete independence. I didn’t want any part of that world.”
“You left your entire life behind?”
“I never gave it a second glance. Met Ryanne in Paris and we bonded. The rest is history.”
“You haven’t spoken to any of them since?”
“A few times early on. In moments of weakness, I’d take Karen’s calls. The last time we spoke was when I returned to the States and she thought my rebellion was over. She offered mental assistance. That was it.”
“Where did the name Poppy Malone come from?”
“My grandparents on my dad’s side. We were close. My grandfather was English and loved to tell us stories about growing up in Britain. I always found it fascinating, mostly because it made him and my grandmother happy to share. The Poppy flower has a deep significance in Britain. There are differing views on the meaning, but to my grandfather, it was respect, love, gratitude, and hope. He would call me Poppy often, and I cherished it. When I changed my name, there was no hesitation. Poppy Malone was in honor of them.”
“Do they know who you are now? Where you live?”
“They may. The legal hurdle to change my social security number was complex. It wouldn’t be difficult to find me. As far as I know, they never tried. I cut them out.”
I brush my lips across hers. “No chance you sucker-punched your bitch of a sister?”
“Nope, never saw her again after that night at the arts center. She sent me a few messages trying to justify her actions with the fact that I wasn’t ‘giving up to a man like Isaac, so I deserved what I got’.”
We sit for a few minutes and I let it all sink in. “What happened with Isaac?”
“I have no idea. We never spoke again.”
“You know he’s a fucking idiot, right?”
She smiles against my lips. “He was no Evin Graham. He got trashy Tasha who’d screw on a couch with a stranger to prove she was willing and waiting. I won. I waited for the right man.”
Evin's Fight (Southern Charmers Book 3) Page 9
