Addicted to Mr. Parks (The Park #2) (38 page)

My bum shifted in my seat, being reminded that I was still sore. “Well, that’s the way a WParks fuck goes.”

Parks laughed solemnly, leaned over, and held my cheeks between his palms, speaking against my lips. “I love you, Princess. So much. I have no idea why you put up with me.”

“And I don’t know why you put up with me.” I kissed him before he took his seat back across from me and shifted it forwards to get closer. “You have always had the patience of a saint with me. From day one. You were like an annoying smell that wouldn’t leave me alone.”

“An annoying smell?” He laughed, doing the action of a film reel. “You just keep those names reeling, baby.”

“But you have the patience of the Hulk with everything else.”

He racked his hands through his dark locks. “I’m a dick. I agree.”

“And I’m a handful,” I admitted.

“Like I said, that’s why I have two hands.” He smiled, rubbing his palms up my bare legs.

“We’re a lost cause.” My sigh was broken.

Parks pulled me off my seat and into his lap. I threw my legs to the side and sat across him, my arm thrown over his shoulder, my head against his chest. We were both glancing to the sea that waved just over the horizon. My senses were all bouncing off one another after getting the hit of all the scents that radiated from his luscious body so close to mine. His watermelon. His freshness. The masculine fragrance he wore that was an instant aphrodisiac for me.

“But we’re each other’s lost cause. Please don’t ever run from me. I’m scared if I lose control, I’ll never see you again.”

I rolled my eyes on a deep exhale. “Wade, I’m not that woman who runs anymore. That was my past. I’d run to the nearest wine bottle to bury my head in the sand. I’d clam up and lash out at the thought of deep conversation. The thought of feelings. But here I am, weeks later and I’m already changing.” I prodded him in his chest. “That’s down to you. You’ve given me so much in the little time I’ve know you, and I want to give back. I don’t want to be weak anymore. I don’t want to run. I want to confront. I want to face things head-on. If you try to push me away, I will push back even harder. My life has only just begun with you. Why would I want to end that?”

He squeezed me in his arms. “You have no idea how proud I am of you, Princess.” After a harsh sigh, he made me look at him. “Evelyn, I need you to promise me something.” My frown was clear, but I let him finish. “Promise me you will never be around my father without me. Promise me you will stay away from him.”

A curious frown remained across my forehead. “Why?”

“Because…” He sighed raggedly but couldn’t finish, so I pushed it.

“Why won’t you talk to me?”

“Evelyn.” There was a soft note of suffering in his tone. “Remember you once told me that weak and vulnerable are the things you can’t afford to be? Exposing weakness equals vulnerability?” He shook his head. “I can’t do that to myself. You of all people should understand. Hell, you are the only woman that would ever understand.”

My heart was hurting for him, crushing my chest. Of course I knew and understood his statement well. I’d practiced it enough times. There was a part of me that didn’t want to pry and keep pushing and asking him to tell me what hidden demons he had because I understood considerably that someone pushing a damaged soul sent them running further away. I didn’t want to be pushed out.

“Could you at least tell me what the discipline issue is? Because I’ve noticed since we got back together, you haven’t been so strict with your obedience policy.” I was smirking, but it was a serious subject.

He traced my legs with his fingers as he spoke. “Disobedience and punishment have been built into me, Evelyn, and the reason I toned it down was because when I found out about the abuse you received from your mother, I felt no better than her. I was spanking you and had no idea you were abused. I’m a sick fuck.”

I cupped his face in my hands. He was in no way
sick
. “But you’re not because I ask for it too. It’s not always you. It soothes me.”

“How?” His furrowed brows were clueless.

“How does it soothe you giving it?” I made him think about that. “It’s the same thing.”

“No,” he harshly disagreed. “I will only give you pleasurable spanks from now on. I know if we argue and you step out of line, I have to walk away. I can punish you for being disobedient, but not when I’m angry. Not for
my
own pleasure.”

Letting the subject drift, I decided to come back to it at some point. Just not right then.

“Did you know we were in an article online?”

His expression was impassive. “Of course.”

Pausing, I contemplated my next question. “Did you know that Dave isn’t happy about it?”

He recoiled, pushing a stray piece of hair behind my ear with a finger. “He thinks you’re a distraction, Evelyn, that’s all. Ignore him. He’s a grumpy old man.”

“A grumpy old git, more like. I almost punched him the other night.”

“Why?” He pulled my chin to face him. His eyes were stern. “What did he say?”

I shrugged. “Said I had no right being with you. That if my past was exposed, it would ruin your name.”

“He said that?” The way his eyes bulged and his hands balled into fists told me he wasn’t happy, not one bit. Which made
me
very happy. David the Dick thought I couldn’t get him the sack? Thought he could get away with speaking to me like shit? Oh no. Parks would do anything for me, and for once, I took advantage of that.

“He even offered me money to leave you.”

“Motherfucker,” he growled. He placed me on my feet and stalked into the bedroom.

Another one bites the dust.
I laughed to myself, loving my malicious streak.

Hovering around the bedroom, I waited for Parks to come back to the room after his phone call. I was all ready to get back onto the flight to London. The weather, the house, and Harriet were all wonderful reasons why I didn’t want to go home. However, I didn’t like who Parks became while we were here. Around his father, he was uptight, agitated, and wound up.

At least thirty minutes went by, and there was still no sign of Parks. Surely it didn’t take him that long to fire David’s arse. My curious mind couldn’t stay put, so I went to investigate.

Ending up downstairs, I suddenly came into earshot of muffled voices, which equalled secrets. Did I want to eavesdrop and probably get into trouble for it? Hell yeah.

Taking timid steps, I eased towards the door and heard the voices of Parks, Harriet, and Jasmine.

“Why the fuck didn’t they tell you she’d left? Someone will pay for this.” Parks was seething with rage.

“She manipulated one of the new doctors. Told him she was better and ready for release. I don’t understand why they didn’t ask your permission or at least check in with you.” That was the voice of Jasmine, equally as angry as Parks. “She’s a conniving little bitch.”

“Stop.” Harriet was crying. “We need to find out where she is and get her back inside. Who knows what harm she’d do to herself?”

Who on earth were they talking about?

“Herself?” Jasmine scoffed. “Mom, you need to worry about yourself and Abigail. That girl is unhinged.”

Abigail? Maybe they were talking about her biological mother?

“She’s not well, Jasmine. Don’t talk about her that way. The sooner we find her, the better.”

Harriet was still crying, and it seemed into the arms of Parks. “Wade, please tell me you’ll find her.”

“I promise,” he said.

Okay, I wished I’d never heard that conversation, because now my mind was running like wild wildebeests in a stampede. How could I ask Parks about it when I wasn’t even meant to be listening? Then I thought, well actually, this has nothing to do with me.
Butt out.

I made my way back upstairs and suddenly heard my smartphone ringing. I closed my eyes exhaustedly when I saw it was my dad.

“Dad.” My tone was clipped.

“Evey, hey, kid. How are you?”

“Good. I’m in America right now, Dad.”

“America? Christ, kid. What ya doing over there?”

“I’m with my boyfriend.”

“Oh.” He gulped. “My little girl has all grown up.”

“Dad, I grew up twenty years ago.”

He sighed. Then there was a pause. “I just wanted to ask—and you can say no if you want to…”

“How much?” I rolled my eyes to the ceiling as I flopped back down onto the bed.

There was another nervous gulp. “It’s not a few quid, kid.”

“Dad, how much?”

“A grand.”

“What?” I shrieked. “I don’t have that sort of money.”

“The thing is, we’ve got a dealer on our case and—”

“Another one? How many times do I have to bail you out, Dad?” My parents made me so angry. They would never learn. Maybe I should have stopped bailing them out. Let them have a kicking for not paying up. But how the hell could I live with myself if I let that happen? I couldn’t.

“It’s your Ma, Evey. You know what she’s like.”

“Yes, I do. She’s a waste of space who doesn’t deserve a man like you, Dad. Fuck.” I cursed because tears began to stroll down my face. Out of anger, frustration, and built-up emotion. The overwhelming feeling of exhaustion that I felt towards my father for constantly putting up with my mother was killing me. It was actually killing me.

“Dad, you could be such a good man without Mum. You could live a happy life without stress. Without drugs. Please, let me help you.”

“I don’t want to be lonely, Evey.”

“You won’t be alone. You’ll have me.” The silence that fell across the phone was my undoing. It gave me his answer. “I was never enough for you, was I?” I choked back tears and swallowed down a lump. “I was never enough for you or Mum. Never enough to keep you both happy. I came second best to drink and drugs. How could I ever compete?” As wounded tears slipped from their cage, Parks entered the room. He caught me crying and was immediately by my side, pulling me into his lap and waiting anxiously for me to hang up.

“Dad, I have to go.”

“Evey, wait. Please don’t cry. It kills me to hear you cry.”

“And it kills me to know my parents never loved me the way they should have. Never put my needs first. Never hugged me when I needed you. You were never there for me, but I’m always there for you. Whenever you need something from me, I give it to you because I want to make you happy. Why do I bother?”

“Evey, don’t say that.”

“Bye, Dad.” I hung up and curled into the warm and inviting lap of my beloved man.

“Why has he upset you, Princess?” He smoothed out my fallen tresses that had stuck to my cheeks from tears.

“He needs money, as usual, and it hurts because I only ever hear from them when they need something from me. Why can’t they just want
me
?”

Parks stiffened, his hands stilling at my cheeks. Evidently, he despised the way my parents treated me. He hated that he couldn’t put it right and change the past. Because if he could, he would. Parks was the only person that would walk on fire for someone like me. How could I not love him?

“How much money do they need?”

I pushed off his chest with my shoulder. “You’re not bailing them out. I’ll get it, somehow.”

“I won’t have you worrying about trying to raise the funds.”

Wiping those damned tears from my eyes, I tried to put on that brave face that had built itself into me like a moulded mask. “Promise me you won’t bail them out.”

He looked down into his lap. “Hmm.”

I pushed him in his shoulder. “I mean it. They realise you’re a frigging billionaire, they will latch on to you like a leach.”

“Princess, the only person I want latched on to me is you.”

Well, who was I to protest?

Chapter

Thirty-Five

We’d been back in London for almost a week. Work was almost done for the day, so I started packing up until my task was halted by my smartphone ringing. It was a number I didn’t recognise, so I answered wearily.

“Hello?”

“Evey, it’s Clinton. I hope you don’t mind me calling like this.” Clinton?

“Oh, um. Hi. No, I don’t mind. Is everything okay?”

“Of course. The thing is, I came to London late last night, and as I have no plans today, I thought we could catch up. Have dinner?” Dinner? Bloody hell it was getting even more bizarre.

“Dinner? Me and you?”

His laugh was small, as if to reassure me. “Why not?”

I couldn’t go to lunch with him alone. Parks would kill us both. He hated his father, and he wanted me a good thousand miles away from him. If more.

“Um.” Biting on my pen lid and ignoring the scowl I was getting from Clarke I quickly gave an alternative. “Why don’t you come to our apartment for dinner?” Shit. Immediately I regretted what I’d asked. But then I thought if I could get father and son together, they could somehow reconcile.

“Your apartment? Tonight?” He was thinking about it, but his tone told me he was already set on saying yes. “Sounds good to me. What time shall we say?”

I tilted my head to the side as I tried to work out what time I should invite him. He had to give me time to talk Parks around, which already seemed a mission impossible.

“Seven?”

“Perfect. See you then.” And he hung up. The monumental sag my body produced gave Clarke ammunition to question me.

“Everything all right?”

“God, I hope so.”

Five thirty was the very time of day I couldn’t wait for. It was the time of day I got to reconnect with the love of my life. That day I was hopeful for a cheery Parks. All week he’d been acting offish. Absent. Knowing I wasn’t the reason for his mood was reassuring, but not knowing what else it could have been was disturbing. I did have an inkling, though. He was having secret conversations with his mother about finding a woman. The same conversation they had when I was eavesdropping at Harriet’s mansion. Who were they trying to find?

The lift got to the top floor, and the glass was misted over. I nodded to Joanna as I passed and let myself in. Arresting green eyes clamped on my body immediately as I entered, and I got hit with the bewitching image of my lover, his dark, rumpled hair showing signs of a stressful day. His tight muscles were covered in a dark blue suit and white shirt but no tie. A shadow of dark stubble across his beautifully defined jaw made him look edible. But it was a sign of too much on his mind. Parks rarely went without shaving, thinking it made him look unappealing.

Like hell did it.

“Hey.” I smiled, crossing my ankle over the other as I stood before him, my insides aching and needing.

His gaze roamed to my heels and up my legs that were covered from the knee up in a black leather pencil skirt. Then they came onto my white blouse I’d unbuttoned a little while I was in the lift. It gave only him a glimpse of the black lace bra I was hiding underneath.

“Princess.” His sigh was unsettled. “Come here.” Pushing out from under his desk, he made room for me to take a seat on his lap. I dropped my bag from my shoulder and gladly plonked myself onto him, snaking my arms around his neck.

“You okay?” I was hoping he didn’t already know about his father coming for dinner. I thought I would make it a surprise. I was crazy.

Instead of answering me, he kissed me. Deeply. His tongue dipping in and diving around. His hands pulling across my blouse and cupping my breasts as he moaned against my lips.

“No,” he admitted, pulling my breast from its cup and lashing my nipple with his tongue.

“Why?” I gripped his hair, dishevelling it even more.

“Because I have an urgent meeting I have no choice but to get to.”

“Here?” I caught my bottom lip with my teeth.

“In my other building a couple of blocks down. Do you mind?” He brushed the pad of his thumb across my nipple, taking my mouth with his again.

“Yes,” I admitted against his lips and shifted so I could reach his delicious hardness with my palm. Of course I minded. Selfishly, I wanted him all to myself, but I knew I had to share him with hundreds of businessmen and women. Well, only in the time sense.

“Thought so.” He lifted me, wrapped my legs around his waist, and carried me over to the sofa that was in his office. There he sat me down, bent in front of me, and knelt between my open legs. He ripped up my skirt so it was over my arse and pulled aside my knickers.

Joanna’s voice came over the speaker, making me jump. “Mr. Parks, your car is waiting outside, sir.”

“Shit,” Parks groaned, pulled my knickers back into place, and helped me to my feet. “You’re flushed.” He tugged down my skirt and placed a stray lock behind my ear.

“And I need you. Please come home.”

He ignored me coldly and gathered his belongings. “Cleaver is waiting. I’ll see you tonight.”

My frown was deep when I tried to push all my hair back into place. “You’re going to be all night?” Shit, what was I going to say to Clinton?

“Sorry.” He shrugged.

He was gesturing me to lead the way with his hand, but I stared at him thoughtfully. “Where have you gone this week?”

He narrowed confused eyes at me. “I’m not following?”

“You’ve been distant, mentally. Physically you’ve been closer than ever. Wrapped around me at night. Making love to me until I fall asleep. But there’s hardly been any words.”

His sigh hurt me because it sounded like I was being a nuisance. “Things on my mind.” He made for the door and opened it up for me to leave first.

“What things?” I dug my Louboutins into the carpet, forcing a frown to form across his forehead.

He glanced behind me to warn Joanna to stop gawping, then he settled his gaze back on me. “Things I don’t want to concern you about. And before you say it, no, not because I don’t think you’re strong enough to hear them.”

I caught his sleeve. “Then why?”

He dipped his head briefly. Who cared if I was banging on? The way he shut me out of his deep and personal feelings hurt me. Opening up to him was both scary and refreshing for me. I just wished he would do the same. He loves me. And I love him. What else could possibly get in the way of that?

“I’ll walk you to the car.”

My sigh came out as frustrated as I intended it to be. I picked up my bag from where I dropped it and sauntered past him.

Back home, I got changed into a yellow dress, then started on dinner. I had tried to call Clinton to cancel, but he hadn’t answered my calls. Neither did he reply to the three voice messages I left him. Nevertheless, I wanted to ask Clinton a couple of questions. I knew it was wrong, but if Parks wasn’t going to give me answers, maybe Clinton would.

Mindlessly chopping carrots, I mumbled along to Sia’s “Fire Meet Gasoline,” which seemed to take my mind off things. That was until I saw a shadow in the corner of my eye. Quickly, I turned down the music and spun around with the knife in my hand.

“Whoa there, Evelyn.”

“Clinton?” What the hell was he doing creeping in like that?

“Sorry I scared you. I told the fine gentlemen at the door who I was, and he let me right up. I did knock but you couldn’t have heard me.” He nodded towards the music station. “My son is still at work, I take it?” Clinton glanced around the apartment, his eyes scanning every detail, trying to pick at something.

“He’ll be all night. I tried to call you to cancel, but you didn’t answer.” Being around Clinton made me second-guess myself. Parks had warned me to stay away from him. There must have been a reason. But it wasn’t his fault. I’d asked him around for dinner. Although, in my defence, I didn’t know Parks was not going to be present.

Clinton was finely dressed in a sharp black suit with a matching double-breasted waistcoat. He even had a gold pocket watch hanging from one of the pockets. He was dashing for an older man, and I could definitely see where Parks got his looks from.

“So what brings you to London?” I wasn’t sure what else to say. Clinton was quite intimidating and not much intimated me, so it was a little awkward to make conversation.

“A few things.” He casually made his way towards the breakfast bar and placed the bag he was carrying on top before turning to face me. “It was you who I wanted to see, actually.”

“Me?” My throat dried up as I watched him take out a bottle of red wine.

“Hmm. I was hoping to catch you alone. Wade wants to keep you away from me.”

The feeling of uneasiness about his father was shortly followed by the image of the wine bottle. Half of me wanted to kick him out. I knew I should never have shared the same space as him. My gut was telling me as much. Especially with a wine bottle. But I was a glutton for punishment. Clearly. So I said nothing.

My curiosity grew. I wanted to know why Parks was warning me to stay away from him. What was so bad about this man?

Clinton quickly found two glasses and opened up the bottle. To me, he already seemed half-cut, but he hid his intoxication well. All I got from being around Parks’s family was that they didn’t like Clinton drinking. Maybe it was because he was a bad drunk. Or because Harriet founded COA, so of course the Parks family would have to keep up a reputation of being teetotal. Clinton, however, was a grown man and sure as hell wasn’t going to be told what to do.

He topped up the glasses halfway and handed me one. I held my hands up, refusing to take it. “I’m good. Thank you.”

His frown was apparent as his brows dipped. “Please, have a drink with me.” He was extremely persistent, and I didn’t want to get into a row about not accepting a drink from him. So instead of arguing the toss—which would have inevitably ended up with me blurting out I was in recovery—I took the glass, kept it in my hand, and just held it. Even holding it in my hand and smelling the expensive wine did nothing for me. No desire did I have to sip it. For that, I was, for once, proud of myself. I just hoped Clinton didn’t notice.

He took his glass to his lips and downed the wine, then poured himself another. He watched me thoughtfully as he twirled around the stem of the glass on the kitchen worktop.

“Tell me, are you happy with my son?”

Where did that come from? “I’m very happy.”

He nodded, deep in thought. “Good. I’m glad he’s spending time with someone other than himself.”

“Just out of curiosity, why don’t you get along?” Knowing full well curiosity killed the cat, I still continued to question it, swatting away the sane part of my brain that was telling me not to dabble.

His smirk was bordering malicious. “Wade is a very complex man, Evelyn. But he forgets, he wouldn’t be where he is today if it wasn’t for me. You have to push your kids in the right direction. You see—” He sighed out a deep breath before taking a seat on the barstool, then nudging to the one opposite, prompting me to take it. I took the invitation, if only to stop him looking at my legs.

“I used tough love on my children. If I didn’t, neither of them would have success like they have today. Wade doesn’t see it like that. He likes to ignore what I did for him.”

“Wade accomplished so much on his own, though.” Of course I was going to stick up for Parks. Never would I allow anyone to talk little of him. Not even his own father.

“But who put him at the top to begin with?” He tipped back the rest of his wine and poured another, thankfully oblivious to my un-sipped glass.

“You’re a beautiful woman, Evelyn. Yes, you are below what was expected for my son, but what you see in him is beyond me. He will drag you down. Blame you for his faults. I should know. I’ve been there.”

Clinton was serving me severe whiplash. In one sentence he was telling me I wasn’t good enough for his son, then he was warning me of his actions. Actions I didn’t believe for one minute.

“It’s his fault we don’t have a relationship. Now he’s built up his own empire, he wants to shun me. He thinks he’s above his own father. Above his family. When his purpose for you expires, Evelyn, he will throw you aside. Drop you. Wade is emotionless. Hard. Heartless. His work is his life.
You
will never be.”

Clinton telling me I would never mean as much to Parks as his work did cause a vague pain to hit a nerve. “Why are you telling me all this?”

“It’s the truth.” He shrugged, his facial expression coming off as menacing. I glanced down at the wine I was holding, and suddenly everything felt wrong. Clinton was trying to persuade me to leave Parks. Why? To hurt him? Parks was right. I should have stayed away from him. About to tip out the glass and throw Clinton out, my intentions were suddenly halted.

“Evelyn!” Parks’s bad-tempered tone cracked through the air, making my heart leap of its socket and bones out of my skin. His raging, darkened gaze darted towards the wine I held in my hand. Too shocked to move, to speak, I watched him march his way towards me. He snatched the glass out of my hand and slammed it down onto the top so violently, it splintered the glass, sending pieces smashing across the top. Immobilised from shock, my throat remained motionless, unable to form words.