Denying Mr. Parks (The Parks #1) (11 page)

With blurry vision I watched Parks’s jaw clench. “Then if it is, do it properly.” It was a dark and stern command. Alex glared at him whilst Clarke’s gaze wandered back and forth between the two men. I shook my head at the pair of them and turned on my heel, losing balance and falling into Clarke.

“Good grief, Evey.” Clarke stumbled, but Parks was by my side in an instant to pull me to my feet. As he balanced me, my woozy eyes peered upwards to look into his vivid green pair. His eyes softened like he was concerned for my well-being. Like he knew there was a reason, a hidden agenda as to why I got so drunk.

Alex took my arm, breaking our contact and gently pulled me away. “Come on. We’re leaving.”

I could tell by Parks’s darkening features that he hated every second of having to let another man take me home. But I wasn’t his. So he needn’t bother.

Alex drove me home and let me into my flat as I couldn’t quite find the keyhole with my key. I stumbled through the door, trying to be as quiet as possible, but I kept giggling and telling Alex to shush even though he wasn’t talking. Suddenly the living room lights came on, and I was greeted by the wrathful glare of Steph in her pink, fluffy dressing gown and rabbit slippers.

She gasped like the wind had taken her breath away. “You’re drunk?”

I rudely giggled and walked up to her, wrapped my arms around her neck, and flopped my head on her shoulder. All the while she was shouting at Alex. “What the fuck? She hasn’t drunk for almost a year, and you accompany her out and she gets in this state?”

“Steph, I tried to stop her, but you know how she gets. She wouldn’t listen. What was I meant to do?”

“I don’t believe this. You’re too soft, Al!”

All I remember was Steph putting me to bed and falling asleep to the sound of her and Alex arguing.

Fuck.

What had I done?

Chapter Ten

I got up early next morning intentionally. I didn’t have a hangover and felt better than I deserved. Quickly, I showered, got dressed, and snuck out of my bedroom. Steph’s bedroom door was still shut, and that alone created a pang of relief.

It was a Sunday, and I didn’t intend on going to see my dad, but I needed to get out of the house. I knew I was going to have a row with Steph when she woke, but doing it on a Sunday morning wouldn’t have been my preference.

I took my smartphone from my bag before I left and saw the eight missed calls from Parks, then the two text messages telling me to call him. I ignored him, threw my phone on to sofa, and took hold of my iPod instead.

I walked to a nearby coffee shop, grabbed a coffee to go, set my iPod up to Ellie Goulding’s “Starry Eyed,” plugged my earphones in, and then made my way to the Tube station. It took me to Peckham, where my dad lived in a small flat on a council estate. People thought the estate was rough, saying the crime rate there was one of the worst in London, but as I’d grown up around there, I’d defend it to my death. Of course, I did get into the wrong crowds growing up, and maybe I was influenced to do bad things, but most young kids are. And sometimes I was the influencer. I wasn’t proud of it, but that was my past, and I had to learn to let it go. However, it always seemed to keep coming back around into my future.

I walked into the estate and climbed the stairs to the eleventh floor until I was standing outside the red, battered door to number 133. I put my key into the keyhole and sagged. I hated it. Hated not knowing what was going to be on the other side…whether devastation or peace. It wasn’t just that, either. The memories my parents’ flat held still haunted me. But I had to be strong because that was what I wanted to be. That was what I
had
to be.

Opening the door, I instantly got hit with the smell of cleaning polish, bleach, and about twenty air fresheners. Okay, it wasn’t a bad start. Unusual, but not bad. I walked through the narrow hallway and across the brown, frayed carpet that had never been updated. Even the writing on the walls I did as a child was still visible on the cold, bare concrete.

I found my dad in the living room with a cigarette hanging from his mouth and window cleaner and a cloth in his hands. Okay, he’d gone into restoration mode. It was better than any other mode. He was shimmying to Stevie Wonder and was so engrossed in his task he hadn’t spotted me yet.

“Cleaning spree, Dad?” I shouted over the music, dumfounded at what I was seeing. When he turned around, his amber eyes, just like mine, lit up all vivaciously. Stubbing out his cigarette in a nearby ashtray, he beamed. “Evey, my love. You came.” It was the same smile of hope he always plastered on when he saw me since I’d moved out. When he brought me into a hug, I flinched, the same as I always did. I had never been able to hug my dad since I was a young child. I could never really have close contact with anybody.

“It smells good in here, Dad. I can actually see you have a carpet on the floor.”

He chuckled nervously, released me from his hug, and patted down the sides of his long hairdo that looked like it had been cut by Edward Scissorhands. He was always shaky, always pale, and too skinny. “I need to get the place looking spic-and-span for your ma’s return.” He sheepishly looked away from me so he wouldn’t catch my reaction.

“What?” I felt my face drop and my heart do the same. “She’s coming home? I thought she was…”

“Yes, Evey, she was. But listen, she’s finished her time in rehab. You should see her now. She’s changed.”

She’s changed? If I had a penny for every time I heard that, I would be wealthier than Parks. I couldn’t believe it. My mother could not come home, and I stressed that point to him ceaselessly.

“Dad, you promised me this wouldn’t happen.”

He sank onto the sofa, looking torn, rubbing his aged face with his hands. He was only forty-nine, yet he looked ten years his senior. “Look, she’s different now. You ain’t seen her in what? A year? Everyone deserves second chances, don’t they?”

I bit the inside of my cheek and shook my head. “She’s had more than two chances! I can’t believe you’re letting her come home after everything you said. You got yourself clean, Dad. You did it for you this time. You’re better now. She’ll bring you down like she always does. Please, don’t do this.” I was almost begging him because the thought of my mother coming home was so painful, it brought on tons of anxiety. Being around my dad also did the same, but I tried to deal with it, as I wanted a relationship with him at that point. I also craved a relationship with my mum once. But now she could do a run and jump for all I cared.

“Evey, you have your own life now. What do I have? I’m a lonely old man who has nothing. Aren’t I allowed to be happy?”

He thought I had a life? He thought I was happy? That I wasn’t alone? I heaved out a shaky breath and counted to ten. There was no point in trying to reason with him. He never listened. Broken promises, lies, and deceit. That was what I got from both my parents, and I always would. If others lied to me, if they deceived me, they would never have another chance with me, so why I always gave chances to my parents was something I could never grasp.

“You want to stay for some food?” he asked, trying to cheer me up.

“You’re cooking?” My tone had more than a bit of surprise.

“Yes. Chicken curry for lunch. Want some?”

I looked into his hopeful amber eyes that were bloodshot and tired and gave in. “Sure, why not,” I said, dropping my bag off my shoulder.

“Thanks, kid. I’m happy you came, Evey. You know how happy it makes me when I get to spend time with my only daughter.”

“I know, Dad. I’m glad I came too.”

He wandered off into the kitchen, and I sagged down onto the ripped and stained sofa in the bare living room. There were no photographs up of any of the family, or me. While we did have some when I was younger, in pretty glass frames, they were always smashed. Being at home made me extremely anxious, but I had to try and grin and bear it for my dad.

***

“Evelyn Lizzie Banks, what the hell were you playing at last night?” Steph raged at me like a crazed buffoon as soon as I stepped over the threshold.

“Steph, calm down. I can explain.”

She threw her hands up in the air, swearing and ranting. Her hair was a mess, her mascara was down her face, and she was still in her pyjamas. “Explain? You were fucked off your fucking face, and you think you can explain that?”

I couldn’t get a word in. Steph was dramatic at the best of times, so in the end I had to shout over her and agree I was in the wrong before she let me speak. “Okay, Steph. You’re right. I can’t explain. I had a drink and it got out of hand. There is no explanation. But I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Her bereaved expression made me feel helpless as she sank onto the sofa and planted her face in her palms. “Evey, I can’t go through this with you again. Just when I think you’re getting better, you go and do something like this. What about our trust? Your promises?” She started to get leery as she reflected on that difficult time in both our lives. “I helped you, Evey, for weeks when you were sweating out, shaking, fighting me, cursing me, and all for a fucking drink. I made you go cold turkey. That was me! It was me who had to watch my best friend go down the path of destruction, and it was also me who helped you get your life back on track, and now you go and pull a stunt like this?”

I refrained from rolling my eyes. Steph was a Libra and allowed all her emotions to pour out. She was sensitive, cried a lot, and always felt she needed reassurance. I was an Aquarius. I held things together as a front, kept my emotions in, and hardly ever cried, or if I did, I would never allow someone to see.

I sat next to Steph cautiously and took her hand into my lap. “Look, it wasn’t like before. I didn’t drink to block anything out. I was having fun and stupidly got carried away. That’s all.”

She sniffed pitifully. “So you’re not going back to that place? Because I can’t go back there with you, Evey.”

“No, I just slipped. I’m sorry. But I promise it won’t happen again.” I wouldn’t tell her the real reason for my intoxication. I hated that I was lying. Lies are what kill people, but sometimes they helped to protect the ones you cared for.

“I knew I shouldn’t have let you go. You can’t put yourself in social situations that involve alcohol anymore. Alex should have known better.”

“Alex was great. Don’t blame him.”

She sighed deeply as she rose to her feet. Needing to leave the conversation at a rest, I changed the subject.

“I went to see my dad today,” I told her gingerly.

“Oh?” She stopped outside her bedroom door. “How did it go?”

I shrugged causally, glancing down to where my smartphone bleeped on the sofa. “The usual. He cooked for me.” I smirked at her astounded expression. “Said my mum’s coming home,” I added on a murmur.

Her body stiffened. “What? He’s taking her back?”

“Yep, said she’s a…”

“Changed woman?” Steph finished off my sentence, exasperated. “He’s crazy. You’re better off without them, Evey.”

I knew that. But telling me my parents—my mother in particular—were bad news and that I should cut them out of my life for good was easier said than done.

I wandered into my bedroom, sprawled across my bed with my legs up, and opened my text messages. One was from Alex, asking me if he could take me to the cinema to make up for the previous night. It was just like him. Taking the blame for something he didn’t do. I really didn’t want to go, but I also didn’t want to say no and let him down. After all, the night was ruined because of me. Thinking about it brought back the memory of Parks. The way he demanded to taste me. The way he
did
taste me. My body had been subjected to feelings and sensations I hadn’t discovered until last night. The way he looked at me afterwards particularly stuck in my mind. It was almost like he sensed my vulnerability and could see through my walls. Even though I didn’t want to become transparent to him, I did a stupid thing like letting him hold me. I never let anyone hold me, even for a moment after an intimate act. But I knew Parks was not the man for me. He was dynamite, waiting for someone like me to light his fuse. And when he exploded, I would be the one left wounded. He didn’t realise I was already wounded, already damaged. That being said, I was rebuilding, and I couldn’t allow him to break me back down into broken pieces. I knew what I felt for Alex was diminutive, but he was safe. He wouldn’t hurt me. He wouldn’t tell me what to do, argue, or shout. He would be good for me. But I inevitably hurt everything that was good for me, and I really didn’t want to do that to him.

I texted him back, saying it was a good idea, then read my other text. My heart sank as soon as I did. It was from Parks again.

Wade: I need to see you, Evelyn. I can’t get you off my mind. Call me.

I closed my eyes on a deep breath and replied.

Me: I have a date tonight, besides, I don’t want to see you again. Leave me alone.

Wade: A date with whom?

Me: Alex.

I didn’t get a reply from him after that. I could imagine if he had the strength of the Incredible Hulk he would have squashed his phone into tiny pieces in his palm.

I didn’t bother getting changed for the cinema. I just tidied my ponytail up and met Alex outside my flat. He was dressed in old jeans that were frayed at the bottoms, trainers, and a blue jumper that brought out his blue eyes. I climbed into the taxi he booked, wondering why he didn’t bring his car.

“I thought we’d head to the Odeon in Leicester Square. That cool?”

“Sure.”

We didn’t talk much on the way. Alex gave me the lowdown on the football scores that day, even though I wasn’t remotely interested, but at least it avoided the discussion about the previous night’s antics.

When we got inside the cinema, we bought our tickets and waited in line for popcorn, where we got talking to some of Alex’s friends that were going to watch the same film. They all nudged Alex at the sight of me, winking and eying me up like men do. Alex’s face glowed like a beacon at their ribbing, but I left them talking about more football and glanced around yawning and most of all, trying to ignore Alex’s attempts to hold my hand. Then I saw
him
, and my face dropped, my smile fading. No. It wasn’t happening. There was no way he could have known where I was. My heart rate quickened as my gaze ran down his sex-god body graced with dark blue jeans, a dark blue jumper, and brown shoes. Casual and oh so hot. He looked bored to death as he yawned and lifted up his cuff to check his watch.

It was almost like he felt my presence from across the room as I spotted him. He momentarily glanced up from his watch and caught my wide-eyed gaze. I didn’t look down; instead, I glared at him. This was in no way a coincidence.

I watched horrified as he worked his way through the crowd towards me and quickly turned my attention back to Alex. “So is this film any good?” I asked to distract him and myself. But it didn’t come out confidently. I knew from looking into Alex’s eyes as he was about to answer that Parks was standing behind me. I turned hesitantly and saw him posing as casual as they come.