Addicted to Mr Parks (The Parks Series #2)(118)

Thankfully, two men came bounding up the stairs in an instant.

“Get him the f*ck out of my sight.” Parks heaved to the security men, who dragged a battered Clinton to his feet. I hardly recognised him. His face was black and blue, blooded and swollen.

My spine was cold. Paralyzed by utter shock. I knew Parks had a temper, but Jesus.

“Is that what you wanted?” Parks yelled, his white shirt scattered with blood. His eyes dark and anything but the emeralds I was used to.

“Of course not.” I was crying out of shock. Feeling pain for Parks but confusion as to why he would beat his own father.

“Then why deceive me, Evelyn? Why the f*ck do you have to meddle in my life?”

“I was trying to help.”

“By calling my father?” he spat, still heaving from the beating he’d given out. “Being alone with him? Drinking together? You’re both disgraceful.”

“I never touched it. I swear to you.” I pulled on his arm, only for my hand to be knocked out of the way. He was over the boundaries of anger, burning up physically but mentally cold.

“You deliberately betrayed me, Evelyn. I swear to God I want to spank the shit out of you right now.”

“Then go ahead,” I screamed in his face, tears of anger streaming. “Do it! Because it’s so much better than you ignoring me. Leaving me. All I wanted to do was help you like you help me. I want to be there for you, Wade. Like you are for me.” I went to touch his arm again, but he brushed me off and walked away from me.

“I don’t need your f*cking help.”

Wow. That stung. How much he persisted with his statement of not wanting help didn’t falter my need to help him, though. I wanted to help my wounded solider, but I needed to know the cause.

I was almost whimpering. Talking to his back. “How is it okay for you to help me and not me help you?”

He cursed under his breath. “Get out, Evelyn. You’re not safe around me when I’m like this.” He turned and left me alone in the kitchen, heading downstairs in a fiery rage. My feet stayed, my mind contemplating what to do. Follow the Incredible Hulk? Or leave? Leaving wasn’t even an option. Running wasn’t a choice. Stay and confront was my decision.

Heading downstairs, I heard the thuds of the punch bag Parks had in his gym. I didn’t hesitate to go into the room, but what I saw halted my breath. Parks was standing naked, his fists bruised and full of blood as he pounded them viciously into the punch bag. His powerful biceps were tightening. The hard abs of his stomach tensing between each blow, sweat falling from his temples. The room filling up with the sounds of his jabs and curses.

“Wade, please let me in.” My begging was ignored as I held on to the doorjamb, my heart puncturing the longer I stared at his tortured expression. My heavy lids began to close at the cruel sight of a powerful man who was so in control of himself, his biggest fear was losing it. Tears flowed at the mental torment Parks went through on a daily basis. His demons were stored away in his head, and the only person who knew of his pain was him.

“Just talk to me,” I yelled after a moment of silence.

“Go away, Evelyn,” he growled, punching harder. My instinct was to reach out to him, so I began to move forwards until his green, piercing eyes looked up and pinned me fiercely in place.

“Don’t,” he warned, his entire body straining, his muscles growing thick and hard from tensing.

“Why?” I swallowed what felt like a pill in my throat. “Do you want to hurt me?”

“I want to punish you so f*cking severely, you won’t be able to sit down for a week.”

“Then do it,” I screamed, my voice echoing around the room.

Like a predator about to kill, he marched towards me and caught me harshly by the wrists. He was pushing me backwards, forcing me out of the room.

“No.” With all my might, I struggled against his grip, pushing and digging in my heels. Begging him not to shut me out. “Please, don’t close the door on me.”

“Then you shouldn’t have interfered in my business, Evelyn. I told you to stay away from my father, and you disobeyed my wishes.” He threw me out of the gym, making me fall back onto my arse and slammed the door in my face. Even locking it from the inside. I scrambled to my feet and began punching and kicking the door.

“Wade, let me in.” The persistence of my banging, screaming, and crying went on for some time. My body was aching, but I persevered, trying to make him open up. “Please,” I begged weakly.

After at least thirty minutes, the door swung open. Dark eyes hard and wrathful hit me insidiously. “You just won’t f*cking give up will you?”


“What are you doing?” I stumbled as he took hold of my arm.

“Sending you home.” He was about to drag me to the lift, so I pushed myself away from him and ran up the stairs, knowing he’d follow.

When he rounded the top of the stairs, he was about to lunge at me, but my fingers caught the bottom of my dress, pulling it up over my head, making him come to an abrupt stop.

“You see, these are the scars I have to live with.” I pointed to them as they were exposed across my stomach, then I pointed to my temple. “In here are cruel memories that never seem to go away. But you, you erase them with one touch of your hand. You make them disappear by telling me it’s going to be okay. Please, let me tell you it’s going to be okay. Let me be your happy. Be your safe.” Both of us were exposed, and there was nowhere else to hide.