Addicted to Mr Parks (The Parks Series #2)(14)

Parks stiffened. “Alex already knew. Steph sprung it on me out of nowhere. Didn’t you think to tell me at all?”

“I was in recovery, Parks. It had nothing to do with you.”

“Well, forgive me if I’m wrong, but you don’t drink when you’re in recovery.”


“Oh, so you know all about it, do you?”

That particular question apparently speared through his shield. He held it up so well, but I saw the way he faltered before straightening out again. “I’m simply stating the obvious.”

My eyes narrowed at his snarky choice of words. Did the subject hit a nerve for him? There was no way a man of his calibre was an alcoholic or even a recovering one. He didn’t even drink. Although I knew little about him, I was certain alcohol hit close to home. Whether I was going to find out if I was right, though, was unlikely.

“I was in recovery for almost a year, Parks. Before you came along and f*cked it all up. My life took ten steps back after I met you. I thought I was my own worst enemy, but I’m not. You are. The things I want in my life kill me, and I don’t know how to deal with it, so I wish for nothing. I don’t ever see a way out.”

He closed his eyes briefly, then took firm hold of my hand again, not wanting to let go. “Then let me help you.”

My shoulders sagged. “Where have you been this past week when I needed help?”

“Living in purgatory.” He sighed, as if he wanted the words to remain hidden, but forced them out. “When I left you, it was like walking out of heaven and straight back into hell again. I thought staying away would be the appropriate option for both of us. But now I see that staying away from you isn’t going to work.”

My heart fluttered with hope at his words. He thought life without me was like living in hell? Well, hell was where I always was. Maybe I should have met him there.

“My life is broken. I have more demons living inside my head than the devil. Why would you want to drag yourself into my shit?”

He took my knuckles to his soft lips and spoke tenderly against them. “Because I see something inside you that resembles perfection, Evelyn. And I want that. I want you.”

I swallowed down a pesky ball in my throat. “You want me, after all this?”

Parks stared tenderly into my eyes, tilting his head to the side. “I want us. Together. You’re beautiful, Evelyn. So beautiful and precious to me. I can’t deny that. And you can’t deny me.”

Maybe I couldn’t, and maybe what he confessed did pull at my heartstrings, but there was that word again—maybe. And maybe was never conclusive.

He kissed my hand again, and he spoke against my skin—his words cutting me apart. “I want to hold the key to your heart, Evelyn.”

My head shook if only slightly. “That key is dead and buried.”

“Then I will make it my duty to find it.” My eyes flicked up to his, my heart absorbing, but he wasn’t finished. “Come home with me. I can get you the best help.”

That’s when I flipped. “I don’t need help,” I screamed so loudly that Cheryl came running in.

“What’s all the shouting?”

“Cheryl,” I heaved, getting worked up and pointing to Parks, “tell him I don’t need help.” I would inevitably panic every time someone told me I needed help because it forced me to face my problem. My past. My demons and issues. But I wasn’t strong enough to face them.

Her soft eyes topped up with tears and compassion as she stared at me. “Evey, I can’t tell him that because I agree. You need help, my love.”

My eyes narrowed for a second as I gulped down the ball in my throat. She agreed with him? I wanted to tell them both to get out, to leave me alone, but my life had suddenly come crashing down on me like a pile of rocks, hitting my head so hard they knocked some sense into me.

Unexpected tears fogged my vision, and my tired, exhausted eyes closed. I heard Cheryl suddenly burst into tears. And as I opened my eyes, I saw her trying to suppress her own torment with a hand over her mouth because she’d never seen me cry. She also hesitated to walk over to me and wrap me up in her arms because she knew I couldn’t deal with affection. Affection, nice comments, sympathy, they were all for the weak. I didn’t need any of that because I was strong. I didn’t need reassurance, didn’t need love. Or so I thought.

I looked down at the bed, my eyes closed and I let tears slip onto the bedsheets. Parks took my face into his hands and softly urged me to look at him. When I opened my eyes, I saw sympathy in his green eyes as if they were absorbing my suffering. His features overflowed with angst. “Evelyn, I don’t know the full extent of what darkness you have to live with on a daily basis, but please accept my help to bring you back into the light.”

I bit my wobbly lip, crushing any sobs threatening to escape, then I looked around the hospital room. My parents, my feelings, Parks…everything seemed to have been thrown at me, and the way I coped with it was destroying me. Was I wrong to accept help from a man that was partly cause to my suffering? His help had to be better than killing myself, surely?


“If you take me, you need to take all of me, Parks. My past, my present, my issues, my f*ckups—”

“I wouldn’t take anything less.” His confidence was strong. He meant it, but I needed to make sure he meant it.