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

Understanding a man like Parks was hard enough, so when he threw me that curveball, it smacked me head-on and sent me falling to my arse. I didn’t want to get to know him at first. I wanted him to leave me the hell alone. Although I was telling him no, the more I said it, the weaker my voice became. He was persuasive, seductive, and hot as hell, and the more I saw of him, the more I felt trapped under his spell. He was weakening me with feelings I needed to prevent and keep locked away. He could make my body spiral into the depths of the unknown and never want to be found again. Not only by the way he entranced me with those dirty words he would speak into my ear, or the way his vivid green eyes would capture me and hold me hostage. Parks had many talents that would saturate a woman’s knickers, but he also had the most frustrating attitude. I wanted to kill him at times, wanted to strangle the bastard when he wouldn’t leave me alone. I wanted to claw at him, scream until my face went blue. Nevertheless, I wanted him to f*ck me so hard, I would forget my own name and never call mercy. I wanted his pretty head between my thighs until he couldn’t breathe from the squeezing of my legs.

Now, his face, his sex, his eyes, wasn’t the problem. The problem was words. My words. Words I said to him after hours of incredible sex. Hours of letting him hold me in his arms and telling him he’d become my safe place. I’d never had a safe place, and as fast as I had gained one with him, it was taken away from me.

I took the ruby gemstone Parks gave me out of my pocket and stared at it for longer that I should have. “Fiery, captivating, gives me strength in times of conflict,” he said.

I scoffed. Strength? I had none.

Suddenly brewing with rage, I threw it across the room. It cracked the bedroom window and bounced back down onto the floor.

Fuck him. I didn’t need a safe place.

What I needed was a bottle of something that could make me forget what day it was.





Chapter Two





Seconds after the window cracked, my dad knocked my bedroom door. “You okay?” he asked as he peered in.

“Fine.” I swiped at a tear quickly, then wrapped my arms around myself. “Just cold. Can you put the heating on?”

“It’s April, kid, not December.”

The flat was freezing, and I knew why. “You have no gas, do you?”

The embarrassed shake of his head was enough to prove me right. I reached into my pocket and threw him thirty quid. “Go and get some gas, Dad. Jesus. Mum still in bed?”

He stuffed the money in his jeans pocket. “Yeah, she’s not well. Best not disturb her.”

I knew he was lying. “Does she know I’m here?”

“Not yet.” He patted me on the shoulder. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

Slumping onto the bed after I’d changed the sheets, I pulled out a bottle of vodka I had stashed in my suitcase and placed it beside me. I stared at it, willing myself to pour it away. Pleading with myself not to drink it. I didn’t need it. Did I? However, the bottle got the better of me. Alcohol won every time. I thought I was in control of myself, but I wasn’t. I was being controlled by an addiction I couldn’t fight.

I unscrewed the lid and took my first swig. It burnt my lips and numbed my throat, but it helped numb the pain of feelings. I was stupid to ever say what I did to Parks. I opened up to him slightly and he abandoned me just like he said he wouldn’t. It was the dumbest thing to have ever done. Thoughts of him burned an empty hole inside me that needed filling, and I knew exactly what to fill it with.

Alcohol.



***



My smartphone rang, waking me up after I’d drunk myself to sleep. I’d vaguely heard it ringing in my sleep, but I didn’t have the willpower to wake up before. I fumbled around for it, finding it hard to open my eyes.


“Hello.” My voice was hoarse. I had no energy whatsoever.

“What the hell do you think you’re playing at, Evey? Where are you?”

Shit. It was Carla. Her monotonous voice sent a spike of pain to my head, making me clutch at my temple. “I’m sick.” I put on a sick voice to accompany my words and coughed pathetically.

“Didn’t you think to inform Melisa?”

“I’ve just woken up. Sorry.” I wasn’t. And I hated that I’d said it.

“You’re walking on a very thin line, Evey. You knew full well Clarke needed you this week for his temp.”

“I won’t be in for the rest of the week. I feel really bad.” I closed my eyes, waiting for her to fire me.

“You can take one week. I want to see you here Monday morning. Otherwise, you’re out.”

Jesus. Carla giving me another chance was unheard of. She must have had dick that morning.

Pulling on a grey jumper over my pyjamas, I walked into the living room and saw my mum on the couch wearing a puffer coat. She looked freezing as she watched Jeremy Kyle.

“Mum?” I inquired. “If you’re cold, put the damn heating on.”

She started coughing but made no attempt to turn and acknowledge me. “Your Dad told me you were crashing for a few days. You better be paying your way.”

I wrapped my jumper around myself and took the sofa opposite her, choosing not to sit next to her. “Yes, Mum. I wouldn’t expect you to take me in out of the kindness of your cold heart, would I? Besides, I gave Dad money for gas this morning, so why isn’t the heating on?”