Addicted to Mr Parks (The Parks Series #2)(58)

Number 33 was the next tatty, old door, and I was quick to knock and get inside.

“Evey.” Tabby welcomed me in with open arms, and my gaze roamed over her gorgeously tall, slim figure draped in a tight-fitted black dress. Her blonde hair was straight and flowy and her makeup light. She didn’t really need any. She was flawless.


“Hey.” My arms were wrapped around myself as I stepped over the threshold, my gaze taking in the small living room. It was pretty basic but nice enough. A massive improvement from the outside. “Do you live by yourself?”

“Yep.” She shrugged. “My family abandoned me when I was fifteen. I’ve learned to cope by myself. This flat is all I can afford with my wages at Starbucks.”

Oh shit. She said it so causally, it took me a beat to adjust to her words. “I had no idea,” I added quickly, feeling instant sympathy.

“Don’t feel bad,” she scoffed. “Revenge is sweet.” She smiled angelically.

Maybe we had more in common than I thought. Was that why she sort of gravitated towards me? The unexpected reason I felt sorry for her suddenly dawned on me. I’d never guessed in a million years that her life was the way it was, but I always knew that a broken soul attracted another broken soul.

I made my way towards the armchair and perched on the cushion. “Are we meeting the others at the club?”

Tabby’s gaze shifted away from me. “They’re not coming; it’s just us.”

“Oh. I thought—”

“They’re busy,” she quickly added. “Anyway—” she perched on the opposite chair, “—what’s the deal with you and Wade?”

Where did that come from? “Um…” I was hesitant because I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to tell her about my relationship. Sure, I wanted to secure our bond as new friends, but this still felt a bit too intimate for a first conversation.

“It’s okay.” She giggled, clearly sensing my discomfort. “I’m not going to blab to anybody.”

I kind of trusted her, but I wasn’t about to give her the juicy details of my relationship just yet. “We’re taking things slow. He gets me, and I get him. That’s all you need to know.”

She smiled as if my words were cute and lashed a pink gloss over her lips. “Is he protective over you? I mean, I’d love that, a protective boyfriend who would do anything for me,” she gushed dreamily, which made me feel like gushing, but I held back.

“You could say that.”

“Was he okay with you coming out tonight?” My expression told her he wasn’t. “Oh. I didn’t get you in any trouble, did I?” she said quickly.

“No.” My brows pulled together. “He thinks I’m with my best friend at a restaurant.”

A smirk crept up her pretty face. “You lied?” Why was she so happy about that?

“Yes, he gave me his card and told me to pay for our meal too. Which made me feel like shit. Long story,” I added when her head moved in closer for the details.

“Drinks on Wade.” She clapped her hands.

“No way. Anyway, I don’t drink.”

“Spoilsport,” she teased with a childish poke of her tongue. “I’m just going to fetch my bag.” She presumably went into her bedroom, leaving me alone for a few moments. Glancing around the bare walls, I felt a sense of sorrow because she had no photographs, but then my smartphone bleeped, pulling me away from browsing. It was a text from an unknown number.



Anonymous: Your days are numbered.



“What the f*ck?” I almost dropped my phone, and Tabby came rushing out of the bedroom to see what I was yelling about so quickly that she tripped, sending her handbag flying out of her hands and scattering the contents across the floor.

“Shit.” I scrambled to help her up, then began to gather her belongings.

“I’ll get those.” It was almost a snap, and I wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t snatched it from my hands. It was a white medication box will a label that read Zyprexa.

Tabby saw my frown. “I’m sorry,” she said immediately. “I have bad anxiety.”

The shaking of my head and hands told her it was none of my business if she was taking medication or not. “Shall we get going?” I suggested, picking up my own bag and shoving my phone inside, choosing to ignore the anonymous text. It was an obvious threat from Gabe. But the thought of him getting hold of my number niggled away at me. The angst and frustration he caused me would normally send me reaching for a vodka. But my needs had changed. I wanted Parks. Seeing as that was a no-go, I had to try and ride through the tunnel of anxiety.

We took a cab to Project, and to calm myself down, I stared out the window and counted the streetlamps as they passed.

Tabby nudged my shoulder. “You thinking of your boyfriend?” she teased.

I took my phone out of my bag. “I think I should tell him where I’m going.”


Tabby seemed to panic slightly. “But he doesn’t like you going out, does he?” She must have sensed my anxious behaviour, so making me feel worse wasn’t the way to help me.

“It’s not that. It’s just that he’s totally against alcohol. So telling him I’m going to a club will make him crazy.”