Addicted to Mr Parks (The Parks Series #2)(62)

I automatically recoiled, my eyes widening, and I vaguely heard Cleaver clear his throat from the front. He seemed to be warning Parks, and Parks listened. His body sagged and his eyes closed, but he turned away from me and stared out the window.

We drove to his apartment in silence, and when we arrived, he was so mad he didn’t even open the door for me. I let myself out, slipped off my heels, and followed him into the lift barefoot. He punched in his code aggressively. “You know how hard it is for me to restrain myself right now? All I want to do is f*cking spank the shit out of you for being so f*cking stupid.”

The doors pinged open when we reached the apartment, and I marched in first. My temper was building, and I wasn’t going to keep quiet. “You can’t punish me with rage when you think I’ve misbehaved,” I screamed as he stormed past me and up the spiral stairs. I ran up the steps, trying to catch up to him.

“Leave me alone, Evelyn,” he warned quietly, but I wasn’t listening.

“You can’t threaten me with a spanking every time you think I need punishment,” I pushed as I followed him.

He spun around to face me. “I don’t know how else to deal with it.” His jaw was clenched, and he spread his arms wide. “I don’t know how else to deal with anger and emotion. I lash out. My temper is not to be messed with.”

I took his hands, trying to calm him down, but he pushed them away, brushing his hands through his hair instead.

“We talk. Argue.” I shrugged as I reeled off suggestions. “It doesn’t always have to end up with a spanking.”

“Then why don’t you ever listen to your own advice? Instead of working through your emotions, you numb yourself with alcohol. My coping mechanism is to lash out. To discipline.”

“But I’m changing,” I yelled, hating that he was throwing my issues in my face.

Pressing his palms onto the kitchen worktop, he bowed his head between his arms. “Then why was there a purchase made for three bottles of champagne tonight?”

My gulp was hard. “That wasn’t me. She nicked your card when I was in the toilet.”

“She?” He blinked. “And who is this friend? Seems to me she’s leading you astray.”

“I never touched any of the damn stuff. Anyway—” I narrowed my eyes, a little confused. “How did you even know where I was?”


Exasperated, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “You called me. Accidently. I heard the background noise and called you back.”

I thought about it for a second. Tabby had my phone. Maybe she pressed Call by mistake?

“Is it too hard for you to say that actually I did well tonight? I’m trying to sort out my issues, and you’re not helping me.”

“I’m trying.” His voice was an antagonised whisper. “I really am. But you’re so difficult.” I stayed back, shifting side to side on bare feet, watching his tense body finally relax a little. “I’m so afraid of hurting you,” he breathed out with painful guilt.

I shook my head. “You wouldn’t hurt me. I know you wouldn’t.” I walked towards him and placed my hand on his shoulder, but he quickly brushed it off.

“Get to bed. Get some sleep.”

Frowning in confusion, I called after him as he sauntered back downstairs. “Are you not coming to bed with me?”

He ignored me.





Chapter Twenty





On Friday morning, I went to work alone. Parks wasn’t next to me when I awoke; neither was he anywhere to be found in his apartment. What I did find, though, was breakfast made for me and a text on my phone, telling me Cleaver would be waiting to take me to work.

When he was avoiding me or ignoring me, I felt lost. My solace was fractured, and if he wasn’t in a good place, neither was I.

Before I climbed out of the car, I asked a favour from Cleaver. “Cleaver, could you take me to Brighton this evening? Wade and I are supposed to be visiting my aunt this weekend. Seems he’s forgotten, but I’d still like to go.”

His eyes shifted uncomfortably. “Does Wade know this?”

“Yes.” I sighed, frustrated. “But he’s not talking to me. If you won’t take me, I’ll take the train.”

“Evey.” Cleaver shifted to face me. “Forgive me for saying, but Wade’s actions are either blunt and forthcoming or subtle. He puts signs of his feelings out there without actually saying the words, if you catch my drift.” He chuckled, trying to make a potentially deep conversation casual.

Cleaver telling me what I already knew was heart-warming because it proved he cared. Parks showed me his feelings, buying me endless gifts and clothes, treating me like a princess, and showing me how much he loved my body, but those were all actions. I’d told him I needed words. Words were vital to me, but he still hadn’t done that. Sure, he’d thrown me abrupt words and words of control, but he’d never actually come out with words of how he really, deeply felt.

“Thanks, Cleaver. See you later.” I pushed out of the car and landed my heels on the pavement. I did contemplate running over to Starbucks to see Tabby but decided against it. I tried to call her that morning, but her phone was switched off. I hoped she was all right. She definitely deserved an explanation.

“Morning, my girl.” Clarke’s chirpy attitude didn’t do anything to cheer me up.