Addicted to Mr Parks (The Parks Series #2)(81)

“I’ll see you at home.”

The doors closed, leaving me alone and my temper flaring.





Chapter

Twenty-Six





I’d paced the living room floor a countless number of times. There was nothing left of my fingernails, five hours had passed on the clock, and my smartphone had remained silent.

What was taking him so long?

A sex-ex of his committing suicide? So how the hell did I happen to be in receipt of those photographs? Maybe he had crazy exes. That would explain my paranoia. I knew someone had been following me, staying close to my heels. Threatening. But why? Why would anyone want to do that to me? At first I thought it was Gabe, but deeply, I knew that wasn’t his style.

Another half hour went by, and I suddenly heard the stairs being climbed. Parks rounded the top and stopped when he saw the worry, confusion, and anger I was draped in.

“Tell me what’s going on,” I barked. “Was it an ex?” I continued, hating his silence.

Parks made his way towards me, slipped his arms around my waist, and pulled me into him. He held me like his life depended on it. He looked quite the opposite of a man who was full of relentless energy.

“No.” He sighed raggedly, making me feel all the tension and angst running through his veins.

“Then who?” I spoke against his chest.

“It doesn’t matter who. What matters to me is you. Evelyn, look at me.” I pushed from his chest and gazed up into his swollen eyes. “How long have you felt like you’ve been followed?”

I quickly racked my brain. “Um. Since meeting you. I think.”

His eyes shifted slightly. It was the answer he was afraid of hearing.

“Is it someone I should be afraid of?”

He wrapped his fingers into my hair and pulled me closely to his chest. “No. Someone is hurting you to hurt me, but I swear to God nothing will ever happen to you. Understand?”

I nodded. “So you got crazy exes?”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what?” I yelled, pushing from his chest. Yelled because his barricade was killing me. He always kept me in the dark. Always pushed me away from any close and personal side to him.

“Evelyn, when I tell you that you’re better off not knowing my shit, then you’ll do well to listen.”

I shoved his chest in anger, raging as I spoke. “Why do you do this? Why can’t I get inside what you’re hiding? Who you really are?”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he decided to walk away from my temper. “Evelyn, you know me better than anyone.”

“I know your surface,” I called to his back. “I don’t know your depth.”

“You don’t need to.” His tone was warning me not to push him, but of course, I pushed.

Almost jogging to get in front of him, I then stopped his walk by pressing my palm to his chest. “Then why do you need to know mine?”

His green eyes got lost in mine for a moment, and he wrapped his fingers around my hand that was splayed across his chest. “Because you’re the one who needs to be taken care of. You’re the one who takes priority in this relationship.” As he turned away from me for the second time, I watched the muscles in his back twisting under his shirt as he walked. Proving he was riddled with tension.

“You don’t have to be the strong one all the time,” I screamed as he walked away.

“Yes, I f*cking do,” he yelled, spinning around to face me. His voice echoed around the room, roughly bouncing off the walls and hitting me slap-bang in the face.

I stared at him, hurt, confused. Feeling wounded for the man that was bound so tight with a hidden demon that it felt near impossible to break down.

My hands flopped to my sides, and my gaze fell onto the cream rug I was standing on. I was in two minds: to go soothe a man who was constantly comforting me, a man who made his purpose in life all about helping me, or walk away and admit I wasn’t strong enough to cope with a relationship that was, some days, floating through heaven and other days riding roughly through hell.

My feet began to move. To the left was the stairs that would take me away from him; to the right was my reason for existing in this world.

Right was the direction I took.

Reaching him, I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulled him into me, and held him tight.

“Evelyn.” The sigh on which he said my name was breathless. Tender. Possessive. And that’s what I loved. My full name belonged to him. He was the only person who ever called me Evelyn, and because of that, he owned the right.

“You once said I was a woman with a broken smile.” I stroked his jaw gently. “My smile is almost fixed because that’s what you do for me. Let me try fix the broken smile of yours.”

“You do,” he whispered, nuzzling the side of my hair. “Just by being here, you fix me completely. Don’t ever go away.”


“I’m here for as long as you want me.”

He cupped my face, brushing my cheeks with his thumbs. “Princess, I want you forever.”

“Then I’m here until you get sick of me.”

“Never happening.” He smiled against my lips before pressing a heavenly kiss against them. Picking me up, he then made his way towards his bedroom. “I am never going to be able to get enough of you. My life has become all about you, and I don’t know what I’d do if that were to ever change.” He climbed onto his bed with me in his arms and laid us down so we were face-to-face. I kissed his neck, then pulled back to gaze into the depth of his greens.