Lost In Mr. Parks (Park #3) Page 5

  I slammed my hand into the arm of the chair. “You and your damn control. It’s okay if you lose it now and again! For fuck’s sake.”

  He glared at me. “So it’s okay to fuck when my mother is in the next room?”

  I sagged my shoulders in defeat. Of course it wasn’t okay. And I knew I was never going to live it down.

  “I’ll go talk to her. You go.” Parks moved towards me and pulled me from the chair until I was chest-to-chest with him. “Cleaver’s outside. He’ll take you home.”

  “Home?” I scoffed, shoving him away. “Define ‘home,’ Wade, because I’m not home unless you’re there with me.”

  His big hands came down onto my shoulders as he pressed a tender, lingering kiss to my forehead. “I will be home soon.”

  “When you say, you mean?” He was unbelievable. I grabbed my bag on my way past, but he took hold of my arm, stopping me.

  “This is why I need to think when you’re not around, because when you are, I can’t think straight. What just happened proves it.”

  I pulled my arm from his fingers. “What the hell is it that you want, Wade?”

  “You.” He sighed. “I’ve only ever wanted you.”

  “Then have me.” I gazed up through my eyelashes into the pain-stricken, green eyes of a deeply broken man. “Take me,” I whispered raggedly. “I need you, Wade. I need you like my heart needs to beat.”

  “Words.” He brushed his thumb over my swollen lips. “You want them, I’ll give them to you. Just give me time.”

  I swiped his hand away. “Time is running out, Parks.”

  “Evelyn, call me Parks again and I will spank you until your ass is red and raw.”

  “Fuck you,” I spat, walking away from him.

  “I’d rather you fucked me,” he called, causing me to stop dead. That was what he used to say to me when we first met.

  I closed my eyes and bowed my head. Why did he think it was acceptable to stay away from me, yet continue with the sexual banter we normally shared so freely? It wasn’t acceptable, and I wasn’t going to stand for it.

  “Don’t,” I warned, then made my way out of the building.

  Chapter Four

  My phone started ringing as I exited the hotel, and I wasn’t surprised to see it was Tabby. She’d tried endlessly to get us to hang out, and I suppose I couldn’t avoid her forever.

  “Hey,” I answered, holding my finger up to Cleaver to tell him to give me a moment.

  “Hey, Evey, do you have plans tomorrow? I was thinking we could catch up, go sightseeing?”

  “Sightseeing?” I laughed. “Tabby, we live in London. Why would you want to see more of it?”

  She paused, then laughed along. “Believe it or not, I haven’t actually seen all the tourist sights. Please,” she whined, drawing out the last syllable. “It’ll be fun.”

  I glanced over to Cleaver again, then tuned back into the phone call. “Sure,” I relented. “Although if I see one of Parks’s henchmen, I won’t be responsible for my actions.”

  Tabby chuckled, sounding a little unsure. “Henchmen?”

  “Yep, he has men following me to make sure I’m okay after I told him I felt like I was being stalked.”

  “Oh.” She paused again, but her oh sounded oddly confused. “I guess he wants to keep you safe, huh? But why is he keeping you safe when you’re not together anymore?”

  Tabby knew myself and Parks were on a break. “We’re back together.” It wasn’t entirely true, but it felt good to say.

  “Great news!” She beamed. “So I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  “Sure.” I hung up quickly and made my way over to Cleaver’s Jaguar, but before I could greet him my phone rang again. “Sorry,” I mouthed to him, but he smiled and opened the door for me to climb in.

  “Evey, are you busy?” It was Steph.

  “Not really, what’s wrong?”

  “I was meant to meet my mother for coffee and baby clothes shopping, but she’s stood me up. I mean, who gets stood up by their mother?”

  “You.” I laughed. Cora had a better social life than most teenagers.

  “So,” she drawled out sheepishly, and I knew what was about to happen.

  “Yes.” I rolled my eyes. “I’ll meet you. I could do with taking my mind off things.”

  “What’s he done now?”

  I glanced to the front to see if Cleaver was listening, but he was too busy whistling to Beethoven.

  “Just tell me where to meet you.” I could have done with a drink, but no, I would have to put up with a huge intake of caffeine instead. Honestly, though, I would rather have lunch by myself, sitting by the window in a deli watching the world go by.

  I asked Cleaver to take me to Steph’s favourite deli, located in Oxford Street, where she’d planned to meet her mother. It was as packed and as boisterous as it usually was on a Saturday, and I heard James Bay’s “Let It Go” playing in the background. I loved that the deli was in an old warehouse. They’d converted it beautifully.

  Steph was already waiting for me at the dark wood table, so I pushed my way through the line of people and got seated.

  “God, it’s a fight to get in here,” I huffed, shoving my bag under the table.

  “I know, but the food is to die for. I ordered you a chicken mayo baguette.” She pointed to the plate right in front of me.

  “Thank you.” I dived for my coffee first, took three big gulps, and then got started on my baguette.

  “So what’s he done? You looked pissed off,” Steph began, wiping crumbs from her lips with the back of her hand.

  I raised my eyebrows. “That’s because I am. You know men are the most difficult gits to have ever evolved in this world? Why are they even here? To annoy us?”

  Steph swallowed down a bite of her sandwich and shrugged causally. “And to make us orgasm?”

  I tilted my head. “I can do that all by myself.”

  She laughed. “But I bet they’re not as intense as the way Wade makes you come. To be honest,” she spoke with a mouth full of bread, “he could make me come by just looking at me. He does make me a tiny bit damp.”

  I held my baguette in midair, her words stopping me from taking a bite. “Are you telling me that my boyfriend turns you on?”

  “Evey—” she stared at me impassively, “—anything with a pulse is turned on by Wade Parks. His voice is like a mature hot-fudge cake,” she said dreamily.

  I stared at my best friend as I lost her for a second. “A cake?”

  “You know.” She flipped her curly hair behind her shoulder. “The way it makes you feel. He’s like a young James Bond. Smooth and very sexy.”

  I arched my eyebrow, still not jumping on the funny train with Steph. “James Bond is British.”

  “Okay then, an American James Bond,” she offered. “I bet you love ripping him out of his suit at night. I know I would. Do you have a pic?”

  A laugh burst out of my mouth. “I thought you didn’t like him, and now you want to see a picture of his body?”

  She scoffed. “I meant his dick.”

  I shook my head. She was unbelievable. “I don’t need a picture when I have a vivid image of the real thing in my mind. Anyway—” I threw a piece of my bread at her, “—stop talking about Parks like you want to fuck him. Because right now I could kill him.”

  She picked up her cappuccino and took a gulp. “So you have seen him today?”

  I left my baguette on the plate and took my coffee cup, staring into the dark liquid. “Yeah. His mother caught us fucking.”

  Steph sputtered and banged her chest as her cappuccino went down the wrong way. “What? When? How?”

  I rubbed at my forehead, still feeling humiliated. “Don’t ask.”

  “I already have.” Steph glanced over my shoulder, and I turned to see she was checking out a hot guy in the line behind us, who actually winked at her. Bloody winked!

  “Ooh, cheeky,” Steph teased.

  Rolling my eyes, I turne
d back to her and clicked my fingers in her face. “Hello, you are pregnant. And with Mathew. We don’t want another Julian situation on our hands.”

  She ducked her head with attitude. “Can’t I look?”

  “Hmm.” I hid my disapproval with another swig of my coffee. “Where is the creep, anyway?”

  “He’s seeing someone, apparently. A guy this time.”

  “Good luck to them.” I tried to hold in a burp that was brewing in my throat, but it came out loudly anyway.

  “Grim, Evey,” Steph deadpanned.

  “Sorry,” I said, holding a fist to my mouth because the sick feeling had started to become tenser.

  “You okay?” Steph faffed.

  “Fine.” I moved my hand to my stomach to rub at the ache there.

  “Anyway, spill the beans, Banks. How did the mother-in-law catch you fucking her son?” The groan that fell from my lips told Steph how ashamed I still was. “And you’re embarrassed?” She was shocked because I was hardly ever embarrassed.

  “Yes, I’m embarrassed,” I hissed, leaning forwards. “His mother is a damn retired brain surgeon, belongs to one of the most pretentious families in America, and she walks into the room to find her son fucking me hard against the wall whilst I’m pulling at his hair.” Steph’s mouth dropped open, and I ignored the sight of ham and crushed-up bread inside it. “And that’s not all. Whilst she’s staring at us in horror, Wade not only comes, but makes it blatantly obviously by groaning into my neck while his mother runs off mortified.”

  Steph gulped down her sandwich, then tilted her head back and laughed so hard, tears ran down her face.

  “It’s not funny,” I hissed. “Stop it.” I moved across the table to swat her arm for being so childish, but that didn’t deter her. So I waited, flaring my nostrils aggressively until she stopped laughing.

  “I’m sorry.” She wiped at the tears in her eyes, holding her stomach with her other hand. “You couldn’t even make that shit up.”

  “I wish it was made up!” As Steph calmed down, I had to admit the situation brought a small smirk to my lips. Maybe it was a bit funny, but not at the damn time. “Can we talk about something else?”

  She thankfully obliged, and we chatted about her pregnancy, Mathew, and new Ann Summers toys for another hour, but then my smartphone started to ring. I dived into my bag and answered quickly before it went to voice mail.

  “Hi, Evelyn.” It was Harriet. My cheeks burned immediately.

  “Oh, hi.” I cleared my throat and hated myself for feeling embarrassed again.

  “Who is it?” Steph mouthed.

  “Harriet,” I mouthed back.

  “Yikes,” Steph whispered.

  “I’m sorry our chat didn’t go as planned.” So she wasn’t going to address what she saw? Thank the Lord for that. She was most definitely as horrified as I was.

  “That’s okay. Maybe we could meet up another time?”

  “Oh, I hope so. I was thinking maybe tonight?” There was a pause, so I questioned it.

  “Everything all right?” Wholeheartedly, I knew the Parks family life wasn’t as rosy and glamourous as they made it out to be. Even I got sucked into their fake personas, but I also knew their family had been torn apart because of one man’s actions, just like my selfish mother had torn apart mine.

  “You know it has to be, Evelyn.”

  I put my finger in my ear to try and drown out the background noise of the deli. I hated that I was having a deep conversation with Harriet in the wrong place and at the wrong time.

  “It doesn’t have to be, Harriett. You can leave him. Make a life for yourself.”

  “It isn’t as easy as that. But that doesn’t matter. All I wanted to ask of you was that you have patience with my son. He has such a good heart.”

  “Patience?” I was about to scoff, but that was rude, so I reined it in and glanced to Steph, who was watching me like a shite-hawk. Truth was, I had very little patience to begin with, and my patience with Parks was wearing dangerously thin.

  “Okay, Harriet. When do you want to meet?”

  “An hour? Back at the hotel?”

  “Uh, of course. I’ll come by in an hour.”

  “Thank you. Bye, Evelyn.”

  I hung up, and there was another chime telling me I had a text. I quickly read the message from Tabby asking me to go on a tour of London with her that evening. The sun was out in all its glory, and she wanted to make the most of it. I honestly couldn’t be arsed, but I agreed nevertheless. Maybe the fresh air would do me good.

  “What was that about?” Steph quickly interjected. “Did she shout at you for fucking her son?”

  “Steph, she can’t shout at me. I’m not a child.”

  She sat back, laughing at the situation. I wish I could find it funny. “God, Mathew’s mum would have had a heart attack if she caught Mathew getting his end away.”

  “Getting his end away?” I burst into laughter. “Who says that?”

  “Shut up, it just came out.” She laughed, closing her eyes at her own silliness.

  “Talking of Mathew’s mum, how is the stuck-up cow?” Talking about me and Parks and what we got caught doing was not something I particularly wanted to do, so talking about Mathew’s mum was a good diversion. Steph could rant about her for days. I had an hour to kill before meeting Harriet, so she could rant away for all I cared.

  Chapter Five

  “Evey.” I allowed Harriet to hug me when I met her back at the hotel, because I didn’t know what else to do.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked.

  She took a step back from me and started fiddling with her hands. A nervous trait I’d observed her doing before. “I’m thinking about staying in London for a couple of months, you know, to let Clinton cool down. He likes to be left alone after he’s…” She glanced away and shrugged. “Well…you know.”

  “Left alone? He has the damn cheek to want to be left alone,” I scoffed, looking away from her. “I know what I’d do to him,” I murmured, but she didn’t seem to catch it.

  “I have to bring Abigail with me, of course. She wants to stay with Jasmine because of her school, but I’d like her with me.” Harriet was telling me all this information when I hadn’t a clue what I could do to be of service. I was the wrong person she was meant to be telling; however, I felt warmed that she felt she could talk to me and allowed me in to her personal life.

  “We’re going to stay here.” Harriet looked around the hotel suite. “I’m sure Abigail will like it. She can bring whatever she likes. I’ll have to get Carson to bring along her new puppy, though. She won’t go anywhere without him. Then there’s—”

  “Wait.” I held up my hand, stopping Harriet from rabbiting on like she was reading from a list in her head. “Why don’t you both go and stay in Kensington with Wade? There is enough room, and I’m sure you’d both feel more at home there.”

  Her eyes lit up a little, making her look happier than she had since the moment I met her. “Has Wade said we can stay?”

  Oh God, me and my big mouth. “I’m sure he’d rather you stay with him than stay in a hotel.”

  She turned sad eyes away from me, her smile fading. “He didn’t say that, did he? Wade likes to stay a fair distance away from me, Evey.”

  I hesitated to move towards her, but I told myself to stop being so cold. Sheepishly, I made my way to the sofa, sat down, and patted the seat next to me. “Harriet, what my father ‘didn’t do’ for me is the reason I find it hard to be around him. All those times he could have protected me from my mother fly around in my head, and the more I think about them, the more I question. Question why didn’t he protect me? Why didn’t he love me enough to take me away from the pain? But you know, I don’t hate him, and it’s hard for me to understand why. I know Wade loves you too.”

  “Oh, sweet girl.” Harriet’s hand went up to her mouth as she gasped. “Please, don’t tell me what I think you mean.”

  “Yep.” I nodded, inhaling quick
ly so tears would piss off back inside. “I was a child of addicts.”

  “Oh, Evey.” My name came out of her mouth shakily, her voice breaking and laced with the sound of agony. “Do you mind me asking…?” She tried to compose herself so she wouldn’t cry, and suddenly turned into a therapist. “Abuse? Neglect?”

  I looked into my lap. “All those things.” I lifted up my head after a deep sigh, and my eyes met hers, which were brewing with tears. “It was all my mother, though. My father just stood back and watched. Which is just as bad,” I added on an irritated scoff.

  “What must you think of me?” Harriet croaked as she stared at me, eyes filling up, her bottom lip almost wobbling. I could do nothing but look away, because what I thought of her was about to come out, and I couldn’t look at her while I delivered it. “Be honest,” she pushed, but Harriet didn’t realise how honest I could be.

  “I think you’re a coward.” Harriet didn’t respond, and when I eventually looked up from my lap, her eyes were closed. I watched tears slowly roll down her pink cheeks before I continued. “I don’t understand how someone could be scared to the point where they can’t protect their own children. So controlled by the other person that they fear they are stepping out of line by simply doing what’s right.”

  “You’re right,” Harriet cried. “I am a coward, but I’m stuck in a rut and I can never see a way out.”

  “Of course there’s a way out,” I pushed. “All you have to do is walk away.”

  Her earrings swayed as she shook her head hard. “And lose everything I’ve worked for?”

  “If you mean your charity, then don’t you think you’re doing wrong by being married to a man that is exactly what you’re trying to protect those children from?”

  Harriet sighed, a sound that was filled with regret and deep sadness. “It’s not as simple as that, Evey. He knows too much; he has too much control in every damn thing I do. I step out of line, I get slapped. I tell him I’m leaving, I get blackmail. There’s no way of escaping.” She rubbed her shoulders with her hands as if she was cold. “You know, he’s been told to stop drinking or he’ll suffer a heart attack, and every time I sit with him and watch him take another glass of Jack to his lips, God forgive me, I pray it will be the glass that finishes him off.”