Addicted to Mr. Parks (The Park #2) (20 page)

“I like it,” I told him, straightening out the long sleeves just for something to keep my eyes from looking into his and giving myself away.

“Let me drive you to Steph’s.” He pushed off his chair, but I held my palm up to stop him.

“I’ve called a taxi.”

The top of his cheeks rose a touch as he narrowed his eyes. My heart was racing as I wondered if he could see right through me. I wanted to prove to myself that I could go out like normal people. But I knew the way Parks would see it. He thought I wasn’t ready. I saw it as
“better now than later.” Why should I stall my recovery process? Nia told me to walk through a problem and not hide from it. So if a place where alcohol was served was the problem, then why shouldn’t I face it head-on?

“A taxi will cost you. Here, take my card.” He turned and reached into his suit jacket that was thrown over the back of the chair, then walked towards me. He was about to give me his bank card. It was gold with
‘
Wade Parks’
in fancy writing splashed across the top. “You and Steph have whatever you like.”

My hands automatically pushed up like I was surrendering. “Thank you for the offer, but I can I pay my own way.”

He groaned, pulled at my shoulder handbag, and shoved in his card. “You will offend me if you don’t accept.”

“Then I’ll have to offend you.”

He grabbed hold of my shoulders, pulled me into him, and forcefully pressed his lips into mine, his tongue delving deep and sweeping through my mouth. “Don’t start,” he warned, leaving me breathless and a little dizzy.

“Fine,” I barked after getting over the kiss attack. Letting him think I was going to use it was fine by me, but like hell was I going to.

“What restaurant are you going to?” he quickly asked when I turned my back on him to leave. Halting in my heels, I did a quick rack of my brains.

“Nando’s.” What the fuck? I instantly winced at my own stupidly.

“Nando’s?” His voice was perplexed, and I knew he was frowning, more curious and getting suspicious.

“Not Nando’s.” I shook my head, trying to act like my mind wasn’t with it. “Nobu. See you later.”

“What time shall I expect you home?”

“I don’t know, me and Steph can talk forever,” I called over my shoulder and almost legged it to the lift.

I hated that I was lying, but this experiment was for me, not him.

Chapter Nineteen

Arriving outside Tabby’s was a shock to my system. She lived in a worse-off estate than the one I’d grown up in. Her attitude, her clothes, and everything else about her screamed that she was a wealthy, model-type woman. Maybe everything was not as it seemed. I was living proof of that, and judging a book by its cover was not what I did.

Her flat was on the ground floor, and I had to walk through an eerie-looking alleyway to get to her door. The flats were dreary and the walls covered in endless graffiti. It was dark, it smelt, and I really didn’t feel comfortable. My heels took me anyway, and I passed a vicious-looking dog on a lead with his young, hooded owner while his friend bobbed his head to the music they were listening to.

“Oi, sweet cheeks,” one of the lads called as I passed. I rolled my eyes and carried on walking. “You want some of this?”

I turned my head and saw that the guy was grabbing at his dick. I scoffed. “I like my men to be well hung. Sorry.” I turned, leaving his friend laughing hysterically. Seriously, I needed my head tested. Even in a dangerous situation, my mouth still wouldn’t obey my mind.

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 fuck?” 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.”

“Then don’t tell him. He’s not your minder.” Her nonchalant shrug rubbed off on me, making me feel like the suggestion of telling Parks my real plans was ludicrous.

Of course he wasn’t my minder. I knew that. And she was right. I didn’t have to tell him, and I wish I could say “sod him” and leave it at that. However, thinking about lying to Parks was making my palms sweat, my heart race, and my anxiety levels smash through the roof. The only reason I didn’t want to tell him where I was going was because I didn’t want him to come and rain on my parade. I wasn’t only going out to accompany Tabby, it was to test myself. I knew damn well I could go to a nightclub and refuse a drink. I knew it.

The taxi arrived outside Project, and I got a text from Parks asking me if I was having a nice night and saying that he missed me. My heart sank like the Titanic. I wished I was home with him, or better still, actually with Steph like I said I was. Or at Nando’s.

“Wade?” Tabby rightly guessed.

“Yeah. I’m just gonna text him back.”

“Give me that,” she protested, swiping my phone out of my hand and throwing it into her bag.

“What are you doing?”

“No texts. You’re out to have a good time. Yes?”

My body sagged after I glared at her handbag, having the urge to rip it off her shoulder. “Agreed.”

We stepped out of the taxi and made our way to the club. Tabby had a quick word with the bouncer, and he led us straight through the double glass doors. Seemed the nightclub was only for elite members and those who had money. It did make me wonder how on earth Tabby had a membership there. She hardly had any money to live on, but she could afford a club membership? Maybe she was sleeping with the bouncer. I’d done it before, so I couldn’t judge.

Project was stylish and oozed decadence and sophistication. The music that night was house and techno and so loud I couldn’t hear myself think. Because I wasn’t getting drunk, it was bound to give me a headache. With that in mind, I was determined to have a good night. Alcohol could not rule my life.

“Let’s get to the bar,” Tabby shouted, pulling on my arm. I groaned but followed.

When we got there, I rested my arms on the bar and placed my bag beside them. At the worst possible moment, my bladder suddenly decided it needed emptying. “I need the loo. Just get me a water,” I yelled into Tabby’s ear. She held up her thumb, then pointed in the direction of the toilet. I was halfway through the crowd when I remembered I left my bag on the bar. As I switched direction, my focus came straight onto Tabby, who was already holding it in her hands, telling me she got it. Thank God. Nodding in relief, I pivoted on my heel and made for the toilets.

After emptying my bladder, I quickly made my way back into the club and spotted Tabby sitting at a nearby table. As I danced my way over, a smile crept up on my face. I was actually having a good time. No alcohol was needed. That was until I’d got to the table and saw Tabby had three bottles of Dom Pérignon around her.

“Tabby!” My eyes were wide as I stared at the expensive champagne. “I thought you were skint?” I didn’t want to reprimand her for drinking around me, because I could handle it. What I did want to scold her on was the fact she was living in a shithole and ordering two hundred and fifty pound bottles of champagne.

“I am.” She grinned, then fished something out of my bag. “But he’s not.” As she waved around the gold card Parks had given me, my heart rate plummeted.

“You used this?” I snatched the card from her hands.

“He said we could, didn’t he?”

My open mouth was speechless. “Are you fucking crazy? He told me to use it because he thought I was going to a restaurant. Tabby, what the fuck am I going to say when he sees this on his card?” I reached down and grabbed the bottles. “I’m taking them back. They need to take it off the card.”

Tabby quickly pushed to her heels and took the champagne out of my hands on a pout. “It’s done now. Relax.”

My body slumped down onto the chair. A million excuses were going around in my head, but not one seemed fit enough to tell him. Should I cut his card up and tell him I got mugged? That seemed the best scenario.

“Lighten up.” Tabby laughed, pouring herself the champagne and then downing it. Then I noticed a glass on the table that looked like water.

“Is this mine?”

“Oh yeah.” Tabby handed it to me. I took the glass with shaking hands as she eyed me up a little sheepishly. Right then I could have done with a stiff drink to calm my nerves and chase away the images of Parks and his awaiting Hulkness.

I took the glass to my lips, sipped at the liquid, and felt an instant burn, making me spit it out all over the table. “What the fuck?” It was vodka.

She looked genuinely mortified. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry. They must have got the order mixed up.” Oh great. The night was going perfect.
Not
. “Let me get you another.” Tabby was quick to rush to the bar. I didn’t follow her. My knees were knocking restlessly as I waited. And waited.

“You’ve been ages,” I told her when she finally arrived back at the table.

Handing me the drink, she nodded to it. “Water.”

“Thanks.” I placed the glass back down onto the table and caught Tabby frowning.

“You’re not going to drink it?”

“I don’t want it just yet.” It was only bloody water.

“Oh.” Tabby looked a little disappointed. Every time I moved, she also looked as though she hoped I was going to pick the glass up. It was strange. Either that or my paranoia was suddenly let loose. “If you drink that, it might take the taste of the vodka away,” she persisted.

I think Tabby latched on that I was starting to get agitated with her as I ran my hands down my face, so she tried to pull me up to dance. I really wasn’t in the mood, so I declined but told her to go dance alone. I watched her as she danced, looking carefree until a man came dancing behind her. I looked on at first, seeing whether she was okay with him or not. When she looked at him uneasily, I intervened.

“Hey, hairy guy, I think she’s telling you
no
.”

His creepy smirk grew as he tightened his hairy arm around Tabby. “Then she can tell me herself.”

Tabby seemed too nice to even tell him no, so I did it for her. “Fuck off, in other words,” I yelled in his face, making him back away.

Tabby seemed shaken up, so I steered her back to our table. “You okay?”

She looked peaky and a little uncomfortable, so I picked up my glass of water and handed it to her. “Here.”

She shook her head and stood up hastily. “I just need some air. I’ll be right back.” She gently pushed me back down onto the chair. “Stay here, mind our table.”