Page 28 of Protected

“Even before my mother was killed, I hated Wolf. I hated everything about him and the Kingz. I vowed then that I would one day destroy him and the organization.”

“Dear God,” Chelsey said, looking at him with horror in her eyes. “You were a child. How could he treat you so…so…”

“Like I was a worthless piece of shit?” Parker said, knowing that wasn’t what she was trying to say, but that was how Parker felt at the time. There was never any love between him and his father, and there never would be.

“I had no idea,” she said quietly as if talking to herself. “I can’t believe your father is the leader of an organized crime syndicate. And his name is Wolf?”

Parker knew this was only the beginning of her questions; questions he really didn’t want to answer.

“That’s his street name,” he said. “Chelsey, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to know his real name. Baby, you can’t discuss him with anyone. You can’t Google him. You need to act as if you’ve never heard of him. If you start poking around—”

“I won’t, and I won’t say anything about him to anyone. Tell me. What’s his name?”

After a long hesitation, Parker conceded. “His name is Maverick Farron, Sr., and he’s an evil, self-serving, narcissistic, SOB. I hope you never meet him.”

“Senior?” she said with her perfectly arched eyebrows scrunched together. “Does that mean you’re a—”

“Iwasa junior before I changed my name.”

“Maverick,” she said, as if testing out the name.

“Don’t even think about calling me that,” Parker said, his tone hard. “I’llneveranswer to it.”

“Okay, I won’t, but what was your street name?”

Again, he hesitated. Why’d she want to know? That was part of his past life. A life he had completely removed himself from, and it was painful and unnerving to think about any of it.

But when Chelsey continued watching him, patiently waiting, Parker said, “My street name was Knuckles.”

“Knuckles?”

“Yeah,” Parker shrugged. “I fought a lot.”

Which was putting it mildly. After his mother’s death, he acted out and fighting was his therapy. How many times had his principal threatened to kick him out of school?

And on the streets? Everyone knew not to fuck with him. He’d been out of control and hadn’t settled down until he got to high school. He couldn’t afford to get expelled from school. Otherwise, it would’ve messed up his future plans of getting away from California and making something of himself.

As if knowing he didn’t want to discuss name changes, his street name, or even fighting, Chelsey didn’t ask him anything else about that subject.

Instead, she asked, “What does any of this have to do with you breaking up with me? I don’t understand.”

Parker released an unsteady breath. Now came the tough part of the conversation.

“When I was seventeen, almost eighteen, my father tried to kill me, and he thinks he succeeded. He thinks I’m dead.”

Chapter Twelve

Chelsey could only stare at him.

How the hell had they dated for months, and she did not know any of this?

Her mind was spinning with so many questions, she didn’t know what to ask first. All this time, she thought he had grown up in Chicago. All she’d known about his parents was that his mother had died when he was younger, and he was raised by his father who he no longer had a relationship with.

Butthis? He’d been brought up in an organized crime family…which was insane. A drug dealer by the age of eight, he was involved in stuff that could’ve gotten him thrown in jail for the rest of his life. Or worse, could’ve gotten him killed.

Parker leaned forward as he ran his hands up and down the thighs of his jeans. Normally, he was calm and laidback, but in the last few minutes, his anxiousness was palpable.

He thinks I’m dead.

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