Frozen
Page 5
Neala huffed and folded her arms across her ample chest.
“We aren’t two countries at war, Darcy.”
“No,” Sean cut in, “but you are two people at war, and to be honest, when you both get together it’s the equivalent of two countries fighting. Two highly weaponised and equipped countries.”
I swallowed.
Were we really that bad?
Shite.
I knew we acted somewhat – okay, a lot – immature with our feud, but damn, Sean’s words made me feel like crap. And the chances were good that when I took the doll back from Neala, and she realised I had it, it would spark a war like no one had ever seen before.
Why was I so excited about that?
I was sick in the head, that’s why.
“What are you smiling at?” Neala’s voice snapped.
I flicked my eyes to her and shrugged. “Just thought of something funny.”
Well, funny in a twisted and demented kind of way.
Neala obviously didn’t believe me: I could tell by the look on her face. But I didn’t give her the reaction she wanted because I didn’t want to fuel her suspicions of me; I wanted her to be at ease. Or as much at ease as she could be with me in her home.
“So . . . how are we supposed to do this?” she asked. “We hate each other, Darcy.”
I stared at her for a long moment, unblinking.
She was actually considering mending things between us?
I wasn’t expecting that.
“Um . . . I’m not sure,” I said, then swallowed. “I know how we feel about one another, but I guess we could start by not attacking one another or cursing when the other person’s name is mentioned . . . That could be a start to . . . tolerance?”
Neala was silent as she mulled things over in her constantly on-the-go mind. I knew her like the back of my hand, so I knew she would overthink this until she made up some story that I was out to get her. I wasn’t giving her the chance to do that.
“Stop thinking that I’m playing you,” I said.
I winced inwardly as I said that. I was playing her – not about the mending of our ‘relationship,’ because that would actually be kind of cool, but about playing the peace card, which was of course a trick that would help me get the doll back from her.
Damn, she was really going to hate me more than ever when she eventually found out what I was doing to her, but I had to focus on my reason for being so sneaky.
Dustin.
“I don’t trust you, Darcy.”
A wise decision.
“But I trust me brother, and me family, and if they think we can get to a point where we can tolerate one another then okay – I’ll give it a shot. But know I’m doing this for our families, not for us.”
Seemed fair.
“Noted.” I nodded.
Neala nodded her head back to me then cleared her throat as she stood up.
“Can I get you both anything?”
I looked to her brother and waited to see what he would ask for, because if I asked for anything, even though she offered, she would probably bite a chunk out of my face. I could feel the anger radiating from her hot – pun intended – little body. She was open to the idea of us getting along, but she wasn’t happy about it.
Sean shook his head, though, so I smiled and said, “A water, please.”
After a curt nod she went into the kitchen, and Sean nudged me with his elbow.
“If you take that doll, she is going to kill you when she finds out that—”
“I know.”
“And me for bringing you here—”
“I know.”
Sean sighed and muttered, “It’s gonna kill me ma.”
While I waited for my water, I forgot about Sean and Neala and looked around the room. If she had the doll in her bedroom I was fucked, because there was no way I could come up with a viable excuse that would result in my having to go there. I looked around the sitting room, and my eyes locked on to the well-decorated Christmas tree next to me. I looked down and spotted wrapped presents. I glanced up to the kitchen door, and when I was sure Neala wasn’t coming into the room I dropped to my knees and picked up each present.
None of the gifts had name tags on them, so I went for the ones that were a similar size to the box I’d held earlier in the day. I dismissed the first two I held because they were heavier than the box I was looking for. I reached for a pink box I spotted behind the other presents. I held the box in my hand, and I instantly knew it was the doll without even unwrapping it. It was the right weight, and as I ran my fingers over the wrapping paper I could feel the dents in the box that were caused by my and Neala’s tug of war for it at the store.
“This is it,” I whispered to Sean.
“So hide it,” he hissed.
I spun around in a circle and realised I couldn’t hide it without Neala seeing it, so in desperation I tiptoed quickly to the door and quietly opened it. I placed the box next to the doorframe outside and very carefully closed the door again. I quickly retook my seat next to a bemused Sean and tried to calm down.
“Why did you put it out there?” he mumbled.
So she wouldn’t beat me to death with it after she got it back.
I swallowed. “So she wouldn’t see it. I’ll pick it up on the way out.”
Sean raised his eyebrows. “But what if someone outside takes it?”
I froze.
I hadn’t considered that.
“Then I’ll hunt them down and kill them; then I’ll take the doll back.” My lip twitched as I spoke.
Sean snickered. “Okay, Rambo.”
I chuckled and mentally thanked him for easing the tension that was building up again in the room.
I licked my lips. “Do you think she will notice it’s gone?”
“No. Or at least not right away,” Sean replied.
We’d have to leave soon, though, just in case she did notice it was missing. I’d die in this apartment if that happened.
“What the hell is she doing in there?” I muttered.
Sean snorted. “Probably talking herself out of killing you, and me for bringing you here.”
That sounded like Neala.
I smirked. “I think you might be right.”
We sat in silence for a minute or two, then sat up straight when Neala entered the room with a single glass of water in her trembling hands.
“I put ice in it,” she mumbled, and looked down as she handed the glass to me.
I blinked.
Did she remember I only drink ice water, or was it a coincidence?
“Thank you,” I said, and took the glass from her.
She nodded, moved across the room, and sat back down on the lounge chair. I didn’t mean to do it, but I ran my eyes over the glass of water, inspecting it for any signs of foul play. It was Neala we were talking about, after all; she could easily have poisoned it for all I knew. I wasn’t taking any chances.
When I was sure, or as sure as I could be, I took a sip of the water and swallowed. I sighed as the ice-cold liquid slid down my throat and quenched my sudden thirst. I took a large gulp, followed by another, and another, until the glass was drained of water and left with only ice cubes gathered at the bottom.
“Thirsty?” Sean asked from my side. His voice was teasing.
“Not anymore,” I said, smiling.
I looked away from Sean and to Neala, who was watching me with interest.
“Is this where we set up a play date?” she asked sarcastically.
Sean laughed and stood up. “That doesn’t sound like a bad idea, because we have to get going. I have to get Charli from her last day of school before the holiday break and this fella is giving me a lift, since Jess took the truck to work with her today.”
Neala shot upright. “Okay, that’s fine. Thanks for stopping by.”
I smirked.
She couldn’t wait to be rid of us, mainly me.
“It was nice . . . talking to you, Neala,” I li
ed.
It wasn’t nice; it was both torture and amusing as hell.
Neala swallowed. “And you, Darcy.”
Bullshit.
She was physically sick just saying that.
I stood up, turned and walked to the door, opened it, and stepped outside. I quickly scooped up the pink-wrapped box and held it in front of me as I walked down the hallway, not waiting for Sean, who was still back in Neala’s apartment, probably getting his arse chewed out for bringing me by.
I didn’t care, though, because I’d pulled one over on Neala for a change.
I’d got the doll, and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.
CHAPTER SIX
I stared at my hall door and wondered what the hell had just happened.
Sean was always weird and came over to my apartment at random times, but Darcy, that eejit, had never stepped foot in my place, for good reason . . . until today.
Why?
He had even been . . . nice to me.
He’d smiled at me a few times, too.
Not a grin or a smirk – an actual smile.
“I don’t get it,” I muttered as I locked my front door and backed away from it, as though Darcy might burst back through it at any moment.
Why was he here?
I knew it wasn’t so we could ‘start getting along with one another,’ like he claimed. Even Sean, who was all for us getting along, had given Darcy a funny look when he said that. It was like he knew just as well as I did that what Darcy was saying wasn’t remotely true.
I could see right through Darcy’s bullshit, but I didn’t understand why he’d said the nonsense he did. I didn’t even understand why he had come to my apartment in the first place. Everyone, apart from Darcy, was sick of our feud. I was sick in the sense that I enjoyed it; it gave me something to do. I knew he definitely liked it too; he looked forward to seeing me just so he could piss me off. He was demented, just like me.
“Something’s not right,” I said aloud, and began to look around my apartment.
I had no idea what I was looking for, but I searched anyway.
I spent most of the evening looking for something, and after finding nothing, I gave up. I got a glass of water and drank it as I leaned against my kitchen counter.
Maybe Darcy did just want to try to smooth things over and I was just being paranoid.
I shook the silly thought away. There was no way in hell Darcy Hart would willingly want to befriend me. But I knew he had done something; I felt it in my bones.
The doll.
I blinked and felt tremendously stupid for not realising it sooner. It was too much of a coincidence for Darcy to show up wanting to make friends when I knew he wanted the doll. We had had it out in a toy shop over it, for goodness’ sake.
I walked over to my Christmas tree and glanced down to the presents I’d wrapped earlier that day. I tilted my head and stared at them. The colours weren’t right; I had three blue presents, one red, one yellow, and one pink. I pulled the presents out from under my tree in search of the pink-wrapped box.
Where the fuck was Charli’s Blaze doll?
He wouldn’t.
Wouldn’t he? my mind taunted.
“Darcy!” I snarled, and pushed myself to my feet.
I spun around and placed my hands on top of my head and screamed.
He’d robbed me! The callous bastard had come into my home and robbed me blind . . . and I was pretty sure my bloody brother had helped him.
Neala: 1. Darcy: 1.
“Dead. They’re both so fucking dead!” I growled in anger.
I was going to get that bloody doll back and destroy Darcy in the process. There wasn’t a place on Earth he could hide from me. If he wanted a war, I’d bloody well give him one.
Let the games begin.
CHAPTER SEVEN
What do you mean, Darcy stole from you and Sean helped?”
I rolled my eyes at Justin Hart, Darcy’s older brother, even though he couldn’t see me.
Justin was my brother’s best friend, and pretty much my adoptive big brother. I liked to call him ‘Wise One’ because he was only seven years older than me and yet had the mind of a pensioner. I didn’t mean he was forgetful; he was just a very smart man and knew stuff normal people in their thirties probably wouldn’t.
“I mean exactly that, Justin. Yesterday while I was at home minding me own business, your bastard of a brother came into me apartment with my bastard of a brother, and stole me Christmas present for Charli!”
Justin sighed into his phone as he accepted what I said as truth. This sort of thing wasn’t a far-fetched idea when Darcy and I were involved. In fact, things like this happened so often they were probably tiresome for everyone else to hear.
Scratch that – I knew for a fact they were tiresome for everyone to hear. Everyone who knew us was more than likely fed up with our feud.
“Is it possible that he is just messing with you?” Justin probed. “It is Darcy, after all.”
I scoffed. “No, we’ve been fighting over this present since yesterday—”
“What?” Justin cut me off. “Since yesterday? What do you mean?”
I groaned. “It’s a long story.”
Justin made his trademark God-save-me-from-Neala-and-Darcy sigh. “When you and Darcy are involved in something together, it usually is. Come over to me house and tell me about it – I’m chilling with Dustin until his ma is home from work.”
I had nowhere better to go, so I shrugged my shoulders and said, “Okay, I’ll be over in ten.”
Justin lived only a few minutes down the road from my apartment complex in a small housing estate just outside the village. I visited often because I was out of work for the moment, so it meant I had nothing else to do. I wasn’t a deadbeat; I had a job – a job I loved at the Holiday Inn as a receptionist – but the hotel was currently under construction. A year ago the owners had decided to rip the old hotel down and rebuild a brand-new bigger hotel in its place.
I’d get my old job back in the New Year once the hotel reopened on January 3rd, it was guaranteed, but until then I was seeking unemployment payment from welfare just to help me get by. It was shite money, but at least it was something.
I hated being on welfare, but after months of searching for just about any job close to home and finding nothing, I had no other choice. I was counting down the days until I could get back to work and earn my money instead of just having it handed to me.
I put on my coat, wellie boots, scarf, woolly hat, and gloves. It wasn’t just the ice outside that I had to worry about anymore. Since I’d got home from Smyths yesterday it had started to snow enough to stick to the ground and cause problems. There were already a few inches on the ground. It was unheard-of weather for Dublin – it only snowed once every five or six years – but the pending winter snowfall was forecast to be our worst in history. I hadn’t paid much attention to the warnings, though; half the time the weather channel got it wrong anyway, so I never took what they said as fact.
I locked up my apartment, then headed out of the complex and onto the street. It took a little longer than usual to walk to Justin’s house. The snow was so thick that I had to watch my step, because I wasn’t sure whether there was ice under the layers of snow. It was better to be safe than sorry.
By the time I arrived on Fairview Road, where Justin and his family resided, it had begun to snow again, and it did nothing for my heated temper or my ice-cold limbs.
“You look frozen,” Justin’s laughing voice called out as I hiked my way up his driveway.
I grunted. “If I wasn’t so stiff and cold, I’d stick me finger up at you.”
Justin smirked as I neared him. “The death glare you’re currently giving me is a grand replacement.”
I couldn’t help it; I smiled, or at least I tried to – I was so damn numb I couldn’t tell whether my lips moved or not.
“You look like you’re constipated,” Justin mused as I stepped into his
hallway.
I groaned as Justin closed his front door and the heat of his house surrounded me.
“Me face is frozen, you dick!” I said through my chattering teeth.
Justin laughed as he ushered me into his living room, where it was even warmer. I scurried over to the radiator under the window and pressed my arse and thighs against it. I sighed in delight and stayed put as the heat caused tingles to spread across my thawing skin.
“You sound like you’re in a porno.”
I kept my eyes closed. “Only you would think that, pervert.”
I heard a giggle.
“What’s a porno?” a small voice asked.
I opened my eyes and widened them to the point of pain. Dustin, Justin’s son, was leaning against the doorframe of the living room with his arms crossed over his chest and a quizzical look on his face.
Justin was looking at Dustin with worried eyes, and after a few moments of silence he said, “Never mind . . . Don’t repeat it to your mother, though.”
Dustin smirked. “Is it something bad?”
Uh-oh. The kid had a blackmail look about him.
Justin awkwardly scratched his neck. “No . . . not necessarily. Look little man, just don’t tell your ma I said that word, okay?”
Dustin tilted his head to the side as he thought about it, and I smiled. He was the double of Justin with his blond hair and big eyes, but looked like his uncle when he was thinking.
I shook away a sudden unwelcome stream of pleasant thoughts about Darcy, and focused on the cutie before me.
“What’s in it for me?” Dustin asked his father.
I laughed. “He’s your kid; there’s no doubting that.”
Justin grunted at me without looking away from his son. “I’ll let you out of helping me wash the dishes for a whole week; how does that sound?”
Dustin considered it for a moment, then suggested, “A week without washing the dishes and a week of late-night snacks?”
Justin balked. “You’re killing me, kid; your ma will have me arse if she knows you’ve had sugary snacks past bedtime.”
Dustin stood up straight, a sign to me that he wasn’t about to back down.