Frozen

by L. A. Casey

  I was about to turn and exit the shop to get away from the black hole of despair that was Darcy Hart, when I noticed the male worker from before walking towards Darcy with a box in his hand and a smile on his face. It got my undivided attention. Darcy’s frame straightened up as he extended his arm towards the lad.

  I squinted to get a better look at the box, and when the blazing red hair of the doll I wanted came into focus, I broke into a sudden sprint. I pushed my legs to move as fast as they could, and like a machine I zoomed down the aisle. Seconds later I collided with Darcy’s back and took him to the ground just before he could take the box from the worker’s hand.

  That was my goddamn doll, and I was not letting Darcy Hart take it away from me.

  CHAPTER THREE

  For the love of God!” Darcy’s roar was all that sounded when we fell . . . Well, that and the loud thud of his body smacking against the tiled floor.

  He sounded like he was in pain, but I was perfectly fine, which was all that mattered, because his hard, chiselled body broke my fall.

  Wait.

  Chiselled?

  Darcy was chiselled?

  Bleh.

  I pushed myself upright, ignoring the tempting muscles of Darcy’s back under my palms, then jumped to my feet and hopped into the empty spot in front of the now terrified-looking young male worker.

  “Thanks.” I beamed at the lad.

  He swallowed. “It’s the last one in stock. I’m sorry.”

  I paused to read his name tag. “Mark. No worries; this is exactly the doll I was look—”

  “Oh, no, you don’t.”

  I yelped as I was suddenly lifted up from behind and swung around to face the empty doll aisle where I’d stood alone a few minutes ago. Darcy set me down on the floor and I stumbled forward, off balance.

  “Thanks . . . Mark, was it?” Darcy asked as he took the doll box into his hands. “Nice one, man.”

  Death.

  That was what he just asked for.

  “Drop. The. Doll,” I demanded.

  Darcy turned to face me. “Ne—”

  I shot forward and snatched the container from his large hands.

  My victory was short-lived, though, because Darcy quickly gripped onto my arm as I ran by him. He spun me around as if we were ballroom dancing, and the sudden movement caused the box to fall from my hands.

  Darcy let go of me, and I quickly regained my footing and scooped up the doll box, turned, and sprinted up the aisle away from a wide-eyed Mark – who was on his phone, undoubtedly to security – and a fast recovering and fuming mad Darcy.

  “Neala!” he shouted.

  I did a stupid thing: I looked over my shoulder to see how far away Darcy was from me, and when I saw he was hot on my heels I panicked. I tripped over my feet and screamed as I fell to the floor.

  Pain.

  That was all I felt radiate throughout my body. Hot burning pain. My knees were on fire, my shoulder hurt, and my cheek stung slightly. I was hurting, but apart from my sudden scream I didn’t whimper or make any sound of pain; Darcy would have enjoyed that too much.

  I heard him sigh as he stood over me. “Are you okay, clumsy arse?”

  No.

  “I’m grand,” I rasped.

  Painfully, I pushed myself up. I was a little wobbly on my feet, but I was standing, and that was the main thing.

  “Give me the doll, Neala.”

  I held the now slightly damaged box to my chest. “No way. This is Charli’s doll.”

  Darcy glared at me. “No, it’s Dustin’s. Now give it here.”

  Dustin was Darcy’s six-year-old nephew. He was a sweet kid, but right now he was my enemy too.

  “Dustin?” I questioned. “Dustin is a boy, Darcy.”

  “Thank you for pointing that out, sweetheart. We would have never known otherwise.”

  Eejit.

  “Cut the smartarse replies, Darcy,” I growled.

  He grinned. “I can’t seem to help it around you. You bring it out in me.”

  Fantastic.

  “Whatever. This doll is going to Charli. Go get an action figure or something for Dustin.”

  I took a few steps away from Darcy, but he quickly closed the space by advancing.

  “No. Dustin specifically asked for the Fire Princess doll, so that is exactly what I’m getting him.”

  I furrowed my brows. “Your nephew wants a princess doll . . . really?”

  Darcy glared at me. “He’s a kid, Neala – it’s princess toys this week and next week it could be man-eating dinosaurs. I don’t expect judgmental people like you to understand that children like to play with all kinds of toys.”

  The nerve of him.

  “I’m not judgmental! I just don’t think Dustin would really have any fun with this doll, or any doll for that matter. I mean, the kid cut the head off all of Charli’s Barbies last week for his own sick and twisted amusement. He is a serial doll killer, Darcy.”

  He guffawed. “Charli threw all of his dinosaurs in the bin earlier that day; it was payback. Besides, they spent the evening getting the dinosaurs back out of the bin and using the doll heads to play a new game. They’re always messing with one another; you know that. It’s how they’ve been since they could walk and talk.”

  I folded my arms across my chest and stared at him when I couldn’t think of a snippy reply. Darcy looked at me with both pain and amusement.

  “If I didn’t know each member of your family like they were me own, I would think you were reared by a bunch of crazies.”

  He wouldn’t be lying if he did say my family was crazy, because they were.

  “I don’t appreciate you insinuating that I’m—”

  “I’m not insinuating anything; I’m flat-out saying you’re a nut job.”

  I felt my eye twitch in annoyance. “I can’t stand you.”

  Darcy smiled wide, revealing his perfectly white straight teeth. “I know.”

  Why did he seem so pleased by that?

  “Don’t you have somewhere else you’d rather be?” I asked, feigning boredom. “Like mattress dancing with some poor unfortunate soul?”

  Darcy smirked. “Last night’s adventures will keep me sedated for a while . . . trust me.”

  Ew.

  I curled my lip up in disdain. “You’re disgusting.”

  I tried to turn and walk away, but Darcy reached for the box in my arms. With lioness-like reflexes I sprang back away from him. I gasped as, once again, I lost my footing and fell back into what felt like a mountain of pillows. Okay, so maybe I was a clumsy lioness, but I was still a lioness, and it meant I was dangerous.

  Very dangerous, so Darcy should never underestimate me.

  My embarrassment, as Darcy’s laughter rang in my ears, quickly turned to seething anger when I opened my eyes and found I was buried under a bunch of smiling snowmen instead of plain old pillows.

  “You know, you could give Charli one of these snowmen for Christmas instead. She might be just as happy.”

  “Shut up,” I growled.

  Darcy continued to laugh as he dug me out of the snowman mountain. I tensed as he took my hand in his and carefully helped me to my feet. I was very aware of how close he was standing to me. I could smell his aftershave, and the scent was so good it caused me to lean into him for just a moment. I licked my lips.

  I looked up at him and found he was staring down at me, his expression thoughtful. I pulled my hand from his when his thumb rubbed over my fingers, the callused tip causing goosebumps to break out over my skin.

  I made a show of brushing myself off with both of my hands when I was free of him, then glanced down and gasped.

  Where the hell was the doll?

  I spun around in a complete circle searching for it.

  “Looking for this, Neala Girl?”

  I growled and turned to face him.

  It was a nickname he’d called me fifteen years ago, back when we were still friends. I had loved it when I was little, but
now I couldn’t stand the name. It hurt my chest.

  “Don’t call me Neala Girl.”

  Darcy raised an eyebrow. “That’s your name.”

  No, it isn’t.

  “Give me the doll. Now!”

  Darcy had the doll box against his chest with both hands on it. His fingers tapped against the sides. He glanced at the snowmen gathered around my feet and teased, “You’ve got to watch your step, sweetheart.”

  I blew out a frustrated breath. “I swear, if you don’t give me that bloody doll I’ll—”

  “You’ll what?” Darcy cut me off, his smug look in place on his handsome face.

  Damn him.

  “I’ll shove me foot so far up your arse you’ll need a surgeon to remove it.”

  Darcy’s eyebrows rose. “You’re a foot shorter than me and at least fifty pounds lighter. You’re an itty bitty thing, Neala Girl. I’m not scared of you. You can’t hurt me.”

  Wrong.

  He was so wrong.

  “I can hurt you, and I will unless you give me the doll.”

  Darcy thought on it for a moment and said, “How about . . . no.”

  Bastard!

  I curled my lip into a sadistic grin. “Okay, you asked for it.”

  Darcy shook his head at me and moved forward so he could brush by me. “I don’t have time for – What the hell?”

  When he was close enough I manoeuvred my body behind his, hooked my arms around his chest and searched with my hands. When I found what I was looking for, I grabbed them between my index fingers and thumbs and pinched.

  “Me nipples! Let go of me nipples!” Darcy roared.

  I growled and tweaked a little harder. “Let go of the doll, and I’ll let go of your nipples.”

  There was a sentence I never thought I’d hear myself say.

  “Neala!” he yelped.

  I heard the doll box hit the floor, and as I was a woman of my word, I let go of Darcy’s nipples. I didn’t linger long enough for him to recover. Instead, I moved around his body, grabbed the doll box off the floor and took off running up the aisle like a bat out of Hell.

  “NEALA!”

  I squealed and continued to run until I was clear of the aisle. I turned left and almost tripped again but got my footing and stayed upright. I stopped running when I noticed every single person in the shop was staring at me.

  Mortification filled me.

  I lowered my head and briskly walked over to the nearest checkout till. The young girl at the till was wary of me as she took the doll box from me and scanned it through.

  “That’ll be forty-five Euros and ninety-nine cents when you’re ready, please.”

  For a stupid doll?

  “Bloody expensive,” I muttered as I pulled my debit card from my pocket.

  I placed my card in the girl’s hand at the same time that someone else did the same thing. I froze. Slowly, I glanced to my left, then looked up.

  Darcy’s furious face was glaring down at me, and I couldn’t help but smile merrily and say, “Too late, Darcy. I’m buying it.”

  I looked to the girl and took his debit card from her hand, then handed it back to Darcy, who continued to glare. I turned my head and nodded to the girl. She scanned my card, printed out a receipt, bagged the doll, and handed everything back to me.

  “Thanks.” I smiled to her and began walking toward the exit.

  I could feel him walking behind me, so I picked up my pace.

  “Leave me alone, Darcy!” I hissed when I made it out to the car park.

  “Not a chance, Satan,” he snarled, as he rubbed his recently abused nipples. “Give me the damn doll.”

  Oh, that was rich; this eejit was calling me the Devil.

  “This doll is my property. I paid for it, so feck off.”

  Darcy huffed with frustration. “If you think you’re leaving here with that doll—”

  “Oi, you two.”

  Darcy and I halted and turned our heads to the right. I was momentarily confused when I spotted two male Garda walking toward us, and neither of them looked happy.

  “Are you talking to us?” Darcy asked the officers.

  “Do you see anyone else out here?” one of the men replied snarkily.

  I glanced around the car-filled and frost-covered car park and shivered. We apparently were the only eejits stupid enough to come outside and argue when it was below zero.

  “No,” Darcy replied, and hung his head.

  “We got a call that a female and male fitting your descriptions were causing trouble inside the toy shop.”

  I widened my eyes and glanced back to the shop.

  They called the guards on us?

  I looked back to them and swallowed. “We had a disagreement, but I don’t think we did anything wrong . . . not really.”

  Darcy scratched his neck and remained quiet.

  Smart lad.

  “Look, it’s coming up to Christmas, and I don’t want to arrest a couple for arguing in a shop, so in the future keep it private. Got it?”

  I knew we were being let off the hook for our behaviour in the shop, but all I could focus on was that this man thought Darcy and I were a couple. I felt disgusted with his observation. Disgust, and a bit of irritation – I didn’t have room for anything else when it came to him.

  “Yes, sir,” I replied in unison with Darcy.

  The guards nodded to us, then went on their way back to their car. I didn’t move a muscle, and neither did Darcy, until they drove out of the car park and out of sight. As soon as they were gone I took off running toward the bus stop.

  “Neala!” Darcy hollered. “Damn it, woman!”

  I didn’t stop or look over my shoulder. I unleashed my inner lioness and ran. I kept my eyes on the ground so I could watch out for any black ice that would mess me up if I slipped. I heard Darcy let out a loud yelp, then a grunt of pain followed by a spew of foul curse words, and I smiled.

  He’d fallen over.

  I was breathless when I reached the roadside a few moments later. I was searching for a bus, but a blue taxi caught my eye instead. I instantly lifted my arm in the air and waved the car down. I prayed the driver saw me, and when I spotted his indicator flashing I squealed with delight. The driver was pulling over for me.

  I ran up to the taxi, jumped into the back, and slammed the door shut. I rattled off my address and asked him to pull off right away. The man did as asked and I relaxed back into my seat before I turned my head and looked out the window.

  I swallowed nervously when I spotted Darcy.

  He was still standing in the car park with his hands folded across his chest in annoyance, staring after me and shaking his head. He was already ticked off, and since I had to have the last word and wanted to annoy him further, I stuck my middle finger up at him as the taxi pulled away. I turned my head forward when I lost sight of him, and I giggled to myself.

  Neala: 1. Darcy: 0.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  I loathed Neala Clarke.

  I growled in anger at just the thought of the thieving wench.

  She had messed everything up for me. Finding that godforsaken doll for my nephew Dustin in Smyths was my last option; everywhere else was sold out of the stupid thing.

  Any sites I found online that sold it wouldn’t deliver until the New Year, which was no good because I needed it for Christmas Day. I had had the damn thing in my hands, twice, and she’d still managed to pull one over on me and take it away.

  Any sane person would simply curse Neala and get over the toy store spat by finding an even cooler present for their nephew, but I couldn’t do that.

  It wasn’t in me to let her away with pulling a fast one on me. She’d played that game back when we were kids: one second she was the centre of my world, and then the next she was a stranger.

  She’d pulled a complete three-sixty on me and cut me out of her life without even giving me a damn explanation.

  “Bloody woman,” I snarled as I stared at the blank screen o
f the fifty-inch plasma-screen TV on the wall in front of me.

  There hadn’t been a single encounter with Neala Clarke over the past fifteen years that ended well. She just couldn’t be civil with me – she had to be rude and physical, and had to one-up me on everything.

  If I brought a girlfriend to a family party, she brought a new boyfriend who was always bigger than me and could probably kick my arse with ease. I was an easy-going man – I was more of a lover than a fighter – but if someone ever came at me with the intent to harm me I wouldn’t back down. I would try to talk it out first, but wouldn’t back out of a fistfight if it were for a good reason. I was a nice person who sometimes could be stubborn, but only when she was around.

  I downed the last of my Coke and squeezed the can until it crumpled within my fist. I momentarily imagined it was Neala’s head.

  “Why are you grinning like that?” Sean, my best friend, asked me.

  I was in his apartment. I had a key for emergencies, but I used it for random drop-ins, and as usual Sean was cool with it.

  “No reason.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Well, stop it. You’re creeping me out.”

  I snorted and tossed the can onto the coffee table. “Sorry, man.”

  Sean fell onto his spot on the couch next to me and kicked his feet up. That was how I knew Jess, his fiancée, hadn’t come home with him. He would never put his feet up on the coffee table if she were here.

  “So, did you get Dustin’s present?” Sean asked.

  Here we go.

  I grunted. “Almost.”

  “Almost?” Sean questioned.

  I blew out a frustrated breath. “Yeah, almost. I had the fecking thing in me hands, then she appeared and took it away.”

  Sean turned his head so he could look at me as he asked, “She?”

  “She,” I growled.

  Sean laughed. “Who is she?”

  The Devil.

  I looked to him and spat, “Your little sister.”

  Sean Clarke was my friend, but he was also the older brother of the bane of my existence.

  Sean smirked and shook his head as he said, “Neala. I should have known.”

  He really should have.

  “Exactly. Who else pisses me off like her?”

  Sean considered this, and then said, “No one.”