by L. A. Casey
“What the hell? But it’s not true. I don’t like her!” I stated.
Sean raised an eyebrow at me and grinned. “You’re possessive of her. You never let anyone pick on her growing up. You—”
I cut Sean off. “Because she was mine to torture.”
“You wouldn’t go to any parties unless she was in attendance. You—”
I jumped in and cut Sean off again. “Because they weren’t any fun unless she was there so I could wind her up!”
Sean lightly chortled. “You punched Kenny and Luke Spencer in the face because they said she was hot at her sixteenth birthday party. You—”
“Because I didn’t want to deal with a boyfriend when I was torturing her . . . How can you not see any of this?”
Sean shook his head, still not convinced.
“You admitted that seeing her makes your day.”
“Because I know I drive her mad every time I see her, and that makes me happy.”
Sean pinched the bridge of his nose. “You never shag brunettes, even though you told me they are your preference – you only get into blondes, redheads, or black-haired girls.”
“Because the only attractive girls in this bloody village happen to have blond, red, or black hair!”
Sean burst out laughing, “You’re so deep in denial you can’t see past it.”
I badly wanted to punch Sean in the face in that moment, but it wasn’t worth the wrath of my mother, or Sean’s, if I made him bruise at his engagement party, so I settled for punching him in the arm instead.
“You’re being a real bastard, you know that?”
Sean rubbed his arm. “I’m aware of it, yes.”
Arsehole.
I lifted my hands to my face and scrubbed. When I lowered them I looked around the pub again and grunted.
“Where is she? I know she’s biding her time to get back at me, and not being able to keep me eye on her is scaring me.”
Sean laughed. “You’re scared of Neala?”
I growled. “You’ll be scared too when it’s her turn to strike you. She thinks you aided me by getting me into her apartment; I’m sure of it.”
Sean opened his mouth to speak, but quickly closed it and nodded in agreement. “What are you going to do? Stand here all night and search for her?”
I sighed and shrugged.
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
Sean was about to say something when my mother appeared with two glasses filled with what looked to be an alcoholic liquid.
“These were meant to be vodkas and Coke, but the barman gave us whiskey instead. Do you both want them?” my mother asked.
Sean shook his head, but I took both drinks.
“Thanks, Ma,” I said, and downed them both.
I scrunched my face up as the liquid burned a pathway down my throat and to my chest. I hadn’t planned on drinking tonight. I needed to be on Neala Alert, but it was essential that I be relaxed for that, and that was exactly what the whiskey did.
“Why don’t you both go and see your fathers?”
I raised my eyebrows. “Why?”
My mother huffed, “I don’t really care where you go, Darcy; just stop standing here and glaring at our friends. You look . . . odd.”
Sean laughed. “He’s on Neala Alert.”
My mother smirked, and it caused me to roll my eyes.
“Don’t start, Ma.”
With that said I brushed by my mother and went in search of my father. Sitting with him was probably the safest thing for me to do right now. Neala loved my father and wouldn’t try to hurt me when I was in close proximity to him . . . I hoped not, anyway.
“Darcy, where are you going?” my father called out to me thirty minutes later.
“Bathroom,” I rasped.
I thought I heard laughter coming from my father, but I couldn’t be sure. I didn’t really care, though, because I needed to get to a bathroom as soon as possible. My stomach was absolutely killing me, and I felt like my insides were about to spill out from my arsehole.
If it sounds disgusting, you can only imagine how I felt.
“What the hell did I eat?” I groaned in pain as I stumbled down the small hallway of the pub.
I tried to think of anything I had eaten earlier in the day that could make me feel so ill, but the only thing out of the norm was the buffet of pub food that Sean and Jess had made for their party. I’m not fond of spices, and that was all the buffet consisted of. Spices and herbs.
Never, ever would I touch either one again; my stomach churned just at the thought.
I reached the men’s toilet and sighed out loud as I pushed the door open, only to stumble into the wall when I saw all three stalls had pieces of paper with ‘OUT OF ORDER’ on the door.
“This can’t be bleeding happening to me!”
I made a decision in a split second to use the ladies’ room. I would apologise to every woman who came in and heard or smelt me, but I couldn’t not go to the bathroom. I quickly moved to the right to go into the ladies’, but like the men’s room, the door wouldn’t open. I looked up and punched the door when I spotted the same ‘out of order’ sign hanging on the door.
“None of the toilets work?” I shouted.
Bollocks.
I had to leave.
I had to go home where I could go to the toilet, and die in peace.
I would never usually leave a party, especially a family one, but I had to, and I couldn’t stop to say goodbye to anyone. I ignored everyone around me and made a beeline for the pub exit.
Of course I wasn’t blessed with making a quick escape; the hand that clamped down on my shoulder made sure of that.
“Where the hell are you waddling off to?”
I turned to face Sean. “I need to go.”
“Go where? And seriously, you’re walking like a penguin. What’s up with that?”
I ignored his laughter and said, “I need to leave.”
“What do you mean, you have to leave?” Sean asked me.
I understood his annoyance. I was part of his wedding party, and here I was bailing on the long-awaited engagement celebration. Not only that, I was also his friend. But I couldn’t help it; I had to leave.
My arsehole demanded it.
“I have to, man,” I said, then hunched over as another horrible cramp somersaulted in my stomach.
I felt a hand on my back. “Darcy, are you okay?”
I really wasn’t.
“No,” I hissed in pain. “I think the food isn’t sitting well with me. Me stomach is killing me.”
Sean helped straighten me up and smiled and nodded at the punters of the pub, who gazed at me a little too long.
“You don’t think the food is bad, do you?” Sean asked, his tone worried.
I shook my head.
“No, no, it tasted delicious. I think the spices are just affecting me the wrong way tonight.”
Sean winced as he caught my meaning.
“Go on home, man. Make friends with your toilet. I’ll tell everyone your arse is on fire and you had to leave. They’ll all understand, trust me.”
“If I wasn’t hurting so bad, I’d knock you out.”
Sean laughed and patted me on the back, hard. “Lucky me then.”
“Aye,” I grumbled as he wished me well and trotted over to his beautiful soon-to-be bride. “Lucky you.”
I turned and waded through the group of familiar faces. I grew up in Tallaght Village, so there wasn’t a face I didn’t know, or a name I didn’t recognise. Right now I hated it more than anything, because multiple people tried to stop me for a quick chat or a picture along my way out of the pub, but I had to turn them all down.
I heard a familiar laugh from somewhere to my left, and when my eyes caught hers I narrowed them. Neala was perched upon a stool at the bar. For a moment I found myself staring at her legs, but I shook myself out of it and growled in her direction. She was looking right at me and she was smirking.
She had done
this to me.
I didn’t know how I knew she was responsible for my sudden pain and desperate need for a toilet, but I just knew it was all because of her.
I froze like a statue and widened my eyes in horror as she got up from the stool, turned away, and got lost in the crowd. I swallowed down the bile that rose in my throat, and forced myself to push on through my friends and my family’s friends until I was outside in the freezing cold.
Did she know I took the doll or was this just her getting me back for the antics in Smyths the other day?
I didn’t know, and it freaked me out.
I forced all thoughts of Neala aside as I slipped and slid down the pathway on my way to the car park. The crippling pain in my stomach was so bad that at one point I considered crawling along the path.
What the hell was happening to me?
I was breathless and sweating like a pig by the time I got to the car park and found my Jeep. I fumbled with my car keys as I pulled them from my pocket, but I managed to open my car door and climb inside.
“Home,” I whimpered. “I need to get home.”
Be a man.
I sucked in a huge amount of oxygen, then forced my eyes to stay open as I drove along the slippery back roads that led up to my cherished house. I loved nature, which is exactly why I had my house in the middle of it. I loved the calm that came with nature and the space surrounding it, but right now I didn’t care for any of it.
Holy Mary, mother of God.
I had never felt a pain like the one that had taken up residence in my stomach. It was so bad I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. That’s right – I wouldn’t even wish this upon Neala, and she was malicious.
“Please, God, help me!” I whimpered as another cramp crippled my abdomen.
This wasn’t happening to me.
I pressed down on the accelerator and prayed to God above that I wouldn’t crash, get stuck, or slide dangerously along the road. I prayed for my safety, and for a toilet.
God, I needed a toilet badly.
The journey was ten minutes too long, and it was dangerous. A few times I lost control of my car on the slippery road, but I managed to make it up to my house in one piece. When I was in my driveway, I shut off my Jeep and opened the door. I fell out and dragged myself through the snow and over to my porch.
I growled deep in my throat as stabbing pains attacked my rear.
“No! Christ, no!”
I fumbled with the keys in my hands and I opened my front door.
“It’s coming! It’s coming!” I yelped, and shouldered my door open when the key finally turned in the lock.
I stumbled down my hallway in the dark and opened the bathroom door just as it happened. I let out a whimper when the realisation – and smell – hit me.
I’d shit myself.
I’d literally shit myself.
I was going to bloody kill Neala Clarke when I got my hands on her.
CHAPTER TEN
I couldn’t believe what I had resorted to in order to get to Darcy’s house. All to get the doll back on what had to be the coldest day in the entire history of Ireland.
Freezing my arse off on my mission wasn’t enough, though. To make matters worse, I’d had to pay some bratty kid fifty Euros to ‘take a lend’ of his mountain bike! The little shite had made sure to let me know his mother knew my mother, and would tell her I’d hit him and stolen his bike unless I got it back to him in the condition he gave it to me in. The stupid bike wasn’t even worth fifty Euros; he’d practically hustled me.
“Bloody kid!” I growled as I pedalled uphill as hard and fast as I could.
No matter how hard or fast I pedalled, though, the wheels of the bike just spun in the slushy snow. I wanted to scream and cry. My legs were on fire, my lungs were seconds away from collapsing, and I couldn’t feel my body. No really, I couldn’t feel it. I was numb all over. The below-freezing temperature and stupid snow made sure of that. I’d thought about nothing else but this plan over and over since I’d found out about the engagement party two days ago. I’d plotted everything out . . . except my stupid attire!
I was in a blue dress, black blazer, and black heels.
That was it.
There was a picture of my face next to the definition of stupid on the Internet, I was sure of it.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid!” I screamed in anguish.
I was tired and cold, and just wanted to get the doll back from Darcy, but I was still several hundred metres away from his house. As I neared it, I looked up and noticed it was still in darkness, but his garden and some of the surrounding area was well lit.
Darcy had surprisingly great street lighting for being up in the mountains, where the back roads were usually dark and dangerous. The road up on this side of the mountain was still dangerous, but not dark, which was probably the only stroke of luck I’d had all evening.
Well, the second stroke, if I’m being honest. The first stroke of luck by far had been when Darcy had drunk both the whiskeys I’d spiked with the laxative. That had gone off without a hitch. It really was a thing of beauty watching him accept the tainted drinks from his mother, then swallow the very thing that would make him lose the doll to me.
The thought that I would soon have the doll comforted me somewhat. It did nothing for my freezing body and tired limbs, but it helped put my mind at ease, at least.
I tried once more to pedal the stupid bike, but when the wheels spun endlessly in the snow I gave up. I put my foot down and lifted my other leg over the bike, but I lost my balance and fell backwards. I screamed, then groaned in pain when my arse hit the hard, cold ground under the blanket of snow. The pain from the impact sent shockwaves up and down my body, and because I was ice cold it hurt that much more.
I fought back tears as I struggled to my feet. I wanted to give up, but I could do nothing except stick to my plan and walk in the direction of Darcy’s house. I couldn’t turn away now. I still didn’t have the doll, and that was my reason for being here.
I abandoned the kid’s bike, and decided I’d deal with that headache at a later time.
Ten minutes of careful, slow-paced walking later, I reached Darcy’s front garden. I noticed Darcy’s car in the driveway, but dismissed the vehicle when I guessed that he walked down to the pub, or got a lift there.
I silently thanked God I’d made it, because just as I stepped foot into the garden, it started to snow again.
“Stupid bleeding weather!” I snapped, then flung my hands over my mouth.
Shite.
I had to keep quiet.
Darcy might not be home, but I didn’t want to draw attention to myself.
I carefully walked over to Darcy’s porch and tiptoed up onto the decking. I gently tested the front door handle and found it to be locked. My heart sank a little, but I didn’t let it completely dishearten me. I knew the chances of my having to literally break into his house were high, but I had been kind of hoping a door would be unlocked.
I shook away the disappointment, walked down from the porch, and made my way around to the side of the house. I tested the first window I came up against and found it to be locked tight.
Crap.
I pressed on through the snow, and found myself gasping for breath as it became increasingly difficult to walk through. I was so cold that I couldn’t feel anything, so for a moment I thought maybe walking through the snow was hard because my legs were starting to give out. But I quickly realised why walking was suddenly harder: it was snowing even more heavily. Each flake was large and thick and made my task even more energy consuming.
“G-give m-me a b-break!” I said to Mother Nature, in the vain hope that she was listening.
A large gust of wind hit me seconds later, and I took it as her telling me to feck off.
What a bitch.
I hiked through the snow in my five-inch heels, and just when I was at the back of Darcy’s house and almost safe on his back decking, I tripped and fell. I think I screamed,
but I wasn’t sure. I had to quickly use my hands to push my body up so I could lift my head out of the snow, because I couldn’t breathe.
“Th-this w-was a b-bad b-bloody id-dea,” I said to myself as my body began to shake violently.
I stomped my way out of the snow and across the deck, and then walked as carefully as I could to his back door. I closed my eyes and prayed to God that the door would be unlocked. I opened my eyes and lifted my hand to the door handle and slowly pulled it down.
Click.
“Oh, m-m-my G-god,” I whispered through chattering teeth when the lock clicked and the door opened.
I was in. I had made it successfully into Darcy’s house all on my own.
Yes!
I tried to control my breathing, because it had sped up dramatically in the last twenty seconds. I was scared, and now that I was inside I had to find the doll and not get caught. It was mission impossible in my current state. I was shaking from the cold weather, and I couldn’t feel my body.
I gently closed the kitchen door, then reached down and pried my high heels off and left them by the back door. Darcy’s kitchen wasn’t dark, but it wasn’t bright either. The light on the fan above his stove was switched on, so it meant the room was somewhat lit. I looked around the kitchen and nodded in approval. A high-gloss cream kitchen with black granite countertops.
Nice choice, Darcy.
Co-owning Clarke & Hart Construction had clearly paid off for him.
I didn’t know why, but I searched the entire kitchen for the doll. I had to check everywhere just in case Darcy had put it somewhere that most people wouldn’t think to look. I wouldn’t leave his house without the bloody doll, so I’d make sure to check every cupboard, drawer, and wardrobe. Luckily, all the movement I was doing caused my shaking to ease, and it even gave me some feeling back in my body. Thank God.
I glanced to the door at the end of Darcy’s kitchen; it wasn’t a nice door that had glass in the frame like the other door in the room, so I guessed it had to be some sort of storage room. I tiptoed towards it, but a hiss from my right halted my steps.
What the heck was that?
The area of the kitchen where I was looking was darker than the rest of the room, so naturally I stepped forward to see what the hissing was. I squinted my eyes at a dark blanket that was thrown over some sort of box that sat on a stand high up in the air. Everything in me told me not to pull on the cover to see what was under it, so I turned and walked to the wooden door and opened it.
