by L. A. Casey
“You’re taking forever.”
I halted my digging.
“I don’t need your pressure right now, Neala.”
With that said I began working on the tunnel again, and Neala went back to being silent. After about an hour, she complained about feeling cold, so she went and got her blanket from the storage room and wrapped it around herself, then went into my living room and kept herself busy with something. I didn’t ask what she was up to or go and check on her because I was revelling in the silence. It didn’t last long, though; when she was bored she decided to come back out to the hall and open up her mouth again.
“It’s my turn. I’ve nothing to do, and making sure the candles don’t blow out is stupid.”
My God, woman!
I had a decent tunnel in the making and she still had to complain.
Ungrateful witch.
“Keeping the candles lit is an important job!” I turned my head so she could hear me.
She kicked my leg. “Then you bloody do it.”
I was fuming mad – so much for her never hitting me again. She couldn’t just let me finish the damn tunnel so we both could get out of here and away from one another.
“Fine!” I snapped, and began to wriggle my body to back my way out of the tunnel.
My shoulders hit off the sides with each inch I moved backward. I halted when a noise from above me sounded. Just as I turned my head to the side to look up and see what was happening, snow caved in around me.
The cold stabbed me like needles, but what was worse was that it weighed me down and pressed me to the floor of the tunnel. I tried to move, but I couldn’t. I tried to take deep breaths to calm myself down, but breathing became difficult with the snow surrounding me.
Fuck.
This wasn’t good.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
It all happened in slow motion.
Darcy was shouting at me from inside of the tunnel one minute, and the next his upper body disappeared as the roof of the snow tunnel literally collapsed on top of him, and now he wasn’t moving.
At all.
For at least twenty seconds I did nothing but stare at him; then my senses kicked into overdrive.
“Darcy!” I screamed, and threw my blanket off my body as I rushed over to him.
I stared down at his legs with wide eyes, my limbs shaking. My heart was slamming into my chest, and each pulse got louder and louder; my ears rang with the noise.
“Darcy!” I shouted, hoping he would make a noise from under the snow or at least move his legs.
Nothing.
Not a sound or kick from him.
I really started to worry then; the thought of him suffocating crossed my mind. I mean, snow was made of water so while it looked fluffy and beautiful, in reality it was very dense and heavy. I didn’t have much time before Darcy smothered to death.
Fuck.
I had to save him.
I dropped my candle to the ground and ignored it as the glass bowl that encased it smashed, causing the flame to blow out.
It was darker now, but the rest of the candles along the hallway were still lit, so I could see pretty well.
“Darcy, don’t worry!” I shouted. “I’m gonna get you out of there!”
I dropped to my knees and began to scoop handfuls of snow off his body. I threw it off to my right onto the pile Darcy had created while digging the tunnel, but I had to stop, because my hands hurt with the cold. I instead moved to Darcy’s legs, gripped them, and pulled with all of my might. The idiot’s body moved only slightly.
“Move!” I shouted, and pulled at his legs again.
I held on to Darcy with every fibre of strength I had and pulled again, and by the grace of God, his body moved.
It actually moved.
I was strong!
“Yes!” I cheered.
I scrambled up to Darcy’s back when his shoulders became visible. I placed my hands on both of them and pulled as hard as physically possible; the wet floor under him made him slide, which made things so much easier for me and my arms.
“You’re out!” I cheered.
Darcy was gasping for air. I rolled him over so he could suck in as much as he needed. His eyes were closed, but his body was shaking. I instinctively placed my hands on his arms, directly on his biceps.
His firm biceps.
Stop it.
I began to rub up and down very fast, hoping to generate some heat for Darcy to ease his shivering. All the rubbing was pointless, though; unless I got him up off the cold wet floor he would just get sick.
“Darcy, stand up,” I said.
He didn’t move; nor did he reply to me.
That worried me.
I looked to Darcy’s face and found his eyes were still closed. I looked down to his chest and saw it was moving up and down, which relaxed me immensely.
“Darcy!” I said loudly, shaking him.
“Darcy!” Einstein called from the kitchen.
I screeched, “Shut up, Einstein!”
Stupid bloody bird.
I looked back down to Darcy when I thought I heard him chuckle, but I was mistaken, because he was motionless, with his eyes still closed. He was still breathing, but it wasn’t right that he was so motionless. This wouldn’t do; I had to wake him up because we’d be stuck in this house if he didn’t fix the tunnel and continue to dig so we could get out of here.
Was that selfish?
“Darcy!” I shouted, and shook him again, hard.
He groaned and it caused my pulse to spike.
“Neala?” he croaked.
He was alive!
“Yes, Darcy, it’s Neala. I’m here. It’s okay. I saved you.”
I was so proud of myself.
“Neala.” He gasped my name again, and this time it was followed by a cough.
I frowned down at him.
Why was he coughing?
“Are you okay?” I asked, genuinely concerned for his well-being.
Darcy coughed again. “I don’t think so . . . Everything is fading.”
Oh, my God.
Fading?
As in fading to black?
“Don’t you die and leave me here alone!” I snapped at him.
I may still have hated him close to ninety percent, but I didn’t want him to die . . . I also didn’t want to be left on my own with his corpse and just Einstein for company.
“I’m . . . I’m dying . . . Neala.”
Oh, no.
“You can’t be; you weren’t under the snow for that long – Darcy!” I screeched, and shook him when he started to go limp.
“Neala.” He gasped. “Come closer.”
I couldn’t believe what was happening.
This was not how things were supposed to end; we were supposed to get out of here . . . together.
“I’m here, Darcy,” I said, and swallowed back a sob that wanted to escape.
Darcy’s breathing slowed. “I can see the light,” he whispered.
Like the light of Heaven? Surely he was Hell-bound.
I shook my head clear and said, “Go to the light, Darcy.”
Darcy gasped for breath; then all of a sudden everything stopped.
His movement.
His breathing.
His everything.
Oh, no.
“Darcy?” I whispered.
Nothing.
Oh, my God.
“Please don’t be dead,” I said, then released the sob that was dying to be let out.
I stared down at Darcy’s face, and I couldn’t believe what had just happened.
He had died in my arms.
What was I going to do?
I’d never even told him I was sorry for giving him the runs, or for all the other times I was a bitch to him, and now I would never get the chance.
I felt like dirt.
I began to cry, but Darcy’s body suddenly twitched; then he inhaled sharply and loudly.
I blinked, then widened my eyes in
shock.
“Darcy?” I whispered.
Darcy blinked open his big brown eyes.
He was alive!
“Am I in Heaven?” he asked.
He thought he was dead!
Darcy blinked his eyes a couple of times; then he flicked them to mine and stared at me for a long moment before he sighed.
“Nope, not Heaven. This must be Hell if you’re here,” he said, his face as serious as if he’d just told me someone had had a heart attack.
I stared down at him, then narrowed my eyes.
Ex-fucking-cuse me?
“What?” I asked, completely confused.
Darcy looked at me, then burst out laughing.
Laughing!
I gasped and dropped him to the floor.
He grunted in pain, but continued to laugh.
That . . . that fucking bastard!
He’d played me.
“You joked about dying?” I screeched.
Who does that?
Darcy’s only response was another fit of laughter.
“You evil prick!” I hollered, and dove on him.
I grabbed handfuls of the snow from the pile to my right and tried to kill the bastard for real this time by pushing it into his mouth and nose. Darcy turned his head from left to right and grabbed at my hands to stop me.
He laughed the entire time.
I was so mad.
I pushed myself up off him.
“I knew you really cared about me!” Darcy shouted through his laughter, then mimicked my voice. “Darcy, Darcy! Please don’t be dead.”
“I hate you!” I screamed, then turned and stomped down the hallway.
I felt my eye twitch as I slammed Darcy’s living room door and separated myself from him, but it was no good; I could still hear the dickhead laughing. I stormed over to the couch and sat down. I folded my arms across my chest and glared at the living room door.
Who pretends to die?
That was not funny.
“Darcy! Go into the light, Darcy,” Darcy cried out in the hallway, then burst into laughter again.
I was going to kill him before we made it out of this house.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Nealaaaa?”
Fuck off.
“Come on, Neala.” Darcy chuckled. “You have to talk to me at some point.”
I bloody do not.
“Neala Girl,” Darcy sang, his voice merry. “Oh, you decorated the room.”
Yeah, I decorated the room.
While he had been making the tunnel this morning I’d opened the box of tree decorations and hung them on the branches, taking the bare look off the tree. When I was finished it looked nice.
I’d even placed the Christmas light-up characters around the room. The fecking things were battery operated, which meant when they were all turned on they completely lit up the space, and we had been using candles since yesterday. Darcy was an idiot for not thinking of them when the power went out.
I was pulled from my thoughts when Darcy called my name again. I growled and turned deeper into the couch, hugging myself with my arms to stop my body from shivering. My blanket was in the hallway still and it was wet from the snow that was thrown around when I tried to make Darcy eat it.
“Neala.” Darcy sighed long and deep. “You’re freezing – I can see you shaking. Will you just get up and come into my bedroom, where you will be warm and comfortable in me bed?”
Ha. Yeah, fecking right.
That was the same tune Darcy had sung over and over since he’d faked his own death this morning. I wasn’t having any of it. I would not speak to him or go into his bedroom no matter how dire things got for me. Darcy sighed from behind me, then chuckled to himself.
“I’ll bring Einstein in here unless you come into my room,” Darcy threatened.
He wouldn’t dare.
“I will bring her in here, Neala. Don’t doubt me.”
I widened my eyes.
Could he read my mind?
Fuck you, Darcy.
Silence.
Nah, he couldn’t read my mind; he’d just guessed what I was thinking.
“Come on, Neala. You’re going to get sick in here. The room is soaking.” Darcy’s tone had changed to one of annoyance.
I wasn’t falling for it.
The room was wet because of him; it was completely his fault.
After he’d faked his death and I’d closed myself off from him in the living room, the fucker had opened the door and thrown snowballs at me. Yes, snowballs. He was obviously never taught not to throw things inside the house, especially fucking snowballs. He’d completely soaked my dress and blazer and the furniture, because he had the worst aim in the history of mankind. The snowballs had melted, of course, and all but destroyed the furniture, what little furniture he had, when the wet soaked into them.
He was lucky he hadn’t messed up the tree; I would have kicked his arse if he had. The moron hadn’t even noticed I’d done up the room earlier when he attacked me, because I’d turned the light-up characters off to save the battery power, but now that they were lit he was noticing.
The bloody gobshite.
“Speak to me, Neala,” Darcy pleaded. “I’ll get upset if you don’t.”
I lifted my right hand in the air and stuck my middle finger up at him.
Darcy’s sudden wail frightened the shite out of me. I quickly turned to face him just as he dropped to his knees and dramatically began to crawl over to me.
“Shut up!” I shouted, covering my ears with my hands as I got up from the sofa. “You’re giving me a bleeding headache, you eejit.”
He wrapped his arms around my legs and wouldn’t let go.
“Stop it!”
Darcy ignored me, and Einstein started to freak out and wail too, and even though she was in the kitchen I could hear her as plain as day. She was even louder than fucking Darcy.
“You’re upsetting Einstein; stop it!” I snarled down at Darcy.
He blinked up at me.
“Darcy!” I shouted, and bent down and slapped at his arms.
He wouldn’t let go.
“For the love of God, will you let go of me and stop!” I snapped.
Darcy stopped his fake wailing and looked up at me. “Will you do as I ask?”
“No.” I hissed.
He opened his mouth and sang, “Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the wayyyyyy. Oh, what fun it is to ride in a one-horse opppeeeennnnnn—”
“Okay!” I screamed. “I’ll do as you ask!”
If he’d stop acting and singing stupid carols like a five-year-old I’d do just about anything.
Darcy smiled up at me, then let go of my legs and jumped to his feet.
“Excellent. Now follow me.”
I narrowed my eyes at his back as he turned and pranced out of the living room.
He was so bloody full of it.
I shook my head and reluctantly followed Darcy down the hallway and into his bedroom. I stood at his doorway, hesitating to go inside. Darcy looked over his shoulder at me and laughed, which made me want to smack him.
“I’m not going to jump you – I’m trying to help you.”
Ha. Yeah, right.
“Help me how?” I asked curiously.
Darcy turned and walked over to his wardrobe. Opening the door, he pulled out a few items of clothing. He walked over to his dresser and pulled out something else, then turned and dropped the items on his bed and gestured at them with his arms.
“Trousers, a t-shirt, boxers, and socks. Have at them.”
What?
“I don’t understand,” I said with furrowed eyebrows.
Darcy cleared his throat. “Your clothes are soaking. You can’t stay in them because you’ll get sick, so I’m giving you some of mine to wear.”
Butterflies exploded in my stomach and I had to fight myself not to blush. I should have been annoyed with the clothing offer, because I couldn’t stand Darcy, but I wasn’t.
“I’m not wearing your clothes,” I said, simply to keep my excitement undetected.
Who the hell gets excited over wearing a lad’s clothes?
Apparently me.
“Do I have to throw another tantrum?” Darcy asked.
I wasn’t looking at him, but I could hear the smile that was sure to be plastered over his stupid good-looking face.
I looked up to him, ignored said smile, and glared. “You’re threatening me.”
It was a statement, not a question.
“You’re a clever cookie,” Darcy teased.
I grunted. “You’d rival a toddler with that bloody tantrum.”
Darcy smirked. “Thank you.”
It wasn’t a compliment and he knew it.
“Fine. I’ll wear your clothes.”
Darcy winked.
I wanted to thump him.
He was really doing me a favour by offering me clean, dry clothes to wear, but he made it out like I was doing him a favour by wearing them.
“The boxers are brand-new; so are the socks. The t-shirt and trousers aren’t though.”
I felt heat flush my cheeks, so I walked over to the bed with my head down.
“Thanks,” I muttered.
“What was that?” Darcy asked, loudly.
I hated him.
“Thanks,” I repeated a little louder.
“I can’t hear you.”
Was he serious?
I set my jaw. “Thank. You.”
Darcy pressed his hand against his chest and faked getting emotional.
“You don’t need to thank me, Neala,” he said, and fanned his face. “You’re so welcome.”
I blinked in boredom.
“I’d punch you, only I don’t wanna get moron on me hand.”
Darcy cut the act and laughed from behind me and patted my shoulder. “I’m finished, I swear. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”
“I won’t need you,” I said to his back as he walked out of his room, snickering to himself.
I scowled at Darcy’s now-closed bedroom door, then looked down at his clothes.
I forced the smile off my face and shook my head.
“You’re pathetic,” I muttered to myself.
I stripped out of my damp and cold clothes, folded them and placed them on top of Darcy’s dresser, then pulled on Darcy’s socks and boxer shorts. I had to use one of my hair ties to tie a knot on the band to keep them from falling down.
