I looked down to Einstein and lifted my hand up so she could get on top of her cage and nibble on the fruit that I’d put onto different sections of her cage yesterday. She had access to her water bottle there, too.
I turned away from Einstein and walked over to the storage room, where I paused as I reached for the door handle.
“Promise you won’t attack me if I open the door.”
Neala laughed.
“That doesn’t give me any reason to let you out, Neala.”
She quieted down and muttered, “Okay, I won’t hit you.”
She didn’t sound the least bit truthful.
“Try again, and this time make me believe you.”
I could feel Neala’s hate for me radiate through the storage room door, and it only caused me to grin. The next while after she was free from the storage room would be interesting, that was for damn sure.
“Darcy,” Neala started, “please let me out of this storage room. I promise not to attack you if you do.”
It was forced, but possibly honest.
“Okay, good enough.”
I leaned forward, turned the lock on the door and pressed down on the handle. I had every intention of apologising for keeping her in the storage room and explaining why I had done what I did, but suddenly all of my thoughts went out the window, and I jumped back like I had been burned when the door was kicked open and a disoriented and wild Neala emerged.
She squinted at the light in the room and lifted her hands to shield her eyes from the beams. She lowered them only after she blinked a few times and allowed her eyes to adjust. When her vision was clear, she quickly glanced around the room. The moment her eyes landed on me I tensed. Her eyes were narrowed and her teeth were now bared. She gripped a tea towel that was in her hand and hissed at me.
Fuck.
She was fuming mad.
“You promised!” I yelped, and stumbled backward.
Neala’s eyes bored into mine as she rolled the tea towel in her hand as tightly as she could and snarled, “I lied.”
Oh, shite.
“What are you going to do with the tea tow— Ow!”
I looked down to my leg and gritted my teeth. She’d whipped my thigh with the tea towel, and it bloody hurt!
A lot.
“You locked me in your storage room all night; you practically held me hostage!” Neala snarled, her eyes wild with rage.
I held my hands up in front of my chest and slowly started to back away from her and toward my escape – the kitchen door.
“You broke into me house, and you gave me the runs – that outdoes anything I’ve done to you in the last twelve hours!” I snapped right back.
Neala hesitated in advancing on me; she folded her arms across her chest and grinned impishly. “I knew you would take those drinks from your ma and down them. It was a beautiful thing to watch, really.”
Holy crap.
The deception hit me like a freight train.
“You drafted me mother onto your side?” I accused.
How bloody dared she co-opt my unknowing mother into her villainous scheme? That woman had birthed me!
“No, not necessarily.” Neala smirked, her face a mask of wickedness. “I paid one of the bartenders to give us the wrong drinks; I only suggested to your ma that you liked whiskey and would be glad of both of them. It was a piece of cake. Your ma didn’t want them to go to waste, and since I knew none of the women at the table would drink them I knew she would do as I suggested and bring the drinks to you.”
I narrowed my eyes at the she-devil. “I cannot believe you. I can understand using my mother as a pawn in your satanic plan if it was for something less than this, but you upped the ante this time around. You all but twisted my insides, Neala. I’ve never messed with your body. What you did to me is just deplorable.”
I blinked my eyes when Neala threw the tea towel at my face and screeched, “Liar! You gave me food poisoning at Sean’s twentieth birthday party. I was bed bound and puking for days!”
I winced.
I had forgotten about that.
“I didn’t do that on purpose, though; I really thought that chicken was in date. What you did to me was planned down to a tee, you vicious pig!”
I wished I’d used a different word instead of pig when Neala’s face twisted in rage. I stepped away from her in case she decided to unleash her building fury upon me.
“You kept me hostage all night, had your parrot insult me all morning, and now you’re calling me fat?”
Oh, Jesus.
I was going to die today.
I didn’t answer Neala; nor did I try to explain that I wasn’t calling her fat. Instead, I turned and ran out of the kitchen so fast I left a smoke trail behind me. I didn’t care if it made me a coward, a bitch, or anything else. No one else knew how hard Neala could punch, and from the look in her rage-filled eyes, I knew she would aim for my balls if given the chance. I wasn’t giving her that opportunity.
“Darcy!” she bellowed from behind me.
I could hear her feet smack against my tiled kitchen floor, and for a moment I wished she would slip and fall so she would be preoccupied and wouldn’t come after me.
Was that mean?
“Shite!” I yelped when what could only be described as a semi–heavy-set monkey jumped on my back.
I instinctively reached up and grabbed Neala’s arms when she tried to wrap them around my neck. I was ready for that move this time around.
Not today, Clarke. Not today!
“Are you crazy?” I snapped, and tried to wriggle her off my back, but she clung onto me for dear life.
I tried to wriggle her off some more, but when those efforts failed I grunted and staggered into my living room, where I tried to forward flip her off my back and onto my couch. When that didn’t work I got annoyed and decided to play dirty. I let go of her arms, reached behind my back, and tickled her sides all the way down to her outer thighs. This was one hundred percent effective because Neala was ticklish, extremely ticklish.
“Bastard!” she screeched, and let go of me.
She fell backwards and landed on her back on my red oak floor with a mighty thud.
I winced as I turned around and looked down at her.
I placed my hands on my hips and sighed. “Are you okay, Neala Girl?”
Neala made a noise that wasn’t exactly human, and it freaked me out. I was afraid to lean down in case she was faking and grabbed at me, so instead I reached out and nudged her with my foot to make sure she was still alive.
“Darcy,” she growled through her pain. “Get your disgusting foot away from me right now.”
I grinned inwardly at her threatening outburst.
She was fine.
“Still afraid of men’s feet?” I asked, and raised my leg so I could wriggle my foot around in front of her face and annoy her further.
She screeched and pushed herself away from me.
“Not afraid, just repulsed,” she spat.
I looked down at my foot, then back up to Neala’s curled lip, and smirked.
She growled at me, “Don’t even think about it.”
I raised a curious eyebrow. “Think about what?”
“Whatever nasty thing is going through your tiny mind right now.”
She never missed a chance to insult me.
I raised my hands in the air. “I’m not thinking about doing anything; therefore I’m not going to do anything . . . You, on the other hand, are.”
Neala slowly got to her feet.
I swa
llowed as her dress rose a little higher up her thighs than it should have. I swallowed again and looked away when she gripped the hem and tugged it down.
“What am I going to do?” she asked, her voice strained as she shook away the pain from her fall.
I looked at her face and grinned. “You’re going to get out of me house.”
Neala stared at me with unblinking eyes. “What?”
“You are leaving me house. Right now, actually,” I said, and reached up to scratch my head.
I ruffled my hair a little to help get rid of the just-out-of-bed look. Neala moved slowly as a zombie as she trained her gaze on me and followed my movements, staring at me a little longer than normal. She even bit down on her lower lip as she scanned her eyes over me in a leisurely matter.
Interesting.
“Neala,” I called, and snapped my fingers to get her attention.
She jumped a little, then narrowed her eyes when she saw my smirk. She knew I’d caught her checking me out. I could also see the moment her expression turned to one of disgust at herself.
“Why are you in just a pair of trousers?” she snapped, and made a big show of looking away from my chest and stomach.
I laughed. “Maybe because your banging on the storage room door woke me up and didn’t leave me time to pull on anything more?”
Neala scoffed, “Whatever. Just . . . just go put some more clothes on.”
And miss her being this flustered?
Not a chance.
“Nah, I like wearing just these trousers. The fabric is thin and I like feeling the crisp morning air tickle me balls.”
Neala reached down and grabbed a cushion from my couch and flung it at me.
I caught it and laughed loudly.
“Stop being a dick!”
“Never.” I grinned.
Neala screeched in annoyance and left the living room. She didn’t go in the direction of the kitchen, though; she took a right turn, which would lead her to my bedroom, dining room, or bathroom. And the bathroom was off limits for at least another two or three hours. Even though I’d cleaned up and the room was spotless – I wouldn’t risk my lungs in that room just yet. It was under biohazard quarantine until further notice.