Exactly.
“Because she’s a little shit.”
Sean punched me in the shoulder for the insult. It was nothing new; he knew how Neala and I were. If I cursed her out, he would hit me for it and then it would be forgotten until I opened my mouth about her again.
He was my friend, but he was her brother first, and I respected that completely.
“She got the doll?” he asked, enjoying my situation.
I resisted the urge to rub my shoulder as I nodded. “Not fairly, though. She practically attacked me.”
Sean bit down on his lower lip.
“It’s not funny. She hurt me, man; me nipples are fucking killing me. I thought she made them bleed at one point. Either that or she ripped them clean off. She was like a wild animal.”
Sean fell into me as his laughter erupted from him like a volcano.
“Nipple . . . twisters?” he asked through his laughter.
I lifted my hands to my nipples and flattened my palms over them. I was still in pain. The nipple twisters were unexpected, and that had made receiving them even more painful. I should have been ready for anything when it came to Neala, but in my defence I thought she was too mature now to resort to violence.
She hadn’t come at me in years. I think the last time she hit me out of anger was when we were fifteen and I ‘accidentally’ spilled red fabric dye on her while she was wearing white jeans and told everyone she ‘just became a woman.’ I, of course, announced to our friends a few seconds later that I was only joking – I even showed them the bottle and made it clear it was a prank – but Neala didn’t find it funny.
“Yeah, she twisted so hard I honestly thought they came right off.”
Sean slapped his hand on his knee as he continued to laugh. I lowered my hands from my sensitive nipples and glared at him until he stopped, which wasn’t for a solid two minutes.
“I’m glad you find this funny. I was robbed of the only chance I’ll have to get Dustin that doll because your evil sibling fucked me over. Justin won’t let me forget this.”
I thought of my brother, older by seven years, and winced. I’d told him I’d get that damn doll for Dustin, and now I didn’t have it. I was going to look like a shite uncle on Christmas Day when I had nothing to give Dustin.
He’d asked for this doll, and I had stepped up to the plate and said I’d get it even though there had been only two weeks until Christmas when he asked me.
Sean shook his head. “Jay will be cool about it.”
I snorted and cracked my knuckles. “You’re his best friend – I’m his little brother. He’s gonna kick me arse for breaking me promise to his son and upsetting him.”
Sean considered this, then laughed when he realised I was right: he knew just as well as I did that Justin would want to throw fists if I didn’t get this done.
I didn’t blame my brother for getting so easily annoyed with me over things when it came to his son. Selfishly, when I hadn’t been working, I was so wrapped up in myself the last few years, with partying, bedding different women, and partying some more. I hadn’t spent as much time with Dustin as I should have over the years, and I wanted this present to be a do-over for us. After the holidays I planned on taking him hiking with me, trail running, and fishing in the lake. Just the two of us. Man-to-man time.
It was a deal I had made with myself, and the doll was part of that deal. I didn’t want to break my own word before I could even get a real chance to know my nephew, and that would happen if I didn’t have that doll.
“So go over to Neala’s place and get it back.”
That was a suicide mission.
I grunted. “I can’t, because she bought it . . . She’d probably attack me again and claim I broke into her apartment. I wouldn’t put it past her to call the guards on me either.”
Sean snickered. “I’d usually defend her and say she wouldn’t do that, but she does change when you’re around.”
I’ll say.
“It’s because she likes me so much,” I said, my tone laced with sarcasm.
Sean’s mouth curved, and I didn’t like it.
Not one bit.
“What are you smirking at me like that for?”
“No reason,” he said, mimicking my early voice.
Dick.
“Well, stop.”
Sean continued to smirk, then after a moment of thought he snapped his fingers and jumped to his feet. “I have an idea. Both of us can go over to Neala’s and get that doll back for Dustin.”
Was this clown serious?
I raised my eyebrow. “You want me to break into your sister’s apartment, and steal the doll she just paid for to give to your daughter on Christmas Day?”
Is that what he was saying?
Sean laughed gleefully. “No, and no. We won’t break in – we’ll be invited in. You also won’t be stealing an item belonging to her – you will take back the item that belongs to you. Charli is covered on the present thing; she will be too happy on Christmas morning with her million other presents to even notice a doll is missing. Trust me.”
He was losing it, but I wasn’t about to question him, because it meant I could possibly get the doll back from Neala if he helped.
That aside, I didn’t know how he thought I owned the doll when I told him Neala had paid for the bloody thing.
“Man, I’ve no idea what you smoked, but I didn’t pay for—”
“Neala’s debit card is on the coffee table.”
Was it?
I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, and then sat forward. I reached out and grabbed the card he was talking about. I read the name on the card – Miss Neala Clarke.
How had I ended up with Neala’s debit card?
“I don’t understand,” I muttered in confusion.
Sean sighed. “It’s not that hard to realise what happened, man.”
For him, maybe.
I grunted. “Enlighten me then, oh wise one.”
Sean cracked his knuckles and said, “I’m guessing you and me sister both tried to pay for the doll at the same time, and the person behind the till paid for the doll with your card and gave it back to Neala; then you took her card thinking it was yours. Simple mistake.”
I stared at Sean, and then looked back to Neala’s card.
Holy shite.
“I own the doll?” I asked.
Sean grinned. “You own the doll.”
Oh, hell, yes!
I smiled smugly as I let Sean’s words sink in. I owned the princess doll. I fecking owned it, and all I had to do was get it back from Neala.
My smile dropped when I thought about that particular task, but after a moment I brushed it aside. I could do this – harder things have been accomplished.
I’d have to be vigilant and guard my nipples, but other than that it’d be fun . . . right?
CHAPTER FIVE
Are you nervous?” Sean asked me as we walked down the hallway of Neala’s apartment building.
I swear I could hear my heart beating against my rib cage with every step that took me closer to Neala’s apartment door, and this fool asked me if I was nervous? Try downright terrified.
“Nah, man,” I lied. “This’ll be easy.”
I was well aware that sweat was starting to bead on my forehead, but if Sean noticed it he was being a good mate and not mentioning it. I could have hugged him for that, but since I didn’t want to deal with gay jokes from him for the rest of the day I refrained from showing any sign of grateful emotion. I kept my face expressionless; it was extremely difficult, but I managed.
“Ah, here we are,” Sean announced as we came to a stop in front of a door made from human skeletal remains.
Okay, it was oak, but it might have well been skeletons; Neala was the Devil, after all.
My breathing picked up its pace, my heart pounded faster, and the sweat turned from beads to droplets as they fell from my forehead down to my cheeks. I was very aware of how much of a pansy I was being, but I
didn’t care. I was on her territory, somewhere I had never been before. She could outsmart me here and I wouldn’t be able to do a single thing about it.
This was the stuff Irish nightmares were made of. My nightmares, anyway. Neala was always the star of my nightmares.
“You could at least try to not appear so terrified,” Sean muttered to me as he lifted his hand and knocked three times on the door.
Each pound of his fist against the varnished wooden door made me flinch.
“I’m not scared,” I said after clearing my throat . . . twice.
Sean snorted. “Could’ve fooled me, man.”
I scowled at him and straightened myself up to my full height of six feet three inches.
Stop being a bitch.