Read Hell Transporter (Between) Online
Authors: Cyndi Tefft
Glaring at the girl, I hissed, “Just. Ring. It. Up.”
She shrugged like it was no biggie and took her sweet time with the rest of the items, never taking her eyes off Aiden. When she finally finished, I snatched the bags off the counter and stormed out. After I climbed into the driver’s side, I slammed the door, making the whole car shake with the impact.
“The nerve of her, staring at you like that! I should have kicked her ass.” I considered going back in, but Aiden stopped me with a hand on my arm.
“What the bloody hell is in that blasted box?” His voice was raised in indignation, having obviously not enjoyed being mentally undressed any more than I had enjoyed watching it.
“Protection.” I spat out the word more forcefully than I meant to, jerking the seat forward. I revved the engine and sped out of the dirt parking lot, kicking up a cloud of dust.
“Protection from what? Slow down, Lindsey.” Aiden’s voice was controlled but firm, and I reluctantly lightened up on the gas pedal.
But dammit, being angry felt good. It felt like
doing
something, instead of just waiting for the walls to crumble around me. Like maybe if I could just focus on one enemy at a time, I could take on the world and keep him safe.
The trees outside sped past as I reigned in my temper. I took deep breaths to calm the tremors inside. Aiden didn’t press, but I could feel his eyes on me. Finally, I pulled off to the side of the road and killed the engine. Turning to him, I explained the function and proper use of a condom. A muscle in his jaw clenched as his face registered understanding. He didn’t say anything for a long time, but sat looking out the window. Silence sucked the air out of the car.
I had no idea why he was upset, so I couldn’t even apologize. Was it because I got mad at the cashier? Peeled out of the parking lot? Embarrassed him by talking about condoms? What? Theories swirled in my head as I listened to him breathing, but nothing prepared me for what he said.
“Is bearing my child such a horrible thought to you, then?”
I choked on a semi-hysterical laugh until I saw the depth of hurt in his eyes. Instantly, all the frustration and anger I’d felt dissolved and I slumped down in my seat, deflated. Raking my fingers through my hair, I tried desperately to come up with the right response. I opened my mouth, but no words came out.
“I never thought I’d have children, Lindsey.” The tenderness and hope in his voice sliced through me. I sent up a silent prayer for strength and took a deep breath.
“Aiden, I don’t even know what to say. Of course I want to have a baby with you. Someday, but not now. Not now, when I’m still in school and you’re… you’re… I mean, you just… we don’t even…” I let out a frustrated groan. This was falling apart. It wasn’t the rest of the world that was going to do us in. We were doing a hell of a job of it ourselves.
He finally turned to me and nodded, his eyes a little sad. “You’re right. It’s selfish of me to even think of it. I suppose we don’t need to complicate matters any further just yet.” He touched my cheek, his fingertips whisper soft against my skin. “We’ll both have to make sacrifices for this to work, but we’re together now and that’s all that matters, aye?” The old confidence was back in his voice. I gazed up at him and nodded, my heart buoyed by his smile.
“Let’s go home,” he said.
I pulled the car back onto the road, feeling like we had one thing down but a thousand more to go.
We spent the next two days holed up at the cabin, blocking out the world and reconnecting. The sanctuary of the woods wrapped around us like a cocoon, binding us tight against the uncertainty of our future. I continued teaching him everything I could think of, but at a less frantic pace. Aiden absorbed the information like a sponge, igniting a hope in my chest that grew with each passing hour.
Finally, the time came to break out of our isolated shell, mostly because he desperately needed new clothes. We drove about two hours to Spokane, the largest city close by, and hit the mall. I made him leave his dirk at home, which he absolutely did not want to do. I explained that no one carries weapons anymore and we could get in major trouble if anyone saw it. He relented but would not forego the small black knife in his sock that he called a “skeen doo.” He wrote it out for me on the journal and the Gaelic spelling looked nothing like the pronunciation:
“sgian dubh.”
I thought my French classes were hard, but Gaelic seemed downright impossible.
At the mall, we decided to mostly keep quiet and use our mental connection to communicate. He kept up a steady stream of questions to me in his mind and I dutifully answered him in kind. Strangers watching us must have thought we were pissed at each other for how little we talked. And there certainly were strangers watching us, at least when we first entered the mall.
Aiden looked the part of a character fresh from a Renaissance fair but had such a naturally regal air that people didn’t snicker. Instead, they gaped openly at him as we passed. I picked out some clothes for him in the men’s department and showed him the fitting rooms, which was a good test of the range of our mental connection abilities.
I wandered throughout the store, appearing to be looking at clothes, but was actually listening intently to see how far away I could get and still hear him. To my delight, there seemed to be no limit to the distance I could go. His thoughts were as clear in my mind as if he were standing right next to me.
I laughed out loud at his confusion over how to use a zipper and the saleswoman standing next to me gave me a curious glance. I smiled at her and moved on, telling Aiden to pull the silver tab at the top to make the garment open and close. When I made my way back to the fitting rooms, he came out and paraded his clothes before me for approval. I could tell he was uncomfortable, being so accustomed to the freedom of his kilt, but he was making the best of it.
Still hate the underwear?
I asked with a mischievous grin.
He arched one perfect eyebrow.
They’re binding as the devil, so I’ve no idea why men wear them.
I reached up on my tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek.
I think they’re sexy.
He grabbed me around the waist, bringing me close for a real kiss.
Ah, well, you just answered my question then, didn’t ye?
I purchased his new wardrobe, which took a huge toll on my available funds, but I didn’t care. In his modern clothes, he blended in better with the rest of the shoppers and my body tingled with excitement at the progress we’d made. Wandering the rest of the mall with our hands linked, I started to enjoy introducing him to my world. I knew it was overwhelming for him, but he took everything in stride, asking questions only to understand, not to judge.
We came to a big toy structure crawling with children and he paused, watching the kids with a wistful smile. He gestured to a thin red-haired boy gleefully climbing the padded slide.
That one, there, he reminds me of my brother Willie when he was a wee lad. I’m glad ye got to meet him, if only for a moment.
My mind flashed to the scene at the castle when Aiden had taught his brother how to kill a man with a dirk. “Under the breastbone and push up,” he’d told Willie, whose face had drained of all color. A shudder ran through me at the memory, which seemed so far removed from the sweet, giggling child before us. My heart ached to be able to go back in time and save Willie, to make it all better. Instead, I offered Aiden the only hope I had to give.
Maybe we’ll have a red-haired boy someday. Not yet, but someday. Like your brother, like your dad.
He turned me to face him and his eyes held mine. The squealing of the children around us faded as the world slowed and all I could see was Aiden. He didn’t have to say, “I love you.” It was written all over his face. He enfolded me in his arms, his heart thrumming a steady beat against my cheek. Releasing me, he intertwined his fingers through mine once again and brought them to his lips.
We browsed the bookstore, ate lunch in the food court and went to a movie. The enormous screen completely mesmerized him and I found myself watching Aiden more than the film. His face was so honest, so filled with wonder at discovering this new world, that I couldn’t help but smile.
When we got home, he spent the evening writing notes in the journal while I curled up next to him on the couch with a hot chocolate, watching the fire and counting my blessings.
The next morning, I decided to give him a break and we stayed home to give his mind some time to file away all the information he’d taken in. It was my turn to learn now, and we spent the day speaking French to one another. He was extraordinarily patient and gracious, complimenting me on my language skills and introducing new words and phrases, then quizzing me on them later. We went for a walk and came upon a patch of wild roses, growing in thick, pink swirls along the side of the road.
“Ah, les roses...
elles sont belles, n’est pas?”
he asked, then bent down to smell one.
“Oui!”
I couldn’t think of the words in French, so I added in English,
“I think they smell like candy.” Two teenage boys ambled past us on the road, kicking a pinecone back and forth. They gave us a cursory glance and moved on but just the presence of other people was enough for us to switch to talking with our minds.
To say that in French, it’s ‘Je pense qu’ils sentent comme la sucrerie,
’ he said.
Right! It was the ‘sucrerie’ I couldn’t remember
. I smacked myself on the forehead and he laughed at me.
Peut-être une rose pour tes cheveux.
He reached into the bush to pluck a flower for my hair. I warned him in my mind (and in English) to watch out for thorns but he interrupted me.
Lindsey, you’re supposed to be speaking Fre—
“Ow!” I cried. Aiden jerked his hand away from the bush. My finger stung like something had poked me and I stuck it in my mouth, certain it would be bleeding. I didn’t taste any blood.
Aiden stared at me like I’d grown another head.
I quit sucking on my finger long enough to snap at him and said, “What? I hurt my finger.”
“How?” he asked with an eerie calm.
It felt like I’d pricked it on a thorn, but since I wasn’t standing anywhere near the rose bushes, that couldn’t be it.
“I don’t know. Bug bite, maybe. Why, what’s the big deal?”
He held out his hand, palm up. A small pool of blood had begun to form on the index finger of his right hand.
I looked down at my own hand, which still hurt a little bit. Same hand. Same finger. No blood. It wasn’t even red.
“I went to pick a rose for you and caught a thorn with the tip of my finger just when you cried out behind me.” Before I could stop him, he reached out and pricked another finger on the rose bush.
“Did you feel that?” he asked, his eyes intense.
“No, I didn’t,” I said, my tone harsher than I meant it to be. “Don’t poke yourself anymore. It was just a fluke. Like I said, bug bite or something.” He didn’t look convinced. “How do you say ‘bug bite’ in French?” I asked, hoping to distract him. When he answered, I grabbed his (non-bleeding) hand and pulled him along the path, wanting to put the roses and that freaky incident behind us.
~
The summer passed by in a blissful blur, the two of us sheltered from the outside world in our little cabin home. Being with him again felt surreal and more than once, I found myself simply staring at him, unable to fathom that he was with me again.
“What?” he’d say, whenever I went into one of those trances.
“Nothing. Just... you,” I’d say and then he’d nod and kiss me.
Being with Aiden was like finding a precious gem. Part of me wanted to keep him all to myself, to not let anyone intrude on our time together, but another part of me wanted to show him off, to shout it from the rooftops that Aiden was alive, and that he was mine.
Dad called to check on me after about three weeks had gone by because he hadn’t heard from me since the end of the school year. I told him I’d met someone and that I planned to stay the whole summer. He gave me a little ribbing about my new
boyfriend
, emphasizing the word like I was twelve or something. Still, he put a fresh deposit on my cash card, which made me want to crawl through the phone lines and hug him.
Even though Aiden worked diligently to learn everything about this time and place, worry still followed me around like a shadow. Once the summer was over, I’d have to go back to school, back to the dorms with Jennifer and Stephanie. Where would he live? What would he do? Even if he caught up enough to fool everyone, he’d still need a place to stay and he sure as heck couldn’t room with me. Aiden seemed unconcerned though, and continually assured me that everything would work out, that I just had to have faith.
“Don’t you ever get worried?” I asked him one night, exasperated with his cheerful attitude and feeling shameful about my own lack of faith.
He thought about it for a moment and shook his head. “The only thing I’ve to fear is losing you, and I can’t believe the good Lord would go to such pains to give you to me only to take you away.”