Hell Transporter (Between) Page 13

  We were enjoying kicking around the pool when Mona came in with Ravi and Micah following close behind. And if that wasn’t bad enough, Derek was with them. Tattoos snaked up and down his slim frame, including one of a laughing skull on his left shoulder. Mona was wearing a white terry cover-up, and her high heels clicked like little hammers on the floor as she walked the length of the pool. She stopped at the corner and made eye contact with Aiden, a haughty smile of satisfaction on her face. Kicking off her shoes, she dropped the cover-up in a puddle at her feet, revealing a string bikini that left nothing to the imagination. It was white with three small triangles: two on the top that barely covered her nipples, and one down below, leaving no doubt she’d shaved. The brightness of the bikini stood in stark contrast to her creamy brown skin. Her dark hair fell in perfect waves around her shoulders like she’d spent all day at the salon.

  I hated hated hated her.

  Her entourage sighed in unison when her cover-up hit the floor. Aiden stood stock-still in the water next to me, his face frozen with shock. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  “What’s the matter, Scotty? Cat got your tongue?” she asked him in her nasal-toned New York accent. Turning away, she climbed down the ladder into the pool, affording us all a view of her perfectly round ass, the whisper of a white string threaded between her cheeks. Micah swore in utter reverence at the sight. Disgusted, I swam off just as Aiden wrenched his gaze away from the spectacle.

  I’m leaving. His voice rang out clear and steady in my head.

  When I reached the end of the lane, I glanced at Mona, who was laughing and splashing water at Ravi, her full breasts bobbing on the water. I wanted to leave, too, but I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of chasing me out of the pool.

  Go. I want to swim a couple more laps.

  He narrowed his eyes at me, probably deciding whether or not to force the issue, but then turned and left the pool. Micah watched him go with a look of smug amusement. Trying to block them out, I swam to the end of the lane and then turned and headed in the opposite direction, wondering how many lanes I would need to swim before I could cool down enough to face Aiden again.

  I shouldn’t blame him for staring at her because that was obviously her intent. Everyone was staring at her, so why would he be any different? Except he was supposed to be different, dammit. He was mine.

  When I stopped at the end of the pool, Micah was waiting for me in the adjacent lane, one arm slung over the rounded concrete edge. He laughed when he saw me and asked with a sneer, “What’s the matter? Does the sight of such a fine woman make you feel fat and ugly?” He stuck out his bottom lip in a condescending pout on the words ‘fat’ and ‘ugly.’ His wolfish gaze swept hungrily over Mona’s nearly naked body.

  “You’re dating Stephanie. Don’t you even care about her?” I demanded.

  His head whipped around like I’d slapped him, but then he affected a nonchalant attitude. “What about her? I’m just looking. No law against that.”

  “You’re a pig.” I spat the words at him and started to swim away, but he caught me up short.

  “Yeah, well, you’re a cold-hearted bitch. Where do you get off anyway? Stringing Ravi along all last year, making him chase you around and grovel at your feet like he’d run that damn car into the ditch on purpose. Only to rip his heart out when you come waltzing in with Captain Wonderstud, flaunting your new man-candy and expecting all of us to roll over and pretend like we’re best friends. That’s bullshit and you know it.”

  Mona’s throaty laugh echoed in the enclosed building. She flung her wet hair over her shoulder, arching her back and locking her legs around Ravi’s waist. Even from across the pool, I could see the tent pole in Ravi’s shorts as he held her in his arms.

  Glaring at Micah, I climbed out of the pool.

  “Screw you. Besides, he seems to be recovering just fine, so I don’t think you need to worry about it.”

  Derek stopped swimming laps and tucked a strand of his long hair behind one ear, watching the drama unfold. I started to stalk off, ignoring the way his knowing smile was creeping me out.

  To my surprise, Micah leaped out of the pool after me and grabbed me by the wrist, making me wince.

  “You can tell your boyfriend that he may be Paul’s newest lapdog now, but Paul will come back to his real friends as soon as he figures out what a tool Aiden is.” His grip on my wrist tightened and I whimpered with the force of it.

  “Let her go.”

  Aiden’s voice sliced through the room like the edge of a blade. A shiver of relief ran down my spine. I hadn’t seen him come in and apparently neither had Micah. He dropped my wrist and jerked backward, but then crossed his arms over his chest and stared at Aiden in defiance.

  “What are you gonna do about it?” Micah challenged.

  My stomach clenched in fear when I saw the look on Aiden’s face, the same one he’d had on the battlefield before he’d killed those English soldiers. His body was tensed and ready to spring, his hands slightly open in preparation for the fight. My head swiveled from one to the other. Even Mona had quieted, watching expectantly.

  I couldn’t get my voice to work but I felt like I had to do something or Aiden was likely to rip Micah’s tongue out and shove it down his throat. I stepped between them, breaking their eye contact. Aiden slipped one arm protectively around me. He ushered me toward the door, putting his body between me and Micah, but never taking his eyes off him.

  When the door closed behind us, Aiden handed me a towel and said, “Get dressed,” then stood guard at the door until I’d made it into the women’s locker room.

  Chapter 21

  The next day I called my mom to tell her I’d met someone and to ask if we could have dinner with her on Saturday. The excitement and suspicion in her voice reverberated through the phone lines. I could almost hear the wheels turning in her head: Lindsey’s never brought home a guy before. What’s so special about this one that she not only wants him to meet the folks, but is in such a hurry to make that happen?

  She peppered me with questions: What’s his name? Where did I meet him? What does he look like? How long had we been dating?

  By the time we hung up, I was exhausted. My stomach seized up at the thought of breaking the news about our engagement face-to-face. That anxiety had blossomed into a full-blown panic attack by the time Saturday rolled around and we pulled into my dad’s driveway.

  When Dad came out of the house, he greeted Aiden like they were old friends. Dad was wearing his typical work outfit of khakis and a dress shirt, his wavy brown hair unkempt like it usually was by the end of the day. Something about seeing them together again calmed me down. Dad gave me a hug and a kiss, then helped haul our bags inside. He gave Aiden a tour of the house, finally dropping his things in the guest room.

  Aiden smiled when he saw my bedroom: ruffled pillows and a pink comforter covered in white daisies, and lacy curtains hanging in the octagonal bay window. He’d seen it before, when I’d cast the scene in the realm in between, and he shot me a quick wink of acknowledgment while Dad wasn’t looking. Remembering the way his legs had dangled off the edge of the trundle bed before, I smiled back at him. The knot in my stomach started to release.

  We’d gotten a late start that morning, so we didn’t have much time to hang out with Dad before we had to get over to Bellevue to meet Mom and Nick for dinner. I didn’t know which I was more stressed about: having to tell Mom I was getting married or having to make small talk with Nick for an entire meal. The fact that he’d broken up my parents’ marriage was something I just couldn’t forgive, even though I knew it wasn’t entirely his fault. He’d tried to make peace with me in the hospital after the accident, but seeing him with my mom still made me sick to my stomach. It was unnatural. She was supposed to be with my dad. Still, he seemed to make her happy, so I did my best to deal.

  My face ached from scowling.

  Aiden knew I was wound up and wisely kept to himself during the drive over. W
hen I parked on the street outside the high rise where they lived, he craned his neck to try and see the top of the building.

  “This is where they live? In that tower?” he asked.

  “Mmhmm,” I responded, my mouth set in a thin line as I led him through the glass double doors of the lobby. I punched the button for the elevator and the doors slid open, revealing the swanky padded box. I stepped in and Aiden followed, his brow furrowed.

  “Lindsey...” he said, concerned as the doors started to close.

  “It’s an elevator, just like the one at the Space Needle, remember?”

  He frowned. “That one had windows so I could see out. I don’t care overmuch for being trapped inside.” He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the door until we reached the top.

  Mom met us at the door, smiling brightly. The powder blue dress she wore accentuated her lithe, dancer’s figure. Her eyes swept over Aiden in surprise and approval.

  “Come in, come in! Don’t just stand out there in the hall.” She fussed over us as she ushered us in, using her best hostess voice. It felt awkward, like I was a guest and not her daughter. She never sounded like that unless she was trying to impress someone. I stood in the middle of the room, unsure of what to say.

  “Sit down!” Her long blonde hair slipped over one shoulder as she gestured with her head to the couch. “Can I get you something to drink, Aiden was it?”

  I jerked to life, suddenly remembering my manners.

  “Oh, um, sorry. Mom, this is Aiden. Aiden, this is my mom, Elizabeth.”

  “Lovely to meet you, Mrs. Waters.” He leaned forward and kissed her hand in a move only he could get away with. She made girly noises of appreciation.

  “Call me Elizabeth, please. Drink?” she asked again, and Aiden politely declined.

  My eyes wandered over the condo, trying to find a hint of my mom’s touch. I failed. Everything was modern, silver and sleek. The white leather couch appeared cold and uncomfortable, and probably cost more than my car. A ceramic greyhound stood at attention in the corner, eyes unseeing. A single calla lily in a tall vase graced the glass coffee table. It looked like a furniture store display, not a home. Sure, my mom wasn’t the overly maternal type—baking cookies and all that—but the home where I grew up was warm, welcoming, and lived in. Not like this.

  Nick came in and we made another round of introductions and then we all stood staring at one another. The silence became too uncomfortable to bear.

  Well, here goes.

  I said a quick prayer for courage and then blurted, “Mom, Aiden and I are getting married in December.”

  Her eyes flew open.

  She was obviously not expecting that. The overly bright façade she reserved for company cracked. She frowned at me in confusion, her voice wavering slightly.

  “Married? In December? But that’s only a few months away. Why on earth would you…” Her eyes flickered to my stomach as the color drained from her face. “Oh my God, you’re pregnant, aren’t you?” Her voice was leaden with disappointment.

  The tension spring inside me snapped.

  “Yeah, Mom, I’m pregnant,” I snarled. “So I dragged him all the way up here to meet you so I could see your face when I told you we were going to have a shotgun wedding. Nice. Thanks a lot, Mom.”

  Her eyes flashed with anger and she started to speak, but Nick beat her to it.

  “Lindsey, that’s no way to talk to your mother. You apologize right now.”

  Mom and I both stared at him, affronted by his intrusion.

  “Excuse me, Nick, but I can handle my daughter. I don’t need your help.” Mom spat the words at him and he reared back in offense, then turned and walked out of the room. She whipped her head back to me, all business, with her face set. Her steely eyes bore through me.

  “Fine, so you’re not pregnant. I’m sorry.” There was no apology in her voice, but it was as good as I was going to get. I nodded in acceptance. “Then why December? What’s the rush?”

  Aiden stepped in with a shy smile and tipped his head to her. “I’m afraid that’d be my fault, ma’am.” She cocked one eyebrow at him in surprise but said nothing. “You see, I knew the first day I met your daughter that she was the one I’d been waiting for. And I was not keen on waiting any longer. I understand December seems awfully soon to ye, but make no mistake: I’d take her to the kirk on the morn if and she would let me.” His face was so sincere that Mom softened, the corner of her mouth pulling up in an unexpected smile.

  “I’m not sure I understood half of what you just said, but you’re very sweet,” she said to him and then regarded me for a moment, letting her breath out slowly. “December, huh? Are you sure?” I nodded at her and she smiled with a shrug. “Come here, you.” She held out her arms and I sank into them, feeling the worry and fear dissipate as she hugged me tight. She pulled away and I tilted my head up to her with a grin. “Married. My baby girl. I can hardly believe it. Oh my goodness, we have so much work to do!” Her whole carriage changed at the thought of planning a wedding. She was literally humming with anticipation.

  “Yeah, Dad said you’d be happy, since you love to spend his money.”

  She threw her head back and laughed. “Yes, your father knows me very well.” Her eyes twinkled as she looked at me and for the first time, I started to get really excited about the wedding. “We can talk all about the particulars at dinner. But we’d better go. We have reservations.” She called to Nick over her shoulder and then retrieved her coat from the hall closet.

  Aiden excused himself to use the restroom and I pulled Mom aside, quickly filling her in on my ideas for the wedding. She was surprised at first, but I could see the gears turning behind her eyes, and she rose to the challenge.

  “Well, it’s going to be hard, but where there’s a will, there’s a way.” She smiled brightly at me and gave me a quick squeeze. “Ooh, this is going to be so much fun!” she said. I giggled, caught up in her excitement. Nick appeared then and grabbed his coat from the closet, purposefully not making eye contact with her. Staring at his back, she pursed her lips but then shook her head as if she was going to say something and then thought better of it.

  The restaurant they’d chosen was fancy and expensive, and I stared at the menu, trying to decide what to eat. Nick asked for the wine list and ordered a bottle of merlot for the table. When the waiter returned, I chose the salmon special, Aiden ordered the trout and Nick said, “We’ll both have the sea scallops.” He closed his menu and held out his hand for Mom’s. She gave him a pointed look but didn’t say anything, instead taking a deep swig of her wine. The tension between them seemed to run deeper than the earlier confrontation, and I squirmed in my seat, trying to think of a way to lighten the mood.

  “So, school’s going well so far this semester. My French teacher asked me to be a tutor for the freshmen, which has been kinda fun. Aiden speaks French, so he’s been helping me study.”

  Mom turned to him in surprise and he obliged her with a couple of sentences in the language, which thoroughly impressed her.

  The conversation halted and we struggled to make small talk while Mom and Nick resolutely ignored one another, speaking very formally and only when necessary. It was incredibly uncomfortable and I had no idea what was going on between them, but I wanted to be anywhere but there. When the food arrived, I sighed with relief, eager to get the evening over with. Mom picked at her food with disdain, pushing the scallops around on her plate and barely touching her meal. Waves of irritation spilled off of her. At least I knew they weren’t directed at me.

  “Is there something wrong with your dinner, Elizabeth? We can send it back if it’s not good,” Nick offered stiffly. Mom waved a hand in dismissal, her eyes on the table.

  I leaned over and peered at her dish. “Isn’t there white wine in that sauce? I thought you didn’t like white wine, Mom.”

  Her head snapped up as she looked over at me then barked a joyless laugh. “I don’t.” She wiped her mouth with he
r napkin and dropped it on the table. “Excuse me,” she said crossly and then left. I threw a look of apology to Aiden and followed her.

  I thought she was headed toward the restroom, but she turned instead and went out the front doors. She sat down on a bench outside the restaurant. Her shoulders slumped forward as she stared unseeingly over the parking lot.

  “Mom? Is everything okay?” I sat down beside her.

  She blew out a deep breath and ran a hand through her hair. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make a scene. It’s just… sometimes I really can’t take him.”

  I wasn’t sure I wanted to navigate that minefield, but I didn’t have much choice. “You mean because he ordered your meal without consulting you?”

  “Yes! No. It’s… ugh.” She stood up and started pacing in front of the bench. “It’s more than that. I mean, it’s been a year and a half now that I’ve been living with him and he still doesn’t know me at all. He thinks he does, but he doesn’t.”

  “So tell him,” I offered, confused. My mom always had her share of faults, but being timid about offering her opinion was never one of them.

  “I have!” she roared, then dropped onto the bench next to me, her hands shaking. She dug in her purse and pulled out a cigarette. She flicked the lighter and took a deep drag.

  “Mom! When did you start smoking again? You worked so hard to quit.” The thought that Nick had driven her to smoke again made me want to kill him.

  “A couple months ago,” she said. “It helps settle my nerves.” I didn’t know what to say, so I just sat there while she smoked, the familiar stench circling around us. “Your father knows me,” she said quietly, almost to herself. I definitely didn’t want to defend Nick, but I also didn’t want to get in a discussion about my father.

  “Nick hasn’t known you as long. Maybe he just needs some time.”

  She shook her head emphatically and exhaled, the smoke curling around her head. “No, it’s not that. Even in the beginning, your father wanted to know me. He wanted to know what I liked and what I didn’t like. He asked and he listened to the answer and then he remembered it. He learned my moods and how to read me. No, your father knows me well because it was important to him, not because we were together for so long.” A tear slid down her cheek and she wiped it away angrily. “Damn it!” She stood up and started pacing again.