Hell Transporter (Between) by Cyndi Tefft Read Free Book Online Page B

the couch with my heart racing and my head swimming.
    What’s that, love? He finally responded, not looking at me but keeping up the smooth conversation with my dad, who chuckled at something he’d said. Dad got up to stoke the fire and Aiden turned to me, concerned.
    What is it, Lindsey? I shook my head at him in bewilderment and he excused himself to use the restroom, telling me silently to come join him outside in a moment. Dad didn’t look up from the fire and I rocked back and forth on the couch, trying to figure out what the hell was happening.
    Just give me a minute and then you can come out to tell me what’s troubling you. Your Da’s an upstanding man. Everything is going to be just—Oh look, a wee fat cat. Thick with drink, Aiden’s voice rambled on in my head like a running monologue.
    “Weel, are you not a cute wee beastie with your bonnie white stripe?” I heard him say through the open door and my heart stopped.
    Aiden, no! That’s not a cat! I cried out to him mentally and leapt off the couch, but it was too late.
    “Aaaaggggghhhhh!” Aiden screamed, letting loose a string of Gaelic obscenities. I was nowhere near close enough to have physically felt the skunk’s blast myself, but I tasted the vile spray in my mouth a split second before Aiden cried out. My eyes watered and I tried desperately to stifle a gag reflex as my nostrils burned with the scent. Dad went running past me at Aiden’s cry.
    “Holy crap! Poor bastard, he got you good!” I heard him say. At once, the taste and stink filling my head dissipated like a switch had been flipped and I stood in the living room, shaking and confused. The stench started creeping into the cabin proper, so I went through and closed all the windows.
    Dad shouted to me from outside. “Lindsey! Bring me a couple of plastic bags and grab some clothes out of my suitcase for him.” I raced upstairs to dig up something for Aiden to change into, thankful to have something helpful to do. Dad was nowhere near as tall as Aiden, with a round belly to boot, but Aiden had a belt, so I figured he’d be able to keep the shorts on at least. I scrambled down the stairs and shoved the clothes into Dad’s hands along with the plastic bags he’d asked for. He took them but returned a moment later.
    “Do we have any tomato sauce?” he asked.
    I dug through the cupboards and piled all the cans I could find into his arms, along with the can opener. I paced back and forth, wishing there were something I could do to help. After what seemed like an eternity, Dad came in, looking haggard, his mouth set in a thin, hard line. He stunk pretty badly himself and I had to force myself to not cover my nose as he sat down on the chair next to the fire.
    “Where’s Aiden? Is he okay?” I asked, breathing through my mouth.
    “He’ll live.” His tone was curt and I frowned at him, but he wouldn’t look at me.
    Aiden finally appeared in the doorway, looking embarrassed and uncomfortable in my dad’s oversized shorts and a polo shirt that was too tight across the shoulders. His ruined clothing was tied up in the plastic bag, dangling from one hand. His pride was obviously damaged, but he stood tall and stuck his chin out, speaking in a calm, clear voice.
    “Thank you, Gary, for your help. I’ll be going now.” His eyes met mine for a moment and he sighed, shaking his head in apology.
    Dad came into the kitchen, stopping between us. “Come on then, I’ll drive you home,” he practically growled. He was acting like Aiden had purposefully gotten sprayed or something, and it was starting to piss me off.
    “Begging your pardon, sir, but if it’s all the same to you, I think it best if I walk home. I could use the fresh air, if you take my meaning.” He managed a weak smile and Dad nodded.
    “Oh, I understand more than you think.” Sarcasm dripped from his tongue and I turned, ready to ask him what his freaking problem was when he launched something through the air. Aiden