Читать книгу Through the Night - Lynette Theisen - Страница 16

I met Kyran in the parking lot as planned, and we drove off in his Porsche. We went down Main Street toward the shops, but then we turned left onto 69.

“Hey, you took the wrong turn,” I said.

“I know exactly where I’m going,” he replied, completely focused on the road ahead.

“What are you up to?” I asked with a bit of excitement, nervousness, and curiosity all rolled into one ball.

“I told you, we’re going shopping.”

“But this is not… ” was all I could get out before he hushed me.

“Just relax and enjoy the ride!”

We continued to drive out of town and in a direction I had never taken to go shopping. Suddenly, he turned right onto a small dirt path where a gate that had once been closed and secured was now opened, as if expecting our arrival. I gazed over at Kyran, completely mystified by his secrecy. He looked over at me and gave me a sultry grin and stopped the car in the middle of an empty field. As if right on cue, a helicopter came from behind the mountaintop just on the other side of the range and landed about a hundred feet from where we were parked.

“What is going on?” I asked with an alarmed voice.

“You don’t expect to find something for me to wear at the local stores, do you?” he grinned as he got out of the car and quickly ran around to open my door. He held out his hand, and I warily placed mine into his as he pulled me out of the car.

“Come, love, there is no time to waste.”

We quickly ran underneath the heavy wind caused by the loud, whirling blades of the helicopter and dashed into the cab. As soon as the pilot closed the door, he took his place up front and began the procedures for takeoff. Kyran had me put some headphones with a mouth-piece on so we could talk. Stunned by this unexpected escapade, I found myself completely speechless.

Am I dreaming again? I had to ask myself.

Something like this just doesn’t happen in Westcliffe and, more markedly, to me! We were lifted off the ground and flew high into the bright, sunny sky. As I looked down, I could see our ranch with the green metal rooftop on our house. The horses were running around wildly with the concept of being free as they roamed on our twenty-seven acres. We then swooshed over the Sangre de Cristo mountaintops and began making our way to who-knew-where! I was in complete awe from the pure beauty these mountains signified. They were named by a Spanish explorer in the 1700s, who cried out “Blood of Christ” as the sun rose and gave a red tint to the snowy peaks, bringing them alive. Their magnificence and boldness always gave me such a sense of peace, as if they protected us from the rest of the world. And now, I got to see them in a whole new light, as I flew high above these wondrous beauties. I kept my eyes steadfast, looking out the window until we were finally past the splendor that had lain before me.

Then, realizing we were traveling far from home, I came to my senses and said in sheer panic, “Kyran, you have to tell me where we’re going. I can’t just take off in a helicopter and not know where I’m going or not tell my parents. They would freak!”

“I suppose I can tell you now, since there is no way for you to escape! We are going to Denver to visit a favorite store of mine. Since time was of the essence, I had to take our family helicopter so that we would make it back in time. Do you hate me for deceiving you?” he asked so harmlessly, showing off his dimples.

“Well, I guess I could forgive you, this time!” I said a bit snobbishly. “But please, no more surprises like this. Okay?”

“Whatever you say, my lady.”

An odd feeling came over me when he said that. My dad is the only person who has ever called me that or treated me like a princess. Just then, he reached for my hand and held it tightly between both of his. They were extremely warm to the touch, and I felt a tingling sensation move through every cell of my body. I had to look out the window and pretend to be more interested in the sky so that he wouldn’t see me blush. The usually three hour trip to Denver only took us about thirty minutes.

We landed at what seemed to be a private airport, where I noticed a black Mercedes parked nearby. The pilot quickly rushed us from the helicopter and escorted us to the posh vehicle that awaited our arrival. Kyran, being the perfect gentleman that he was, opened the passenger door for me and closed it after seeing I was comfortably settled in. He dashed around to the driver’s seat and placed the already running engine into the drive position. Off we went, speeding down the runway as if we were to lift off. I could see that Kyran had an acquired taste for speed, and I instinctively and quickly put my seatbelt on. He only looked over at me and smiled, probably sensing I was a bit timid with this little adventure and the fact that he was going ninety miles per hour. He took my hand and held it up to his lips. He gave it a gentle kiss with his smooth, soft lips and said, “Don’t worry, amore.”

I should have believed him. I had every reason to, so far. But something inside my head was saying, “Don’t.”

Don’t what? I started to question myself.

Don’t trust him, don’t do this, don’t fall for this amazingly perfect guy, or perhaps don’t miss out on this mind-blowing, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity? Don’t? I didn’t quite understand myself, so I ignored the little voice, picked option “D,” and allowed myself to fall deeply into this fantasy that I found myself in. I relaxed my head on the headrest of the fine leather seat that I was quite comfortable in and looked over at Kyran with a contented smile.

We had now entered the city limits, and I read a sign that said, “Downtown 10 miles.” Our pace was now a little more in my comfort zone, and I patiently waited to see where we were going.

We pulled up to an attractive store that seemed to model all the latest and greatest in fashion in the front windows. Naturally we pulled up to the valet, and the young, blonde boy in a red coat quickly opened my door. He reached out for my hand, and as I placed it into his white glove, I looked into his strangely familiar blue eyes. “Don’t,” was what I thought I heard his cautionary voice say.

“Pardon me?” I asked to be sure.

“Yes,” the young boy replied, looking into my eyes as if to say the answer was “yes.”

“Nothing, never mind, I thought I heard you say something to me.” I answered back shyly.

He shut the door and met up with Kyran at the front of the car. I noticed a harsh glance between the two, both with squinty eyes, completely focused on each other for just an instant, and then the valet attendant swiftly took the keys from him and ran around to the driver’s seat to park the car.

“What was that about?” I asked.

“What?” he asked as if nothing had happened, and it was all my imagination. He placed his arm behind my lower back to help direct me into this stimulating in-vogue store that I had never seen before. We were quickly greeted by a dark-haired woman with perfectly applied makeup and snug clothes that outlined her perfectly proportioned body.

“This way, Mr. Dellamorte,” she said as if this were some routine with him.

I looked over at him, and he simply said, “I told you this was my favorite store!”

We were escorted to the very back and up some stairs where we approached a closed door that said “Private” on it. We entered into a magnificent room with purple velvet drapes lining the walls from floor to ceiling. The lighting was dim, which brought out the flames from several candles that were scattered about, giving off a very pleasing scent. I noticed a podium, much like the preacher’s at our church, resting at one end of the room. We were promptly seated at the other end of the room where several white, cozy chairs were purposely placed.

“Uh, Kyran,” I said, and looked at him, feeling confused and out of place. “What are we doing? I thought I was here to help you find an outfit for your fancy dinner party.”

“You are,” he said softly, as if we were in a library. “You had better pay attention so that you can help me decide what we are going to wear.”

And just then, just as I was about to argue the “we” point, music filled the air, and a bright light shone upon two models that came out of each side of the room. Apparently there were several doors hidden behind the draped walls, which was the perfect setting for a private fashion show. They walked from the front of the room to the back and did their little model turns right in front of us before disappearing once again behind the magical curtains. Huh… so this is how rich people shop.

Two more models came out and followed the same routine as their predecessors.

“Mark and Jean are wearing the perfect evening attire from D&G…” the consultant announced.

I tuned her out and had to ask Kyran what D&G was. He smiled and whispered, “That’s the designer, amore. Haven’t you ever heard of Dolce & Gabbana?”

“Yes… of course,” I whispered back. I was pretty sure I had.

“Next you will be quite pleased with Prada’s latest line in evening wear made for the modern man and woman.”

“Kyran, they all seem to look very nice. I’m sure you could go with any of these and look completely amazing,” I whispered. I honestly didn’t know how much help I could be. After all, my big shopping sprees were usually at the local department stores.

“Surely there was something that sparked your interest,” he replied.

“They are all very nice, really. But… ”

Just then two models came out as the commentator said, “Amber and Jade are wearing a more classic look from Chanel… ”

Yes, that was it. I loved them both. The outfits completely complemented each other. The female model was wearing a beautiful, elegant, classic black dress. As she turned around, I noticed a nice V-line on the back, complemented with a thin, shiny black belt. It looked so elegant.

Kyran must have seen my eyes widen with delight and said, “You love this. I can see it written all over your face.” He gestured to the lady. “Madam, we’ll take the Chanel.”

“Kyran… no, I can’t let you buy this for me. We’re here to get you an outfit. Remember? This is way too much for me, and I probably would never have anywhere to wear it,” I argued.

Before I knew it, the very helpful associate pulled me up from my seat with a tape measure in hand and began taking all of my measurements.

“Think of it as a late birthday present,” Kyran said with a devilish grin across his face.

I looked at him and only sighed. How could I argue with such a beautiful face? He stared at me with an adoring smile as the lady instructed me to turn this way and that way, arms out, back straight, look forward, etc…

“Okay, Mr. Dellamorte, I am finished,” the lady said to Kyran.

“Excuse me, love, as I take care of this,” he said, and with that, he walked away with the sales associate.

While I was waiting, I walked back downstairs and browsed around the store. A beautiful black leather jacket caught my eye, so I sauntered over to the mannequin that seemed to proudly display this beauty. Oh, it felt so soft and smooth. I had never felt leather like that before. Out of curiosity I looked at the price tag.

“Oh my gosh!” I blurted out loud, caught off guard by the outrageous price.

I looked around, embarrassed by the spontaneous outburst. Thankfully no one else seemed to be in the store. $950 for a jacket? They must be crazy, I thought to myself.

I continued to look around some more and continued to be shocked by the overpriced items throughout the very proud store. I couldn’t help but think how many hungry mouths could be fed with all the money that would be spent on these clothes. I guess the humanitarian came out in me, and feeling a bit perturbed, I walked to the front door to wait for Kyran. I noticed the valet attendant standing, waiting for a potential customer to arrive or depart. I watched him with curiosity, trying to figure out if I had possibly met him before. He really didn’t look familiar, other than his noticeable eyes. Maybe I was just going crazy or something. How can someone’s eyes look familiar? He turned toward me and saw that I was staring at him. Mortified at being caught, I quickly hid behind a mannequin, which probably only added to the humiliation. Just then, Kyran walked up.

“Ready, amore?” he asked.

I noticed he didn’t have any bags in his hand.

“Yes, but where are the bags?” I asked, confused.

“They will arrive tomorrow. I’m hungry; how about you?”

Now that he mentioned it, I felt pretty hungry, too. We hadn’t eaten anything since lunch, and I only ate half my lunch at that. I looked at my watch and saw it was almost six o’clock. “Yes,” I answered, “but we only have an hour before youth group starts. Can we just pick something up on the way back to the helicopter?”

He hesitated and appeared to be in deep thought as he escorted me out of the store and noticed the young attendant waiting for us. Kyran flicked the valet ticket at him to get our car. Upon picking the ticket up off the ground, the attendant quickly ran to the parking garage. I thought that was kinda rude of Kyran and considered saying something to him, but bit my tongue.

“Let’s forget about the youth group and continue this wonderful evening we are having,” he implored.

“No, Kyran, I promised my mother I would make it back in time.”

“Do you always do what is expected of you? Don’t you ever do what you want to do and what feels good or fun?”

I wasn’t sure where this was coming from and replied, “Yes and yes. I do what is expected of me because that is what I choose to do. And, of course, I do things that are fun. I came here with you today, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but don’t you want this to continue? You go to youth group every Wednesday. What harm would it be to miss just this once? There is a wonderful, charming restaurant I want to take you to. I know you would love it.”

The Mercedes pulled up in front of us, and before the valet attendant could come around to open my door, Kyran had it open and helped me in. He quickly closed the door as the attendant walked around to my side. They began exchanging words, and I could see anger on Kyran’s face. He seemed to have his chest puffed out and arms cocked back as if he were showing this guy how tough he was. I was about to roll down my window to see what was going on when Kyran walked away and got into the car. We sped off. Kyran was furious at what just occurred, and I wasn’t quite sure what to say.

A couple of minutes passed and he hadn’t spoken either.

“Kyran, what was that all about?”

“Nothing that you should worry about, love. Let’s just say there is a history of bad blood between us. Okay?”

“Oh, okay, sure.”

With each passing minute that ticked away on the lit clock displayed on the dashboard, I began to worry about being late for church. I had to say something, though, so that he would know we needed to get back.

“I hate to be a party pooper here, but I really have to get back home. I can’t… ”

“Of course you can’t, Renee. You can’t just go out with me and have a good time and not worry about anything else, can you?” he snapped.

This was not a side of him that I had seen before, and I was taken aback by his response. I crossed my arms and sat silently as he continued to drive way too fast.

“Slow down, Kyran. You’re scaring me.”

I could see a tense anger in his face, and his usually magical green eyes seemed to have a fiery tint to them that almost glowed in the dusk of evening. My imagination must have somehow been deceiving my eyes since it was humanly impossible to have glowing eyes. He continued to race down the road, weaving in and out of the cars, passing them by as if they were at a standstill.

“Kyran, slow down!” I yelled again, frightened.

I could feel tears uncontrollably dripping down my face. He glanced over at me with a glare in his eyes as if he were in some other world or something.

“Please, Kyran,” I said softly, almost in a whisper, “you’re gonna hurt someone.”

I then reached over with a shaking hand to touch his shoulder in an effort to grab his attention, not knowing how he might react to my attempt. His face quickly jerked to the right, and his narrow, gleaming eyes looked into mine. His trance-like state seemed to instantaneously shatter, and he began to slow down. The relentless apologizing quickly followed.

“Renee, I am so sorry. Really, I am. I didn’t mean to frighten you. Forgive me, please,” he begged.

“Just get me home,” I stated firmly.

“Renee, plea… ” he began to beg again.

“Just get me home,” I demanded.

The helicopter ride back home wasn’t quite as exhilarating as the ride up there had been. As Kyran drove me back to school where my car was still parked, not a single word between us was spoken. What started out as the most exciting adventure of my life ended with doubt and confusion. The joy had been stripped away by his dreadful actions caused by the anger he harbored. All I could think about as he was speeding down the road like a madman was that we were going to either kill someone or be killed. The thought of it all made me sick.

When we finally pulled up to my car, I got out and ran toward it, anxious to get away from the guy I thought was everything I had been wanting in a boyfriend. I nervously dug for my keys in my purse, but couldn’t find them. Kyran walked up behind me.

“Please, don’t be mad at me. You don’t understand.”

“No, I don’t understand, and maybe I don’t want to. I clearly see you are not the guy I thought you were. Just leave me alone.” I started to cry again. “Where are they?” I continued looking for my keys.

“Please, you don’t need to drive right now. You are clearly still upset.”

“Oh, you’re a fine one to talk,” I retorted.

He chuckled with a slight grin and confessed, “You have a good point. I let my emotions get the best of me. Please don’t act crazy like I did. Calm down for a minute, okay?”

Then he deviously held out my keys with one finger and said, “Promise me you’ll calm down, or I won’t give you these!”

I tried to snatch them from his hands, but he held on to them tightly, putting his hand behind his back.

“Uh-uh-uh,” he said, moving the index finger of his free hand left to right, as if I were some child.

“Give them to me!” I said, standing my ground.

“Has anyone told you just how beautiful you are when you’re mad?” he replied, still holding them behind his back as if this were a game.

After a few minutes of struggling and losing the battle to gain my keys, I gave up. I leaned back against my car and sarcastically stated, “Okay, I’m calm. Now can I have them?”

“I didn’t hear ‘please!’” he said smugly.

I rolled my eyes and complied, figuring it was the quickest way for me to be on my way to church.

“Please, can I have my keys?” I edgily asked while holding out my hand, giving into his request.

He immediately grabbed my suspended hand and intertwined his fingers with mine.

“Only if you can forgive me for acting so foolish. I didn’t mean to hurt you in any way,” he said so genuinely.

My eyes met up with his, the beautiful green eyes I was accustomed to, and I wondered how I could not forgive him. I mean, we all have our bad days, right? And who knows what that guy said or did to him. There really could be a long history with that guy that I didn’t know about. I believed in second chances, so I had only one choice to make.

“Okay, Kyran, I forgive you. Now I really have to go, honestly. I don’t want to be late.”

He then put an arm on each side of me as if he had been planning that very move all along; with hands against my car he gently pressed his moist lips to mine. I stood absolutely still like a deer, aware of its potential hunter, and felt completely caught off guard by his bewildering, yet loving gesture. His lips felt so tender and smooth. As our mouths slightly parted, I inhaled his warm, minty breath, which he released simultaneously. I could feel my heart pounding through my chest. And though the intimate moment lasted a mere few seconds, I knew in that brief period that this little girl was starting to become a woman. An unexpected feeling of being broken came to me, reminiscent of a minuscule crack in fine china, hardly noticeable to the eye, but an awareness and sign of being damaged. I was consumed with mixed emotions and unsure of how to act or what to say. Kyran released my anxiety by breaking the silence first.

“Baciato da un santo,” he whispered into my ear. “See you tomorrow, la mia amore,” and opened my door for me to get in, carefully placing my keys into my hands.

“Uh, Kyran,” I said softly in my trance-like state. “May I ask what you just said to me?”

With a contented smile he said, “Kissed by a saint.” Then he gently closed my door and walked away.