Free RunningScaredBN by Christy Reece Page A

your back, partner.”
    “Back at you,” Sabrina said.
    “One, two, three.”
    Aidan stepped out from behind the bushes and eased up to the porch. The first three steps were silent, the fourth gave an annoying squeak. The sleeping man opened his eyes.  
    Flying at the man on the porch, Aidan tackled him before the guy could go for his gun. They grappled all over the porch, grunts and curses filling the air. Aidan finally pinned the bastard, face down. Bending his arm behind his back, he put just the right amount of pressure to give him a taste of what a broken arm might feel like. The guy grunted. He’d most likely be yelling if it weren’t for the fact that his mouth was pressed down against wood.
    “I’m going to let you raise your head just a bit so you can talk. You try to yell for your friends, I’ll rip your arm from your shoulder. You got that, asshole?”
    When the guy continued to struggle, Aidan repeated his threat in Italian. The man gave a frantic nod of understanding.
    Easing the pressure a bit on his head, he heard the guy release a loud puff of air and groan again.
    Continuing in Italian, Aidan said in a low tone, “So far, so good. Now tell me how many men are inside.”
    “It’s just me. I swear.”
    “Wrong answer, asshole.” Lifting the guy’s head up by his hair, Aidan slammed his face into the porch. He pulled a zip tie from his pocket, secured the unconscious man’s hands and feet. For extra insurance, he slapped a wide swath of duct tape over his mouth and then rolled him off the porch into the bushes. “That’ll teach you to tell lies.”
    Getting to his feet, he peered into the window and saw nothing other than some comfortable furniture and a number of grisly animal heads adorning the walls. Guy was not only a criminal, but he had shitty decorating taste, too.
    He eased the door open and stepped inside. Noises in the back of the house told him his partner had struck. Aidan glanced around, again saw no one. He headed toward the kitchen to lend a hand. The cold steel of a gun pressed against his temple.
    “Who are you?”  
    “No one,” Aidan said.
    “Well Mr. No One, you’ve landed in the wrong place.” He pushed Aidan toward the kitchen. Since it was exactly where he wanted to go, he didn’t fight him. Yet.
    The ruckus Sabrina was causing registered in their hearing at the same time. The man ground the pistol against Aidan’s head again and said, “Who else is with you?”
    “My girlfriend. We’re just looking for a place to get it on. You know…have sex. I got horny…and well, you know how it is, amico.” Aidan wiggled his eyebrows for effect.  
    Guy wasn’t buying it. “Let’s go.”
    They moved forward again. One of the men in the kitchen bellowed, startling Aidan’s captor. Aidan took his opportunity. Bending and turning, he slammed his left forearm into the hand holding the gun, as his right fist smashed into the man’s face. As if he didn’t know, or didn’t care, that his nose was a bloody mess, the guy let out a low roar and jabbed his fist into Aidan’s gut. Aidan saw it coming and deflected the hit to his face. The bracing pain only pissed him off.
    Shoving the man up against the wall, Aidan grabbed him by the neck and squeezed with just the right amount of pressure. The guy went limp, and Aidan helped him to the floor.
    Turning, he saw that his partner had subdued the other two men into unconsciousness. Their eyes met. They grinned their triumph at each other and then headed upstairs.
    ***
    Riley and Justin sat in tense silence, listening as the rescue went down. She couldn’t tell how many men Sabrina and Aidan had confronted so far. What amazed her was the stealth and quietness. Other than a few grunts and one bellow that had been cut off almost before it sounded, they’d managed to secure the ground floor.  
    Now the only sounds were the operatives’ quiet breaths as they moved to the second floor. Having worked with them on numerous ops,