Five Days Grace Read Online Free
Author: TERESA HILL
which Aidan gingerly lowered to the floor by the door.
Tink whined and danced around on wet, muddy feet, while Aidan toed off his heavy boots, shrugged out of his wet jacket and hung it on a hook on the back of the door.
Outside, the storm was even louder—cracks of lightning, the rolling boom of thunder, pounding rain sounding like hell on the cabin's tin roof.
And then, just before he was about to flick on the light, out of the corner of his eye, Aidan saw something out of place.
No, he realized, a lot of things out of place.
He froze, stared, taking it all in, slowly panned right until he could see the whole room, a small, rustic, combination living room/kitchen.
Someone had ransacked the place, quickly, sloppily.
Aidan reached above the cabinet to his right, where he'd stashed a loaded Sig Sauer in a small case that had a combination lock. He keyed the numbers in without needing to look, telling himself to breathe, to remember both that he was still a little revved up by the accident and that he wasn't in a war zone anymore. Moving silently, he took the gun out and clicked off the safety, taking aim on the doorway that led to two bedrooms and a small bathroom at the back of the cabin.
The cabin door had a lock, a totally ineffective one, but Aidan used it anyway, every time he left. He'd put the key in the lock when he'd returned a moment ago, had turned the key, but had the lock already been disengaged? He couldn't remember. He'd been juggling dog food and dog, and there'd been lightning, rain and incessant dog noises.
So he wasn't really sure if the door had been unlocked or not, but he still had a little, niggling feeling in the back of his head that someone else was here, and no one was supposed to be.
Only four other people even knew where he was: his shrink, his commanding officer, his brother and the guy who'd loaned him the cabin. None of them would just drop by or let themselves in, except for Zach, but surely the man wouldn't tear his own cabin apart.
Burglar? Aidan had a hard time thinking so. The place didn't look like much from the outside. It was okay on the inside, but certainly nothing fancy. Surely a robber could find more promising places to rob.
More likely, it was someone who was hungry and just looking to get out of the rain, maybe stay a while, probably not cause any trouble. So it was highly unlikely he'd need the Sig, but he'd been shot before, and he wasn't going to take chances on being gunned down in a tiny town in southwestern Ohio.
Of course, it was possible that someone had come looking for him, someone who wanted to hurt him, but he really didn't think so. A threat had been made against him, but he'd been sure his CO had made more of it than was warranted to get Aidan out of the hospital before he really went nuts.
Still, he'd nearly died three and a half months ago, and wasn't yet a hundred percent recovered, so he wasn't interested in a fight of any kind or taking any chances.
He eased around the corner to press his back against the wall that led to the bedrooms and bathroom. As small as the place was, it couldn't take long for even the sloppiest, most amateur thief to toss it, and there was only one exit. When he walked back into this room, Aidan would have a gun pressed against the guy's back before he knew what was happening.
Minutes ticked by, the dog whining and dancing around, making the biggest damned mess on the floor, and sometimes, over the noise of the storm, Aidan thought he might have heard someone else crying, too.
Finally, he heard footsteps.
A shadow appeared, halting a step inside the room and staring at the dog. For once, the damned thing proved useful.
Aidan stepped to the left, pressed the gun to the shadow's back and hooked an elbow across the guy's throat. "Don't move."
Chapter 2
He barely got the words out before he heard a scream, a distinctly feminine scream. If that weren't enough to convince him that his would-be thief was
Tink whined and danced around on wet, muddy feet, while Aidan toed off his heavy boots, shrugged out of his wet jacket and hung it on a hook on the back of the door.
Outside, the storm was even louder—cracks of lightning, the rolling boom of thunder, pounding rain sounding like hell on the cabin's tin roof.
And then, just before he was about to flick on the light, out of the corner of his eye, Aidan saw something out of place.
No, he realized, a lot of things out of place.
He froze, stared, taking it all in, slowly panned right until he could see the whole room, a small, rustic, combination living room/kitchen.
Someone had ransacked the place, quickly, sloppily.
Aidan reached above the cabinet to his right, where he'd stashed a loaded Sig Sauer in a small case that had a combination lock. He keyed the numbers in without needing to look, telling himself to breathe, to remember both that he was still a little revved up by the accident and that he wasn't in a war zone anymore. Moving silently, he took the gun out and clicked off the safety, taking aim on the doorway that led to two bedrooms and a small bathroom at the back of the cabin.
The cabin door had a lock, a totally ineffective one, but Aidan used it anyway, every time he left. He'd put the key in the lock when he'd returned a moment ago, had turned the key, but had the lock already been disengaged? He couldn't remember. He'd been juggling dog food and dog, and there'd been lightning, rain and incessant dog noises.
So he wasn't really sure if the door had been unlocked or not, but he still had a little, niggling feeling in the back of his head that someone else was here, and no one was supposed to be.
Only four other people even knew where he was: his shrink, his commanding officer, his brother and the guy who'd loaned him the cabin. None of them would just drop by or let themselves in, except for Zach, but surely the man wouldn't tear his own cabin apart.
Burglar? Aidan had a hard time thinking so. The place didn't look like much from the outside. It was okay on the inside, but certainly nothing fancy. Surely a robber could find more promising places to rob.
More likely, it was someone who was hungry and just looking to get out of the rain, maybe stay a while, probably not cause any trouble. So it was highly unlikely he'd need the Sig, but he'd been shot before, and he wasn't going to take chances on being gunned down in a tiny town in southwestern Ohio.
Of course, it was possible that someone had come looking for him, someone who wanted to hurt him, but he really didn't think so. A threat had been made against him, but he'd been sure his CO had made more of it than was warranted to get Aidan out of the hospital before he really went nuts.
Still, he'd nearly died three and a half months ago, and wasn't yet a hundred percent recovered, so he wasn't interested in a fight of any kind or taking any chances.
He eased around the corner to press his back against the wall that led to the bedrooms and bathroom. As small as the place was, it couldn't take long for even the sloppiest, most amateur thief to toss it, and there was only one exit. When he walked back into this room, Aidan would have a gun pressed against the guy's back before he knew what was happening.
Minutes ticked by, the dog whining and dancing around, making the biggest damned mess on the floor, and sometimes, over the noise of the storm, Aidan thought he might have heard someone else crying, too.
Finally, he heard footsteps.
A shadow appeared, halting a step inside the room and staring at the dog. For once, the damned thing proved useful.
Aidan stepped to the left, pressed the gun to the shadow's back and hooked an elbow across the guy's throat. "Don't move."
Chapter 2
He barely got the words out before he heard a scream, a distinctly feminine scream. If that weren't enough to convince him that his would-be thief was
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