Aidan: The Rescue Chapter One

If there was one thing that never got old for Aidan Radcliffe, it was watching criminals’ shocked faces while masked individuals in all-black outfits interrupted their crime. During these surprise operations by the Indie Rebels, some goons surrendered without a fight. Others, like this idiot who’d been in the process of robbing his elderly victim for the fourth time, tried to run.

Justin Shapiro, the Indie Rebel initiate Aidan had been training, caught the perp and cuffed him without a problem even though the man was bigger than Justin and had put up a struggle.

“Fucking IRs,” the crook hissed. “How did you know I was here?”

Aidan smirked. While the guy tried to look tough, he heard the fear in his voice.

This was the end for this serial armed robber who’d been eluding the police. His luck had run out, and the Sydneysiders he’d been victimising, including Justin’s grandfather, could feel safe again in their own homes.

“Thank you so much,” Justin’s grandfather said, his eyes wide. “My name’s Glenn. I’m so happy to see you.”

“You’re welcome,” Aidan answered. “This guy here is a wanted man. We’ll tie him up real well and leave him in your yard for the police to pick up. Is that okay with you?”

Glenn nodded. “I’ve read about you, and I know you can’t stay. But I’ll make sure I tell the police it’s the Indie Rebels who saved me from this guy, even though they probably won’t be happy to hear that.”

“No,” Aidan said with a chuckle. “They prefer to do the catching themselves.”

“Have you been following him?” Glenn gestured to their prisoner. “Is that why I’m lucky enough that the two of you turned up at the right time tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Take their masks off, old man,” the thug taunted. “Be the hero and find out who these fucking IRs are.”

Glenn threw him a derisive glance.

“Let’s take care of him so you can call the police,” Aidan said.

Glenn nodded.

Aidan and Justin made quick work of binding the robber’s arms and legs and put duct tape across his mouth. Then, they half-carried, half-dragged him to the yard before waving goodbye to Glenn. They hurried back to a black IR-owned sedan that Justin had parked in a darkened alleyway.

“Thanks, Aidan,” Justin said. “I’m so relieved my granddad is now safe from that fucker.”

Aidan patted his student on the back. “You did very well. And your granddad had absolutely no idea it was you. Keep it that way, okay?”

Justin nodded. “Can I drive you somewhere?”

“No, I’m fine. My car’s around the corner. I’m gonna go back to my friend’s party.”

“Sorry I had to ruin your night. As soon as I saw that idiot turn onto Granddad’s street, I had to call you for assistance. I didn’t think you’d come yourself. I thought you’d send someone else.”

“Not a problem,” Aidan said with a chuckle. “I was close enough. Plus, it was a great time for me to watch you in action. You’re progressing well with your training.”

“Glad you think so. Thanks again. And I’ll wait for your call regarding any new assignment you want to give me.”

“Sure. Enjoy the rest of your weekend.”

“You, too.”

Aidan watched Justin drive away before returning to his car. He got into the back and took off his mask. Then, he changed to the smart casual clothes he’d been wearing at the birthday party. Aidan checked the alley to ensure it was empty before moving to the front and driving away.

Luckily, he hadn’t needed to explain to Isla Morgan, the birthday girl, and the other IRs celebrating with her as to why he’d had to leave the party abruptly. They knew that, as a senior agent and team leader, he was always on call.

He might be quizzed by the non-IR guests about his disappearance, though. But he’d already asked Isla to give the excuse that a relative from overseas, currently staying with him, had locked himself out of the house.

Was Felicity wondering if he was coming back to the party?

Aidan scoffed. He should stop thinking of Isla’s best friend already. Felicity Sebastian wasn’t an Indie Rebel. He couldn’t date her.

Damn. What a pity that was, because Felicity also found him attractive. She’d been so cute, tentatively flirting with him, clearly not wanting to be obvious. Still, Felicity hadn’t seemed able to stop herself from glancing at him constantly.

“So what? You can’t flirt back,” he muttered with a sigh.

Felicity intrigued him so much, having heard a lot about her through Isla. By all accounts, Felicity was a passionate person who made it her mission to help domestic violence victims gain confidence and find their self-worth though the New Again furniture revamping workshops that she ran once a week. She did so much for those women, knowing firsthand what they were going through.

Thankfully, Felicity’s abusive ex-boyfriend was now serving time in jail for breaching an apprehended violence order as well as arson for torching Felicity’s car. With the way Felicity had picked herself up and helped others since that time, Aidan understood why Isla was so proud of her.

Aidan had always loved meeting inspiring people, and he’d wanted to meet Felicity since hearing about her. Actually, he’d wanted to meet her since he’d laid eyes on a photo Isla had shown him months ago.

Today, it had happened. And she was more beautiful in person.

Thank God he was good at hiding his interest towards women who could not, under any circumstances, know about his secret identity as an Indie Rebel. Yes, it was always disappointing when he had to pretend he wasn’t keen. But he of all people understood the risks in breaking the IRs’ number one rule: that only an Indie Rebel could know the identity of another Indie Rebel. It was, and would always be, a matter of life and death if they broke it. With every criminal organisation trying to hunt down Indie Rebels, and with the police considering them an unneeded, unwanted vigilante group, Rule Number One was their biggest and most important protection.

He had to admit, though, that he found Felicity more captivating than any other girl who’d caught his attention. Not that that made any difference. His resolve to not date non-IRs was stronger than his attraction to Felicity.

Right?

Right! Of course! How could he even think of questioning that?

Shaking his head, he turned on the radio and drove back to Isla and Kallan’s house.

Soon, he was walking towards the couple’s front door. Isla’s surprise party, which had started at lunchtime, appeared to still be in full swing late into the night.

Great! He’d been having a wonderful time before he’d received the call from Justin. Hopefully, he wouldn’t get any other urgent messages from anyone.

He rang the doorbell, ready to rejoin the celebrations.

Kallan Keegan opened the door. “Hey, you’re back! Everything okay?”

“Yup. It all went smoothly. What did I miss?”

“More partying,” Kallan said with a laugh, clapping a hand on his shoulder to lead him back inside. “I thought it was winding down when I proposed to Isla. We’re glad that everyone’s happy to keep celebrating.”

Aidan chuckled as he followed Kallan to the open-plan living area at the back.

His breath hitched. Ah, there was Felicity. The short-haired brunette with the loveliest hazel eyes was carrying a tray of sliced birthday cake. God, she was so stunning that he found himself stopping to watch her offer the dessert to the guests.

As she got closer, Felicity spotted him—and seemed to trip on something.

Aidan’s eyes widened as time seemed to go in slow motion before speeding up again. There was no way he could stop what was about to happen, so he braced himself, holding up his arms to try to prevent Felicity from crashing into him.

Felicity tried valiantly to regain her balance. Probably realising she’d hit him with the tray or, perhaps, desperate to arrest her momentum, she dropped her load. Dessert plates broke, forks clanged, and pieces of cake splattered on the hardwood floor. Despite her efforts, Felicity still ended up with her face planted right on Aidan’s chest.

Heat travelled throughout Aidan’s body as he helped Felicity to her feet.

Red-faced, Felicity looked at him. “I’m so sorry.”

“No worries,” he said, keeping a hand on her arm. “You okay?”

Felicity gulped audibly, nodding.

Isla rushed over to them. “Are you okay, Fel?” she asked as other guests swarmed in, also expressing concern.

“I’m okay, everyone. Thank you. Did anyone get cake on them?”

There was a chorus of no.

Felicity stared in dismay at the mess on the floor. Turning to Isla, she said, “Just when your party’s almost over, I had to go and create a ruckus. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Isla said, sweeping her gaze over her friend from head to foot. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. I just…” Felicity shrugged.

Aidan suppressed a smile. He could swear that Felicity had tripped because she’d caught him looking at her.

Argh, such a damned shame that he couldn’t let Felicity think he could be a potential boyfriend, especially when every cell in his body responded to this woman’s close proximity. Even his heartbeat refused to slow down.

“I’ll get a broom,” Felicity murmured, stepping away from him.

Isla shook her head. “It’s okay. My darling fiancé’s already on top of it. See? Thank you, honey,” she said to Kallan, who’d been quick to grab a broom and a dustpan.

Kallan sent Felicity a curious glance. “You okay, Fel? What did you trip on?”

Felicity let out an embarrassed laugh as she walked towards the mess. “My own feet, I guess. Let me help. Aunt Nadine, I’ll take that,” she said to Isla’s mother, who was holding a rag.

“I got this,” Nadine said.

But Felicity was quick to snatch the cloth away from Nadine. “I’ll do it.”

“Okay,” Nadine said with a sigh.

Aidan crossed his arms, unable to keep from watching Felicity as she helped Kallan clean the floor.

“Don’t tell her I told you she finds you hot,” Isla whispered. “She’ll kill me.”

“No, of course I won’t tell her,” he promised.

“She’d be mortified that she tripped when she saw you looking at her.”

Aidan glanced at Isla. “You were watching?”

“I just happened to notice you staring at her. Why, by the way, when you told me earlier you’re not interested?” Isla asked teasingly.

“Don’t push it,” he said in a warning tone.

“I won’t. I already told her you’re not boyfriend material. You’re married to your job as an IT consultant—just like Kerrod. She understands what that means because she knows my dear future brother-in-law quite well,” Isla said with a laugh. “So, basically, I made her think you’re an anti-commitment guy who’s only into casual relationships and one-night stands.”

“Why, thanks,” he said dryly.

“Sorry, but I had to give her an explanation that would turn her off after you guys kept exchanging looks. For the record, Aidan, Fel doesn’t do casual. And don’t give me the crap about not being interested in her. Why lie to me when I know this is all about you being an IR? I’m with you about not dating her. It’s definitely not a good idea.”

He sighed. “Yeah.”

“You know, I’ve thought about asking you to put in a good word to the chiefs about letting Fel know that Kallan and I are IRs, but I changed my mind. She’s such a worrywart that she’d worry about us morning, noon, and night.”

Aidan nodded. As Indie Rebels, they certainly didn’t live a quiet life. Sometimes he wondered why he continued to put himself in danger working for a covert, crime-fighting group, especially one unsanctioned by authorities.

But that thought didn’t occur to him very often. Being an Indie Rebel gave him a purpose in life, and he was great at being one.

Kallan glanced their way as he finished sweeping the floor, and Aidan didn’t miss the loving smile he sent to Isla.

Aidan’s lips curved up. For whatever reason, he always ended up mentoring IR initiates who fell in love with women connected to the cases they worked on, with those women eventually becoming Indie Rebels themselves. Lucky dudes. Apart from Kallan, there were three other guys right here in Isla’s party fortunate enough to have had the loves of their lives also join the IRs. He scanned the room until his gaze landed on Xavier with Eve, then Jaxon with Holly, and Bryce with Emma. Yes, they’d met their respective partners in dangerous situations, but Aidan had never seen happier, more in-love couples than these people. He guessed that having to depend upon each other for their safety, and watching each others’ backs during assignments, served to strengthen their relationships.

He hadn’t had the same luck. None of the women he’d been interested in—and now he had to add Felicity to the count—had had a need for the Indie Rebels and couldn’t possibly had been initiated into the group. He couldn’t help but feel just a little envious.

“So,” Isla said, “you’ve said before that you became an IR when you were only fifteen. I assume, then, that you’ve never dated a non-IR?”

“I have. Twice.”

“Really? Were they serious?”

“I was young and stupid.” He didn’t bother to tell Isla that in his twenty years of being an Indie Rebel, those were the only two times he’d been in love.

“When did the second one end?”

“Over six years ago.”

“Right. So you’ve only been dating IRs since then?”

“No. To be honest, I haven’t met an IR who interests me. More to the point, there are hardly any female IRs who are still single.”

Isla’s brows rose. “So you haven’t dated anyone in six years?”

“Define dating.”

Isla laughed. “So, I was actually right when I told Fel you’re a one-night stand man. I didn’t exactly lie to her, did I?”

Aidan snickered. He wasn’t prepared to share any more details of his pathetic dating life with Isla right now. Most of all, he didn’t want this perceptive woman to discover how empty he’d felt from watching the likes of her and Kallan fall for each other and grow more in love as days passed.

“If I’d known you’d be interrogating me,” he said dryly, “I wouldn’t have picked this day to tell you that you and Kallan have passed initiation. Then, I wouldn’t have been here today, because I still wouldn’t have been able to show my face to you. Can’t be attending a party with my mask on.” Truthfully, though, revealing what he looked like to the graduates always gave him a thrill. He invariably got very close to all the initiates he mentored. He considered them friends—family, actually—well before they were allowed to discover what he looked like.

Isla gave him a hug. “Aw, did I push a button? Sorry. You know that after over a year of us working closely together, I’m so thrilled that we can now see you without a mask on and wearing something else than our all-black outfit. You couldn’t have given me a better birthday present. Plus, I now see how good-looking you are. No wonder Fel’s so smitten.”

“But she’s not an IR,” he said with a wry chuckle, reminding Isla and himself of the unfortunate situation.

“Well, I’m sure there’s a single IR who’ll eventually take your fancy. It’s a pity it won’t be my best friend.”

Aidan sighed. Yes, it was a pity.

His phone rang with an incoming call, and he fished it out of his trousers pocket. Chief 2, the screen said.

“Hope that’s nothing serious,” Isla said. “If you need any of us here, let me know.”

“Thanks. But I won’t be asking you and Kallan to do anything tonight, that’s for sure.” As he walked towards the front door to take the call outside, he passed Felicity.

She smiled at him shyly, embarrassment still written all over her face.

He wanted to stop and say something witty and funny to make her feel better, but the phone buzzing in his hand didn’t give him a choice. He grinned at her instead, winking playfully.

Oops. He probably shouldn’t have winked. Last thing he wanted was to get Felicity’s hopes up. Bad Aidan.

He stepped outside into a balmy Sydney summer night—perfect January weather—and answered his phone. “Hi, Claude,” he said to the IR chief to whom he reported directly.

“Aidan, I’m sorry that I’m calling straight after you just helped Justin. I know you’re still partying with the others.”

“No problem at all. I’m assuming this is an urgent matter.”

“Not really. In fact, we don’t have enough to go on at this point. But it’s important for you to know about it.”

Aidan frowned. “Yes?”

“Someone sent a message through our website saying they have their eye on our highest-ranking chief—that they’re hoping that this chief would die soon from natural causes. If that doesn’t happen in the time frame they want, they’ll make sure it happens, anyway.”

Fear gripped Aidan’s chest. “Maricar. Where is she now? Is she okay?”

“She’s fine. She’s still at her Bowral estate with her nurses and cook. Hugo is on his way there, too. He’ll stay with the women while this threat is active.”

Aidan felt relieved. Those people with Maricar were all trained IRs. What was more, Maricar’s country estate was very secure. He didn’t have to ask to know that agents were now monitoring the numerous security cameras that dotted the property. At the first sign of intruders, agents living nearby could be quickly dispatched. “Okay. I better head home to help man the cameras.”

“No,” Claude said authoritatively. “Maricar told me herself not to allow you to do that tonight. She wants you to enjoy yourself at Isla’s party.”

Aidan let out a heavy breath, knowing there was no point in arguing. But he couldn’t help his concern. Apart from being his most influential teacher and mentor, seventy-year-old Maricar Parlan was like a mother to him. She’d been his legal guardian after his parents had been killed whilst on an IR assignment when he was only fifteen.

“Do we know who sent the message?” he asked.

“We’re still working on that. They covered their tracks well, but our guys will find out who they are eventually. In the meantime, we’re ensuring Maricar is the safest she can be.”

“Right.” Aidan allowed himself to relax. He trusted the IRs. He had no doubts that Maricar was, indeed, the safest she could be.

“That’s all,” Claude said. “I just didn’t want you to find out about this later tonight or tomorrow and get annoyed that we didn’t inform you straight away. But, like I said, there’s nothing for you to do right now. Our guys are watching the cameras on Maricar’s property like hawks.”

“Okay. Thanks, Claude. I do appreciate you telling me straight away.”

“No worries. Party going well?”

“Yeah,” he said with a laugh. “It’s going longer than expected, too, as Kallan and Isla got engaged.”

“Really? That’s great. I’ll personally congratulate them when we organise a graduation dinner for them.”

“Cool. They’d love that.”

“All right. You enjoy the rest of the night.”

“Thanks, Claude. Goodnight.”

“‘Night.”

Aidan hung up. As he glanced at his phone screen, he saw a text message he hadn’t read yet. It was from Trish, his ex from over six years ago—his second and last serious girlfriend. 

He opened it, and his brows rose. Trish was thanking him for sending her boxes of porcelain dolls to her cousin for safekeeping. It had been at least four years since he’d given those boxes to Trish’s cousin. She’d only found that out now?

He started to text a reply, then changed his mind. It was late. He’d respond to her tomorrow instead.

To his surprise, his phone started ringing. He answered, “Hello, Trish.”

“Hi, Aidan!” Trish said enthusiastically. “I had the phone in my hand to send you another message, and I noticed those text bubbles that indicated you were writing me one. So I decided to call you. I knew you’d still be up. You’ve always been a night owl. Anyway, how are you?”

“I’m good. How are you? I didn’t expect to hear from you after all this time.”

“I know! Well, I got back my dolls. Thanks so much. I honestly thought you’d thrown them all out.”

Aidan chuckled. When Trish had left him for Sandro six and a half years ago, she hadn’t taken her three big boxes of porcelain dolls to New Zealand, where Sandro lived. The freight costs had been prohibitive.

Out of guilt and grief, he’d kept them for a while. After all, he’d been mainly responsible for their relationship’s failure. He’d always disappeared to work on IR cases and never told Trish where he’d gone.

“I was tempted to throw them away,” he admitted. “But I know how much they cost you, so I handed them over to your cousin for safekeeping. That was over four years ago now. Didn’t she tell you?”

“No! She thought that mentioning it might bring up unwanted feelings for me. But we just came back to Sydney the other day, and she asked me to pick up the boxes from her today. I was so surprised. Thank you again for not getting rid of them.”

“No worries. So you’re back here for a visit?”

“No. Sandro got a transfer, so we’re back to stay. We both missed Australia so much. But I need to find a new job.”

“Okay. Good luck with that.”

“Thanks. So how’ve you been?”

“I’ve been well, thank you.” He didn’t know what else to say, which had been one of the problems in their relationship. He couldn’t share anything about his IR work.

The silence lengthened, and Trish cleared her throat. “Um, I better let you go.”

“Okay. You take care.”

“You, too. Bye, Aidan.”

“Bye.”

He hung up, shrugging. Funny how effectively time had healed that wound. He felt nothing but a little friendly caring for Trish now. In fact, the pain attached from the lesson he’d learnt from their two-year relationship was much stronger than the memory of his feelings for her. He guessed it was because things with Trish were well and truly over, whilst the lesson was ongoing.

Dating a non-IR didn’t work. At all.

He’d initially learnt that difficult truth with Priscilla, his first serious girlfriend. He’d been a young twenty-one-year-old when he’d fallen for her. Despite orders and warnings from the chiefs not to reveal their identities to non-Indie Rebels, he’d told Priscilla this secret on their one-year anniversary. Trusting Priscilla implicitly, he’d thought he was doing the right thing for their relationship.

But Priscilla had mentioned something to someone because, somehow, a crime lord had gotten wind of the fact that she had information regarding an Indie Rebel. Priscilla had been kidnapped. When IRs had stormed the place where she’d been kept, one of the goons had shot her before they’d tried to escape.

Priscilla had died in his arms, but not before swearing to him on her last breath that she’d never told anyone that Aidan was the IR she’d known. While she’d made the mistake of saying something vague to a friend of hers, she’d died keeping his secret.

Aidan blinked rapidly, taking a deep breath. That was why he emphasised to initiates how incredibly important it was to never, ever reveal their IR identities to those outside of their group. People could slip up accidentally even with the best of intentions.

He pushed the bad memories back into their box. Over the years, he’d learnt that the best way to live his life was to always focus on the lessons without letting the negative feelings swamp him. To date, that had served him well.

He gave himself a relaxing shake. He was supposed to be having fun tonight, not remembering painful memories.

He went back inside the house and locked the door before rejoining the party. For some reason, despite the numerous guests in attendance, his gaze immediately landed on Felicity, who sent him a smile before continuing to talk to Kallan’s twin, Kerrod.

Had she been waiting for him to come back, or had she just happened to glance at the door as he’d come in?

He smirked. Why, oh why, couldn’t he meet IR agents he wanted to date? Why was he always attracted to women he couldn’t tell his most important secrets to?

And why on earth couldn’t he help but feel jealous that Felicity was laughing heartily at something Kerrod was saying?

Don’t go there, idiot. Just don’t go there.

**END OF CHAPTER ONE***

Aidan: The Rescue releases on the 24th of September, 2020 and can be bought from the following stores:

Amazon | Apple iBooks | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

(Link to Google Play will be available on release day.)