Renegade (Elite Ops 5) Read Free

but ordered her to meet him.
    Why her youngest brother couldn't manage to keep his own ride running she
    hadn't figured out yet. He was always tinkering with this, tinkering with that, and it never failed that he called her when he managed to tinker it into complete auto failure.
    One of these days she was going to do as she threatened and get the family
    together for a mechanical intervention where her brother was concerned. He was going to have to learn to keep his hands off his vehicle's guts. If something wasn't truly broken, then there was no need to fix it, right?
    Pulling into the muddy mess at the front of the unfinished building, Mikayla blew
    out a hard breath.
    Mr. Unreliable had struck again. As usual, he wasn't where he was supposed to be
    or doing what he was supposed to be doing.
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    In this case, waiting for her to pick him up.
    So where was he? Where was anyone? The place was utterly deserted.
    Turning down the lush, wild strains of Barry White on the CD player, Mikayla
    tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. Pursing her lips, she stared around the muddy mess of the job site, eyes narrowed against the dim light as she searched for her brother.
    Her lips thinned as she mentally counted to ten.
    She wouldn't get upset, she told herself. Her day had been too good to let this ruin it. She'd just finished two of the most gorgeous wedding gowns she had ever created and the last bridesmaid's dress. Rows upon rows of seed pearls, yards of satin, silk, and lace, and miles of tucks to go along with the hefty payment she had received.
    Two months of sewing delicate rows of tiny pearls and witnessing the tearful
    smiles of two brides who would treasure those dresses for the rest of their lives.
    She sent up a little prayer that those dresses would be treasured through a lifetime of wedded bliss.
    Now, where was her brother?
    She wanted to get home, pour a glass of wine, and relax in her new hot tub just
    long enough to ease the tension that still hadn't worked its way out of her body. She had meetings tomorrow with several brides, a groom, and four society princesses looking for the perfect dress to wear to the perfect party.
    She grinned at the thought. The women scheduled to go through the dozens of
    books filled with ball gowns, slinky satiny gowns, and silky clouds of perfect creations tailored to bring a gasp to the most jaded lips would bring a much-needed boon to the shop.
    The financial crisis hitting the world at the moment hadn't seemed to affect the
    sale of dresses, gowns, and various accessories that were "must-haves" for the well-put-together society princess.
    Mikayla checked her watch, tapped her fingers on the steering wheel again, and
    blew out an irritated breath.
    Scotty better hope he didn't need her to ever pick him up again. This was it. She
    had been sitting here for ten minutes already. Where was he?
    Turning the CD off, she opened the door to the Jeep and stepped out of the
    vehicle.
    Her nose wrinkled at the smell of oil, mud, and what she swore was sweaty men.
    What was it about construction sites? Every time she had been forced to come out after her brother she swore the place smelled like guy BO.
    This was the last time she would allow herself to be guilted into this. Scotty was going to have to get himself a girlfriend or something. Someone willing to make this drive and go searching for him, again, because he needed a ride.
    The last time he had needed a ride Mikayla had ended up waiting an hour for him
    to finish what he swore was an important project before he left. She'd learned later he'd been playing poker in one of the toolsheds.
    The rat.
    Gritting her teeth, she pulled her cell phone from the holder at her hip and hit his number.
    It rang.
    "This is Scotty; leave a message." Voice mail. She hated it. She hung up without 13
    leaving a message. She would end up saying something she was certain she would regret.
    Dammit, the least he could do was answer his phone.
    "Listen, I told