Mission: Out of Control by Susan May Warren Read Free Book Online Page A

boomerang.
    Derek snatched it from the air. “You’re getting rusty.”
    Or just old. This entire—now shortened—vacation had turned into one giant reminder of how much Brody had missed over the past twelve years living overseas. He’d cut his family out of his life—not intentionally but just by letting work supersede family events. Graduations, weddings, reunions.
    Maybe he shouldn’t be taking off so soon.
    Which was why he scuttled home after rehearsal last night, just in time to see Derek creep into his bedroom after his shift at the local convenience store. With the dark curly hair, the wide shoulders, the lean build—the kid seemed a rubber stamp of himself at the age of eighteen. Now if he could just keep him from becomingthe cynical, angry man Brody had turned into. And no amount of praying, or asking for forgiveness, seemed to heal him. Maybe there was no forgiveness for him, despite what his Bible and his faith told him.
    A man with scars so deep they touched his bones. And apparently also knocked him off his game. Like yesterday—Vonya had obviously seen right through his attempts to charm her.
    If he didn’t figure her out, she would have him wrapping himself up in knots.
    He and his boys at Stryker International would have to earn every penny of that hundred-thousand-dollar check.
    Now if he could simply figure out how to get past her stubborn pride. Or was it something more?
    Maybe her so-called sneaky behavior bothered him more than it should. After all, what had she done, really? She certainly wasn’t harboring national secrets.
    Still, she’d taken way too much pleasure in mocking him about Lyle. He’d done his homework, and she’d lied. Not her son. But someone had plunked down a good chunk of cash to pay for this kid’s boarding school in upstate New York. He was beginning to see the footprints of Veronica…
    He swiped at the ball, but Derek faked and moved around him, going in for a layup.
    The ball swooshed through the net and Brody caught it.
    Twilight crept through the neighborhood, stirring to life the cicadas, the fragrance of fresh-cut grass. Ten years ago, it would have been the old station wagon parked at the curb in front of his parents’ house. Now,a low-budget hybrid, scaled down to transport the only two siblings still at home, lounged next to the curb. And in front of that, Derek’s beater Honda.
    In fact, too much had changed for Brody to feel completely at home—like his father shuffling around with a walker, trying to get his feet back under him.
    Or his mother, dragging home dead tired from her day in the hospital’s food service department.
    Brody dribbled the ball out past the designated key—the crack down the center of the driveway—then turned and let fly a beautiful three-pointer, right above Derek’s outstretched arms.
    Swish.
    â€œPretty,” Derek said, grabbing the ball.
    â€œYou can take back that rusty comment any time,” Brody said, hating that sweat dribbled down his forehead and into his eyes while his kid brother looked as fresh as if he were out for a Sunday stroll.
    â€œOnly if you leave my socks alone.” Derek brought the ball out past the line and did some fancy dribbling. No wonder the kid was a varsity all-star. “So, what’s she like?”
    Brody whacked at the ball and missed. “Who?”
    â€œVonya. I mean, you totally rock, bro. I can’t believe you not only met her but actually picked her up and carried her out of that mosh pit. Like, you touched her, dude.”
    Brody knocked the ball from Derek’s grip. It shot out into the grass and he chased after it. “Yeah, well, it was no big deal.”
    Derek didn’t move. “Are you kidding me? Every guyat school has been bugging me for a week, wanting the 411. Did you get her digits?”
    Brody scooped up the ball, breathing hard, then finally sat in the grass he’d