Read Online Out of Control by Stephanie Feagan - Free Book Online

worked for Lacrouix and Book, I’d never been sexually attracted
     to any of my coworkers, but I guess there’s a first time for everything. The feeling
     was strange and I had a hard time dealing with it. Technically, on this job, at least,
     I was his supervisor. It’s so not cool to have sex with an employee, but I supposed
     there wasn’t any law against fantasizing, so I did that. A lot.
    The afternoon of our seventh day on the job, I was driving the backhoe, debating whether
     a full of himself guy like Robichaud would be any good in bed, when Dylan drove up.
    I saw him say something to Conaway, which appeared to make her extremely angry. She
     spat on his shoe and he looked ready to backhand her. I idled the backhoe, jumped
     to the ground and took off running. By the time I got there, Dylan was eating dirt,
     Cash standing over him, his fists clenched at his sides.
    “What happened?”
    Conaway was clearly disgusted. “The son of a bitch said I looked like a good fuck.
     Can you believe that? Like, what, is that supposed to be romantic? Was I supposed
     to say, hell, yeah, I’d love to screw a drunken, overweight, baby-faced goat with
     atrocious manners?”
    I glanced at Cash. He shrugged. “Asshole deserved it. If I’d had my pistol on me,
     he’d be living out the rest of his days wishing he could pee.”
    Robichaud and Harley ran up to us and took in the whole situation with one glance.
     Harley asked, “Did you kill him?”
    “Regrettably, no,” Conaway replied. “He’s still breathing. See?” She pointed to his
     back rising and falling.
    About that time, a small, black sports car wheeled up the road and stopped in a cloud
     of dust. A small man climbed out and walked toward us, his expression furious. He
     knelt beside Dylan, rolled him to his back, and inspected his face, which didn’t look
     good. His entire mouth was covered in blood and dirt.
    The man stood and glared. “What the hell happened to him?”
    I knew it had to be Hoyt Sharpe. No one else on earth would care that Dylan was unconscious.
     But some childish side of my character made me say, “Who the hell are you to ask?
     This is a closed location.”
    Boy, if looks could kill. He came close and jabbed a finger into my sternum. “I’m
     the one paying for this job. Now tell me why my son’s down there in the dirt.”
    I stepped back. “Touch me again and you’ll be joining him.”
    Robichaud moved next to me. “Mr. Sharpe?”
    “That’s right.” He shifted his gaze to Robichaud. “I take it you’re in charge here?”
    “On the contrary. I’m Nicholas Robichaud.” He jerked a thumb in my direction. “This
     is Blair Drake, the engineer supervising this kill.” He nodded toward Conaway. “That’s
     Leslie Conaway, the woman your son suggested would be a good fuck.” He pointed to
     Cash. “That’s Jim Cash, who knocked your son’s teeth down his throat. Mr. Cash doesn’t
     like it when men insult women.”
    Way to go, Robichaud. I cut him a look, and he raised one dark brow as if to say, You’re welcome.
    Hoyt Sharpe looked ready to burst a blood vessel. He leveled a hard stare at me. “Expect
     a call from my lawyer.”
    “I’ll do that. In the meantime, take your son and get off location.” I didn’t like
     him. Or his son.
    “Actually, Ms. Drake, you and your crew will be the ones leaving.”
    “A.J. is operating this well. He’s the one who hired us, and he’ll have to fire us.”
    Hoyt’s expression was just like Dylan’s; superior and smug. “A.J. is no longer operating.
     He was arrested this morning and taken to the county jail in Midland for arraignment
     in federal court. Traces of explosive materials were found in the trunk of his car,
     and he has no alibi for the two days when the land based wells blew out. Hundred dollar
     bills with his fingerprints were found among Parnell Harkness’s belongings, indicating
     A.J. paid him to blow that offshore well.” He nodded toward the