Twist My Heart, Brooke Taylor [best 7 inch ereader TXT] 📗

strategies mapped out in the diner, but he had no exit strategy for this. He downed the last of his coffee as he eyed the TV in the corner, thankful for a distraction. The morning news had come on, and predictably it was all about the tornado. Wanda punched the volume up from behind the counter as the bubbly news anchors shook their well-styled heads, visibly saddened by the tales of destruction. “Our thoughts and prayers go out to the good folks in Colby. Well, Stan, right here in Wichita we had our own excitement. You first heard about it overnight on the Action Eight social media page. We’ve been calling it Hell in a Handbasket.”

“Yes, Jane, this one is a doozy! Yesterday evening, after closing hours, a woman went to the county animal shelter claiming she had treats for the dogs in her basket. Imagine the employee’s surprise when she pulled a gun out. Here’s the video you will only see on Action Eight News.”

The grainy video clip of a young blonde woman in braids entering Animal Control toting a picnic basket caused Nik’s breath to catch. Tigger?

Looking as innocent as a Girl Scout selling cookies, she appeared unsuccessful in getting the attention of the employee. Snatching what appeared to be dog biscuit from her gingham-lined picnic basket, she winged it at him. Nik snickered as it thwacked the back of the kid’s head, shooting him out of the chair and sending it rolling across the office. After a little back and forth, Tigger leaned over the counter. Several bills looked to be tucked into her shoulder strap, but the kid was more interested in her cleavage. Nik’s fist balled.

Whatever the kid said made Tiggs pull her Glock from the picnic basket and smack his temple with the side of it. Nike chuckled, thinking he would’ve done a hell of a lot worse to the punk.

Before she could give the kid an earful, another man came in, distracting them both. The kid pointed at her Glock, causing Tiggs to vault over the counter. Grasping a dog leash along the way, she snaked it around the kid’s neck with the speed of a calf roper. Threading the snap end through the handle loop and pulling it into an impromptu choke collar, she propelled him toward the kennel doors. All the while, she appeared to be instructing the other man to put his keys and phone down and hands up. After directing the large man and skinny teen into a dog kennel, she fired a shot at the surveillance camera and the video cut out.

Before Nik could wrap his head around what he’d just watched, the dopey-eyed kid came on screen, rubbing at his forehead. “I’m lucky it just grazed me.”

She shot him? Nik called bullshit. No way a 9mm bullet at close range had made the little smear of pink on his temple. Looked more like the lipstick left from the Glock kissing it.

“Are you saying the woman shot you?” the on-scene correspondent asked. “Because it looked more like she hit you with gun itself.”

“Both! She was trying to kill me, man.” Apparently the kid didn’t realize the whole interaction had been caught on tape, because he doubled-down on his lie. “Before my manager came back, I had her. I had her down, but when I let up, she got the gun back. We struggled and before I could take the gun off her again, she managed to get a round off.”

Jane returned to the screen. “Making this story more unusual, the young woman left some kind of symbol or message on the door of the room where I’m told the red-tagged dogs are held before being euthanized.” A picture flashed of the tattoo-like symbol—a swirl, loosely in the shape of the number six, circling a star-like configuration.

“Is that the sign for anarchy? Do you think this stunt was some kind of social statement the woman was making?” Stan asked, looking befuddled.

Annoyance flitted over Jane’s perfect features as her co-anchor went off script. “We don’t know, Stan.”

“I’ve seen it somewhere before. Oh, I bet it’s one of those Avengers symbols, maybe Iron Man?”

Jane’s expression screamed, ‘Iron Man? I don’t think so, Stan!’ Before she resumed her pleasant, professional demeanor. “What we can tell you is, while she did let several dogs out of their enclosures, they’ve all been accounted for with the exception of a German shepherd brought in on an unconfirmed bite charge. The dog is registered to the woman believed to be on the video. Thea Gale, twenty-five, is considered armed and dangerous at this time.”

“Wow, Jane. So glad they got all those dogs back in. Hopefully she will be brought in soon as well.”

“I know, Stan, pretty scary stuff. Speaking of scary stuff…” An image of a dark-haired college student with intense, pale blue eyes popped up on the screen. “Tomorrow marks the one-year anniversary of the disappearance of college student Rebecca Meade. The day after graduating, the smart, beautiful senior with her whole life in front of her seemed to vanish into thin air. Tonight we will return to the University of Kansas for a special report on where things stand in her still unsolved case.”

Stan nodded. “For the full story, tune in tomorrow for Timeline’s special feature on Rebecca Meade’s disappearance as well as an in-depth probe into the growing number of missing person cases on college campuses. Now let’s go back to Jackie ‘Jump-back’ Johnson for more on last night’s tornado damage.”

Nik tuned out the newscasters as he settled the bill, tipping Wanda heavily before taking the doggy bag for Titan and a toothpick for himself.

He slid into the driver’s seat, wrapping his fingers tight around the steering wheel. His molars ground down on the toothpick as Thea Gale, armed and dangerous, climbed in next to him.

He knew what he should do with her. What he should’ve done immediately. What choice was there, really? Leo and Coop were expecting him. He needed to get