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

hand through his hair, he approached me at the frozen yogurt bar. Those eyes of his were pretty impressive in this light, especially as they widened catching sight of the three mini spoons loaded up with various concoctions balanced between my fingers on one hand, while I raised a fourth to my mouth with the other. “What the hell are you doing?”

“The cashier said it was okay.”

“To taste all of them and the toppings?”

“I’m restless. And I didn’t know what Macadamia Nut tasted like with sprinkles.”

If Nik were here, he’d understand. Heck, he’d already be setting up at the Slurpee station for round two.

I shoved the spoon into my mouth.

“Well, Edward Yogurt-hands, how is it?”

“It’s awful,” I sputtered. “Macadamia Nut is good and sprinkles are good, but together they’re pretty nasty.”

Coop grunted as he grabbed up a large cup, dumped a couple spoonfuls of chunky brown stuff in the bottom, and topped it with a whitish frozen yogurt. He finished off by drizzling dark chocolate syrup, adding a dusting of brown sprinkles, and dropping a pinch of tan chips on top. After having it weighed and paying the cashier, he handed it to me.

I eyed the tasty looking concoction. “What is it?”

“Brownie bottom cheesecake with dark chocolate sauce, milk chocolate sprinkles, and peanut butter chips. My fro-yo game is pretty legendary. Think it will hold you until I get back?”

I took a taste and sighed. “Oh yeah, I’m all good now.”

“Okay. See those?” He subtly eyed a camera behind the clerk’s counter and one in the corner by the hallway leading to the bathrooms. “Always stand where you’re in line of them, okay? Don’t talk to strangers. And try to leave some snacks for everyone else.”

“I can’t promise about the snacks.”

His intense eyes met mine. “Just promise to be here when I get back.”

I couldn’t promise him that either. My Plan B was down the long hallway by the restrooms which led to an employee area. There, sunlight streamed through an ajar exit door like a beacon. Instead of tipping Coop off, I took a big bite of fro-yo and nodded like the good girl he expected me to be.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

The Pump-N-Go had been bustling since Clay had taken position catty-corner in a McDonald’s parking lot thirty minutes prior. Despite the busy intersection, he’d spotted exactly what he’d arrived early to catch. Thea. No way they’d risk trying to nab him without even having the bait on site. He shot off a text telling Aimee the plan to meet with Thea at the park in Estes had been a bluff and to wait at the cabin for further instruction.

Through his binoculars, Clay followed Thea as she strode into the convenience store ahead of her little bodyguard. The other guy, the one from the mall, had to be around somewhere as well, but Clay sensed there was more to this meetup. The memory loss story had been convincing, especially combined with Aimee’s description of Thea’s odd behavior at the mall. But the whole thing was too convenient, too easy, and he’d known better than to trust it…trust Thea.

He scanned each car, truck, and SUV in the area until he found the catch. When he did, he dropped his binos and sank back in the driver’s seat of the car he’d lifted. Amnesia, my ass.

Did Thea really expect him to waltz right into a trap with Todd fucking Coleman?

The guy was one of the most straightlaced agents at the Bureau. He typically handled internal affairs, so most agents gave him wide berth. Clay didn’t have anything on him to jeopardize his career, but he did have dirt. A certain Dutch prostitute Clay had set him up with a few years back when Coleman’s marriage had been on the rocks. Not that Coleman had even known she was a pro, much less who’d paid the buxom beauty to step into his self-destructive path. But maybe now would be a good time to drop that bombshell, along with the photographic evidence. Let’s see how interested Coleman was in getting involved in he and Thea’s private matters then.

What had Thea already told the prick? Fuck. Probably too much given he’d hustled his ass all the way out to a gas station in Boulder, Colorado. At least he appeared to be alone. Easier to manipulate. Other than the evidence Thea had recently uncovered on his sex-trafficking activities, which in and of itself could be dismissed as a desperate attempt of hers to discredit him, Clay had made sure his ass was covered. The only loose end was falsifying her death.

With what Clay had on Coleman, he should be able to talk his way out of mistaking Thea’s body. And if talking didn’t work, the graphic photos he had, ones which would be particularly upsetting to Coleman’s wife, would. Add in everything else he had on Thea, like framing her for the murder of her psychiatrist, and Coleman should be eager to dismiss whatever she’d told him in a heartbeat.

It wouldn’t be enough, though. Thea was too close to uncovering everything with Sera and the Six. There’d be no talking his way out of his connection to them, and he didn’t want to. The Ring was the only place where he could unleash his true self and have absolution all at the same time. But keeping his job at the Bureau was critical to ensuring their organization operated under the radar.

Through his binos, he watched Coleman take a call, and soon after his phone vibrated with a text from the bodyguard. Clay confirmed he’d be there in ten minutes, thanking the asshole again for taking care of his sweet angel. Meanwhile he scanned the building, noting a delivery truck parked at the back.

Pulling onto the street, Clay went the long way around and entered from the rear, well hidden from the pumps. As expected, the stockroom door was propped open with a plastic crate. Clay pulled in behind the van and hopped out. Hastily lighting a cigarette,