Trigger (Circle of Justice #1) Read online

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  Trigger

  L.P. Dover

  Copyright © 2017 by L.P. Dover

  Editor: Crimson Tide Editorial

  Cover Design by: Mae I Design and Photography

  Interior Design and Formatting by:

  www.emtippettsbookdesigns.com

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Notice

  Other Titles by LP Dover

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  About the Author

  ALSO CHECK OUT THESE EXTRAORDINARY AUTHORS & BOOKS:

  *~* EXCLUSIVE COVER REVEAL *~*

  NO LIMIT

  FOREVER FAE SERIES

  Forever Fae

  Betrayals of Spring

  Summer of Frost

  Reign of Ice

  SECOND CHANCES SERIES

  Love’s Second Chance

  What He Wants

  Trusting You

  Meant for Me

  Fighting for Love

  Intercepting Love

  Catching Summer

  Defending Hayden

  Last Chance

  Intended for Bristol

  GLOVES OFF SERIES

  A Fighter’s Desire: Part One

  A Fighter’s Desire: Part Two

  Tyler’s Undoing

  Ryley’s Revenge

  Winter Kiss: Ryley and Ash (A Gloves Off Novella)

  Paxton’s Promise

  Camden’s Redemption

  Kyle’s Return

  ARMED AND DANGEROUS SERIES

  No Limit

  Roped In

  High-Sided

  Hidden Betrayals (2017)

  SOCIETY X SERIES

  Dark Room

  Viewing Room

  Play Room

  ROYAL SHIFTERS SERIES

  Turn of the Moon

  Resisting the Moon

  STANDALONE TITLE

  Love, Lies, and Deception

  To the readers: I hope you enjoy Preston as much as I enjoyed writing him.

  Preston

  “Dude, where the fuck are you?”

  Huffing, I slammed my hand down on the kitchen counter, wishing like hell I could throw my cell against the wall and never talk to anyone again. “On my way,” I growled.

  Cliff sighed. “What’s taking so long?”

  If he only knew. It was a bad day for me. Hell, every fucking day was worse than the last. It didn’t help that my father liked to call and remind me of my failure every goddamn week. “I’ll be there in a minute,” I snapped.

  “Dude, hurry up. Emma’s been asking about you. I think tonight’s gonna be your night, if you get out of your shitty mood.”

  I hung up the phone and took a deep breath, my fists clenched tight to keep my hands from shaking. Sometimes I wished my friends knew about my past, so I wouldn’t have to come up with bullshit excuses every time I got pissed. Cliff was my friend and we started up a band a couple of years ago, but he didn’t know about my real life; neither did Emma.

  When I picked up and moved from Charleston to attend college in the North Carolina Mountains, I’d left everything behind. None of the students recognized me, or put together the pieces of who I actually was. It was nice for a while, but I was living a lie. I fought the urges inside of me every single day.

  Hurrying out of my apartment, I took the stairs two at a time. The smell of weed wafted past my nose. I’d give anything to smoke a blunt and forget life for a while, but it wouldn’t help. I could be stoned off my ass, or in bed with random college chicks, and still not be able to forget.

  The night air was so cold I pulled my hoodie over my head and started on my way through the parking lot to one of the back street shortcuts. Snow had begun to fall and by the end of the night, the ground would be covered. Since I planned on getting drunk and going home with Emma, I didn’t see the need in driving my truck.

  Emma Turner was one of the only girls on campus I hadn’t tried to fuck. She was more to me than just some friend, or singer in my band. However, tonight I didn’t give a shit. If she wanted me, I was damn well going to make sure she got it. To hell with the consequences.

  The wind whipped by my ear, howling so hard it sounded like a scream. The street wasn’t lit, but that didn’t bother me. I liked it that way. The bar was only a quarter of a mile away, so I hoped the silence would help my mood. The last thing I wanted was to be a dick to Emma when she didn’t deserve it.

  Another muffled sound caught my attention and I stopped. There were school apartments to my right, music blaring from one of the many parties going on. However, this sound had come from my left, the direction of the woods. I heard it again and my body froze. It was a woman’s scream. Only someone within close distance would’ve heard it.

  What made my blood boil were the sounds that followed. It was as if everything inside of me snapped. The urges I’d fought for so long surfaced—there was no going back. Taking off into the woods, I was nearly blinded by my rage. The sounds grew louder and it sickened me to the core.

  Everything was dark, but it wasn’t enough to hide what was going on. The girl’s face was pushed into the ground to muffle her screams while the fucker undid his pants, her skirt lifted and underwear ripped. She fought as hard as she could, but she was no match for his size.

  I needed him to suffer . . . but even more than that, I wanted him dead. Without a word, I closed the distance and grabbed him around the neck. Hauling him up, I slammed him against a tree. It felt good to hear his howls of pain.

  “What the fuck?” he spat, reeking of beer.

  Squeezing his neck, I bashed him against the tree, his eyes growing wide in terror. “Feel like a man now?” I growled. “It’s not so fun when you’re helpless, is it?”

  He gasped for air. “She . . . wanted . . . it.”

  Teeth clenched, I squeezed harder. “You’re a pathetic son of a bitch. Let me guess, she wanted it as badly as you want this.” I dropped him down, long enough to grab his chin and the back of his head. Snapping his neck, I watched him collapse lifeless to the ground.

  The moment stilled my breath. I hadn’t known what it would feel like to kill someone, to know it was me who took their life. Out of all the emotions I could have guessed I’d experience, pure elation wouldn’t have been one of them. T
he high that buzzed through my body felt like nothing I’d ever experienced before. There was no remorse, no guilt for what I’d done. He deserved to die, like the countless other men out there who preyed on innocent women.

  The girl’s whimpers brought me back. With my hood over my head, I turned to face her. Knowing I was backlit by the moon, she couldn’t see my face through her tears and the dark. Her shirt was torn and she scrambled to lower her skirt.

  “You’re safe now,” I said, helping her up by the hand. Her whole body shook and she fell into my arms, her cries echoing in my ear. I had to get away. “You need to get help. Run to the apartments and call 911. Now!”

  I let her go and she took off out of the woods toward the apartments, while I raced back to mine. There was only one thing I could do. Once I was in my apartment, I grabbed the phone out of my pocket and found my father’s number. He picked up by the end of the first ring.

  “What’s wrong, son?”

  I leaned against the door, knowing my life was about to get exponentially more fucked up. “I’m ready. Just tell me what I have to do.”

  Preston

  (Eight Years Later)

  “Summer’s coming. It’s getting warmer every day,” Linda said, setting down my plate of eggs and bacon. She was in her late sixties, with short, white hair. I don’t think there was ever a morning where she didn’t wear something pink.

  I took a sip of my coffee. “That it is. Luckily, I don’t plan on staying in town for much longer.” For the past two months, I’d eaten breakfast at her and her husband’s diner every morning. Boston was just one of the cities on my list. It was time to move on.

  Her brows furrowed. “You moving?”

  I nodded. “New York. Lots of people over there I want to . . . see.”

  Frowning, she filled up my coffee cup. “I hate to see you go, young man. I’m going to miss seeing you in here every morning. Make sure to stop in again if you’re ever in town.”

  “I will.”

  Once she was gone, I turned my attention to the window. The second I heard the sirens, I grinned. Others in the diner rushed to the windows, jockeying for position to see what was going on. I knew it was only a matter of time before they found his body.

  The crowd grew thick with onlookers, especially when the media showed up. Linda turned on the TV so we could hear the live coverage. “Another Trigger victim . . .” That was one of the names they called me, Trigger. The others were: serial killer, murderer, vigilante, and the list went on and on. I didn’t give a fuck what the people thought. I did what I had to do.

  I finished my breakfast and walked up to the counter. Linda’s husband came out from the kitchen and stood beside her, both of their eyes fixed on the TV. “I bet it’s that serial killer again,” she stated. “It’s making me nervous.”

  Roger put his arm around her. “I’ll protect you, sweetheart.”

  Pulling out my wallet, I placed my money on the counter. “From what I understand, the victims are all criminals. I think you’ll be fine.”

  Linda looked at me and sighed. “He’s still a killer. Only God is allowed to dole out that kind of punishment.”

  “True, but not everyone wants to wait for an eternity.” I slid the money over to her. “Be safe out there.” I walked out of the restaurant and down the street to my car. My bags were packed and I had my rifle secured in the trunk. New York was going to keep me busy for a while.

  My phone rang as soon as I got onto the highway. The caller’s name popped up on my dashboard, and I blew out a frustrated breath as I pressed the button to accept it. “Hello, Glenn.”

  Glenn Chandler was my superior and also a good friend of my father’s. They’d worked together for years in the Coast Guard, until Glenn branched out and not only joined a secret group headed by the FBI, but built a multi-billion-dollar company as well. We were fully trained, lethal assassins. I never knew anything like that existed, until my father wanted me to join. I’d spent the past eight years training and working for the FBI.

  “Would you like to explain what the fuck you’re doing up there?” Glenn demanded.

  “I’m heading to New York. My time in Boston’s done.”

  “You’re damn right it is. What the hell were you thinking? You can’t keep doing this, son. If you get caught, my superiors will be up my ass even more so than they are right now. They want you to slow down.”

  Releasing a heavy sigh, I sat back in my seat. “It had to be done.”

  “Not like that it didn’t. We have to be careful. A kill here and there is fine, but every day? It’s too much. I want to kill the bastards as much as you do, but we can’t risk exposing what we are. If you can’t follow the rules, you’re out.”

  I couldn’t afford to be kicked out. I needed the group. Killing was an addiction I couldn’t let go. It was all I had left. “I need this, Glenn. You know that.”

  He blew out a shaky breath. “I know, son. But I don’t want to see you go down the same path your father did.”

  And there it was . . . the one thing I didn’t want to hear. I hadn’t seen my father in years. Not since he got drunk and wrapped his car around a telephone pole, paralyzing himself. Now he was a resident of Green Meadows, an assisted living facility.

  “I’m not that stupid,” I snarled.

  “Now don’t start that shit. You don’t know how hard it was for him when your mother and sister were murdered. He blamed himself for not being there.”

  “Bullshit. He blamed me. It was my fault we weren’t there to protect them. Why else do you think he tried to recruit me when I turned eighteen? He thought it was my duty.” I’d been the one who wanted to go on that fishing trip. If it wasn’t for us leaving home, they’d still be alive. That was why I left Charleston, to get away from it all.

  “He wanted your support, Preston. The desire to find the man who killed your family was too much on him.”

  “And look where that got us. It’s been thirteen years and we still don’t know who the fucker is.”

  The line went quiet, before Glenn sighed. “I need you in Charleston.”

  “Fuck that. I’m going to New York.”

  “It’s an order, Hale. Either you come down to Charleston, or I’ll have my sons hunt you down. You know very well they’ll find you.”

  “Fuck,” I growled, slamming my hand on the steering wheel so hard the pain shot up my arm. “What the hell are you even doing down there?” Glenn’s multi-billion-dollar company was in Charlotte, North Carolina. There was no reason for him to be in Charleston, other than to see my father.

  “I’m here visiting your father. It’s time you saw him too.” I knew it. “But there’s something else . . .”

  “What’s that?” I grumbled. The exit to New York City drew closer, but instead of taking it, I continued south on Interstate 95. I couldn’t believe I was doing this shit.

  “Your mother and sister’s case is going to be reopened,” he informed me.

  It was as if everything around me came to a halt. Swerving to the side of the road, I slammed on the brakes, tires screeching. “What happened?” For them to reopen the case after so many years, they had to have new evidence.

  Glenn cleared his throat. “There was a murder last night. I wanted to catch you before you saw it on the news.”

  “Go on,” I snapped. My whole body shook, my hands aching to hold the cold metal of a gun between them.

  “Judging by the details, I think he’s the one.”

  Heart racing, I could feel the rage coursing through my body. Stepping on the gas, I hurled back onto the interstate. “On my way.”

  Emma

  Closing my eyes, I breathed in the salty sea air and smiled, propping my feet up on the wrought iron rails of the balcony connected to my room. I loved the way the waves sounded as they crashed along the shore. We’d been in Charleston for the past week, staying at one of Glenn’s many homes. And I hadn’t had to do a single thing other than relax, which was odd. Working for one of the
richest men on the east coast had its perks, but he was interesting to say the least. I’d been under his employ for a little over eight months now.

  A knock sounded on the bedroom door. Opening my eyes, I sat up straighter and turned toward the sound. “Come in,” I called.

  The door opened and Glenn stepped inside, his face a stony mask. I’d seen that look a million times, but could never decipher what it meant. His dark hair had more wisps of gray than it did when he’d hired me.

  “Are you busy?” he asked.

  I jumped out of my seat, setting my notebook on the deck table. “Of course not. Is there something I can do for you?”

  He shook his head. “Not at the moment. I wanted to stop by and share our plans.” He walked further into my room and looked out toward the ocean, his crisp, button-down shirt and pants perfectly pressed. I’d never seen him look normal, in something as mundane as a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. “I’m sorry for being scarce the past week. Something came up that required my attention,” he said, turning his attention to me.

  “No worries. I was just working on a new song.”

  His lip pulled into a small smile, a rare occurrence. “How’s it coming along?”

  I shrugged. “Okay, I guess. It’s been so long since I’ve written one. It’ll probably sound horrible.”

  “I very much doubt that,” he added. “I’ve heard you sing some of your songs under your breath.” Blood rushed to my face in embarrassment. “But one of the things I wanted to talk to you about is my son,” he continued. “How would you feel about working for him when I retire?”

  My pulse spiked and I could feel my heart pound. Wade Chandler was twenty-nine, just two years older than me, but he made me nervous. He was extremely good looking, yet serious all the time, hardly ever smiling. I’d seen so many people give into him from a single stare. Even though I’d worked for Chandler Enterprises for several months, I’d only spoken to Wade maybe three times, and that was a ‘how are you doing’ type of thing.

  Brows furrowed, Glenn stared at me. “Is something wrong?”