Trigger

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Preston

What the hell was I doing back in Charleston? It was a huge goddamn mistake. If Glenn wanted to wrangle me in, he’d f****d up. If anything, being back made everything worse. I had no intention of facing my father, not until the man who screwed up our lives was dead. All I wanted was for the guilt to go away. No matter how many rapists and child molesters I killed, nothing worked.

My sister, Cameron, had been killed by strangulation just outside of our house on the beach, while my mother died inside. There was a struggle, but she tried her best to protect my sister, only to die from a blunt head trauma. If my father and I had been home, there’s a chance they could’ve survived. Instead, they died alone and afraid. The thought sickened me to the core.

Glenn was parked in the Sea Dunes motel parking lot, his stare never wavering from mine when I pulled in beside him. He waved me over, so I got out of my car and joined him in the backseat while his driver stood outside. It’d been almost a year since I’d seen him last.

“You look terrible,” he said, pursing his lips.

“I’m sure you would too if you drove all f*****g day without stopping,” I snapped.

“That’s why you’re going to stay at my house while you’re in town. The pool house is all ready for you. And once we’re done in Charleston, you’re going to work for me in Charlotte. It’s about time you do something with your life besides killing people.”

I was about to blast off, but he held up his hand.

“Don’t even think about arguing with me. I know you don’t want to be here, but there’s no other choice. You’re the only one who can help.”

I huffed. “How’s that? I haven’t been in this town for years.”

“You’re right. But I’m hoping after you see this, it’ll spark your interest.” There was a folder in the seat pocket in front of him. He pulled it out and handed it to me. “Grady McConnell, the chief of police here, gave me this today. He’s at the scene now waiting for us. He’s going to let us look around.”

Bile rose up the back of my throat. Flashbacks of seeing my mother and Cameron’s bodies ran rampant through my mind. I’d looked at their files a thousand times, hoping to figure out the puzzle. I didn’t want this to be the same way.

The last thing I expected was to know who the victim was.

“f**k,” I hissed, staring at a picture of the bright-eyed girl I once sat beside in my high school class. Shelly Price was one of the smart ones, always concentrating on her school work. Unlike me, who cared more about sports than anything else.

From the crime scene photos, she was strangled to death . . . just like Cameron. There were no other marks on her body, except for her neck.

According to the report, she’d been r***d, but it wasn’t until after she died. Sick fucker. I slammed the file shut and closed my eyes, clenching my teeth so hard the muscles in my jaw hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me who it was?” I growled, trying to slow my breathing.

Glenn’s voice lowered, but I could tell he was ready to grab me if I lost control. “I thought if you found out, it’d set you off and I’d have to hunt you down. If this is the same guy who murdered your sister, then she’s the key. I need you to dig deeper.”

“How?”

His gaze softened. “You need to go home, Preston. Search that house until you’ve combed every square inch. Something’s been missed and it needs to be found.”

The car felt smaller by the minute. I had to get the f**k out of there. “Forget it.”

Jerking the door open, I stormed outside and slammed it shut. There was no way in hell I was going back to my childhood home. I had no clue what the place even looked like now that my father didn’t live there anymore. It was probably falling apart.

The wind had picked up and the rotten decay of death surrounded me. Everywhere I went, it was all around me. Across the street, the waves crashed on the beach and there was a glow of lights where the police were investigating the scene of the crime. I wasn’t the police, just a killer who worked for the FBI. I doled out punishment—just the way I liked it.

A door slammed behind me and Glenn’s footsteps approached. “This could be your chance to end this, son. I know there’s more to you than mindless killing. Open yourself up. Use that potential your father always told me about.” His arm brushed against mine as we stared out at the dark, crashing waters. “He misses you, Preston.”

“Does he know about Shelly?”

An audible sigh escaped his lips. “Yes. When he found out, he was chomping at the bit to help.”

I could only imagine the pain and anger he must be feeling. I’d have killed myself if I was stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of my life.

Glenn placed a hand on my shoulder. “If he knows you’re here and that you’re helping, it’ll make a world of difference. He’ll feel like he’s a part of it.”

“I can’t. Not yet.”

“It’s your choice. I’m sure you’ll make the right decision.” He patted my shoulder and started across the road. “Now come on.”

I followed him to where the crime scene was marked off with yellow tape. The only way to get through this mess was to shut myself off. But that’d be easy. I’d done it so much, I didn’t even know who I was anymore.

*

Every time I closed my eyes to sleep, I saw visions of the people my targets had tortured. The smiling faces of kids who would never know what it was like to be innocent again, or the women who would always be looking over their shoulders for the next attacker. It was an endless dream I couldn’t control. The only time it got better was when I killed.

Drenched in sweat, I glanced over at the bedside clock. It was three in the f*****g morning. Even being in Glenn’s pool house, with probably the most comfortable bed I’d ever sat on, going back to sleep would still be impossible. Unless . . .

My computer bag sat on the floor, beckoning me to open it. It was like a beacon, silently telling me it was time. It was the longest I’d ever gone without finding a target.

“f**k it,” I grumbled low.

Grabbing a clean black shirt from my bag, I put it on and reached for my computer. I turned on my laptop and felt the adrenaline coursing through my veins. There was a special government software only my group had access to. It gave us the names and addresses of possible targets, including their everyday activities. We could see which ones were eliminated and by who. Wade Chandler, Glenn’s oldest son, and I were neck and neck on most kills, but I had him beat by two. Well, three, after tonight.

Scrolling down the list, my whole body shook in anticipation. It shouldn’t make someone happy to kill another being, but I craved it. Grinning wide, I found a target in North Charleston. Jim Butler was right up my alley. He’d served time in prison for r****g his step-daughter, damaging her so bad she wouldn’t be able to have children when she got older. Most of the time, men like that didn’t survive prison, but the fucker must’ve had luck on his side. He sure as hell wasn’t going to survive me.

Grabbing my g*n, I holstered it at my hip, pocketing two extra magazines for good measure. Glenn better not even think about trying to stop me. Taking my car keys, I clutched them in my hand and stormed out of the pool house. There were no lights on in the main house, but as soon as I walked past the pool, a light blared to life.

I turned to face the window, only to find Glenn staring at me. We faced off. I dared him to come out and stop me. Instead, he turned his head and shut off the light. He thought I needed to be saved, but I didn’t need saving.

*

Jim’s house was pitch black, and there was an old, beat-up truck in the driveway. Slipping around to the back of the house, I pried open the lock to the patio door and crept inside. Everything smelled like garbage and piss. The fucker snored so loud it led me right to his bedroom. He was by himself, sleeping on his back, with a hand behind his head as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

I kicked his bed and he jerked awake, his hands wiping at his face. “Wha—what’s going on?”

“Rise and shine, cocksucker. That must be how you stayed alive in prison . . . sucking dick.”

“Who are you?” he shouted, scrambling off the bed and backing against the wall. Only, he didn’t get far enough.

I pointed my g*n straight at his c**k and fired. His screams were deafening, and all I could do was smile as he flailed around on the floor, bleeding from his groin. He scrambled and clawed himself to the corner of the room, his face a mask of sheer terror.

Good. I wanted him to feel fear, to know what it was like to be terrified. No amount of t*****e was going to take away what he did. But at least his victims would know he died a horrible death. His step-daughter was the only one documented, but men like him had to hurt others; it was what they lived for.

Butler looked up at me as I towered over him, pointing my g*n at his head. “Please,” he begged, his body shaking.

Hearing that word infuriated the f**k out of me. There was no room for mercy. He didn’t deserve it. Finger on the trigger, I glared down at him. “This is for Milly.”