“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.”