Trigger (Origin Book 1) Read online

But on the other side of the room was Godric, leaning back in a conference room chair with his legs spread wide while he spoke to my father. His guards, dressed all in black, were positioned against the walls at his end of the table. He had no one sitting next to him, conducting the meeting by himself.

  I looked right to a hallway I could sneak off to—but my father flicked a hidden hand, indicating he wanted me to come into the room.

  My eyes widened.

  My father never wanted me in his meetings.

  I swallowed down my nervousness.

  There was no way he could know my plans.

  Or who I had been with tonight.

  I hesitated when Godric stretched his neck and paused as he saw me standing outside the room. Maybe my father did know. There were cameras on base.

  I wiggled the bill of my ball cap down and shoved my shoulders back. There was only one way to find out why he wanted me in there. So I walked forward with fabricated ease, keeping my attention on the door.

  Godric’s brows furrowed as he scanned the area behind me, and he placed his hands on the armrests of his chair. He started to stand. But he ever so slowly sat back down, calm and casual, when he noticed my father already standing up with his attention on me.

  My father arrived at the door before me and opened it, allowing me entry. All the guards on my father’s side took one glance at me and looked away, their attention back on Godric’s guards. And Godric’s guards peered in my direction, then away…and quickly back again when they realized it was me—the woman who had fucked their boss less than a half hour ago.

  My father indicated for me to follow him.

  I peeked at Godric’s face, but all confusion had cleared from his features. He now wore a bored expression—though his golden eyes were watching with patient intelligence. He had to be wondering why the hell I was here and why the great General Carvene seemed to want me here.

  My father glanced in Godric’s direction, glaring with cool eyes. “Excuse me a moment. There’s someone I’d like Poppy to meet.”

  “What?” I asked, utterly confused.

  Godric raised a brow. “Who exactly is this woman to interrupt our meeting?” He flicked a finger at me. “This is highly unorthodox.”

  My father snapped, “And so is your attire.”

  Godric’s lips curved at the edges, enjoying my father’s anger. “You didn’t answer my question, General Carvene.”

  My father ground his teeth together, glancing back at his side of the table before he pressed his hand to my back guiding me in Godric’s direction. I pushed against his palm, digging in my feet, but my father only pressed harder. I breathed in through my nose deeply, trying not to hyperventilate the closer we got.

  Godric’s brows rose, but he stood calmly to his feet.

  We stopped directly in front of his bare chest.

  My father kept his hand on my back and gestured to Godric with his free one. “Poppy, this is Mr. King.” His hand waved in my direction. “Mr. King, this is my daughter, Poppy.”

  My jaw dropped an inch.

  Godric’s jaw ground together.

  Our eyes held one another’s.

  One of his guards coughed in the silence, a hacking cough that had a few of my father’s men turning their gazes in his direction.

  But not my father’s.

  Not mine.

  Not Godric’s.

  My father glanced back and forth between us, his brows furrowing as he stopped staring at me. “Poppy…”

  I shook my head and instantly stuck out my hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. King.” My nostrils gradually flared in a fury. “I hope your stay here so far has been pleasant.”

  Another cough from Godric’s bodyguard. Same guy.

  Godric popped his neck and placed his hand in mine. “It’s lovely to meet you too, Ms. Carvene.” He dipped and kissed the top of my hand and then glared up at me. “And, yes, my stay has been amenable thus far.”

  I jerked my hand away from him, crossing my arms over my chest as he straightened to his intimidating height.

  Godric tilted his head. “Poppy is an interesting name.”

  “I guess so.” I shrugged. “My middle name is Bree. Poppy Bree Carvene.”

  He rubbed absently at his chest—his very bare chest—as he continued to stare at me through thin slits of his eyes. “Lovely name. Mine is Godric Leon King.”

  I shrugged again, looking away from him.

  Mr. King was my father’s sworn enemy.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  My father grunted, muttering under his breath, “That’s about how I thought the introduction would go.”

  I glared at him. “Why did you want me in here?”

  Godric muttered just as quietly as my father had, “Because he’s an overbearing ass.”

  I flayed him with a death stare.

  My father chose to ignore Godric’s comment, and motioned down the table, flicking his wrist. “Poppy, someone arrived in time for this meeting. Because it was late.” He managed to snub Godric—or so he thought.

  I swiftly understood my father had no clue why the meeting was derailed. Oh, like his only daughter having sex with the richest man in the world, the man who ran every single corporation on this fucking planet. The man who battled with him constantly on the Liberated Army’s involvement with restoring our world to working order, not just what the corporations deemed as law.

  And the corporations were the law.

  If the LA hadn’t been formed years ago and had such a wide span hold on the world’s remaining population, Godric would have crushed them instantly. Now he just did it over time.

  One base gone over two years?

  No one notices.

  One hundred bases gone in an instant?

  Godric would have an uprising.

  He was intelligent, feared, wealthy, and owned the Corporate Army to do his blood work if needed. It had also been said he did his own dirty jobs when he was bored.

  Bored of…ruling the world.

  An egotistical ass wasn’t a strong enough name for what he was. His power knew no bounds. And he relished it.

  I could see that now in the way he stood, how he didn’t give a shit how he dressed for his most prominent adversary. The man knew he couldn’t be toppled.

  My father flicked his wrist again, his attention still down the table on his side of the room. “Brandon, I’d like you to officially meet my daughter.”

  I sneered once more at Godric.

  He merely raised a brow, but he was still scowling.

  I turned slightly, not giving him my back, but looked to where my father was indicating. A man stood from his chair, his gaze on mine. He walked with a steady gait in our direction, his eyes never leaving mine. His hair was raven black and his eyes a piercing green. He was at least a foot taller than me, and his red uniform fit his muscled form with care. His features were rugged, yet refined in a cultured money way.

  Brandon was simply breathtaking to look at.

  I glanced back to my father, confusion written all over my features. “Father?”

  He had been watching my reaction, and a silly grin lifted his features in pleasure. “Poppy, this is Brandon Moore.” He peered to the newcomer. “Brandon, this is my daughter, Poppy Carvene.”

  I lifted my hand to him. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “It’s wonderful to meet you too, Ms. Carvene. Your father has told me all about you.” He bent and kissed my hand. His lips lingered a second too long.

  I blushed at the action and gradually took my hand back as he stood straight. I had to blink a few times before I jerked my head to my father, a silent question in my eyes.

  My father still had that stupid smile on his face. He tipped his head in Brandon’s direction, keeping his gaze on mine, entirely too pleased with himself for some reason.

  “Poppy, this is Brandon. Your fiancé.” And my father freaking winked. “I told you that you’d like him.”

  All expression cleared from
my features.

  I sucked in a harsh breath.

  My head snapped back to…my fiancé.

  Then back to my father.

  “Oh, my God,” I muttered.

  Godric’s bodyguard started coughing again.

  CHAPTER NINE

  My father’s smile faltered. “Poppy, are you okay?”

  This just wasn’t right. I couldn’t breathe.

  I glanced at Brandon again.

  His green gaze didn’t miss anything. “It is late, General Carvene.” He turned his striking regard to my father. “Perhaps we can save any further discussions with Ms. Carvene until tomorrow morning? This is a lot for her to take in without sleep.”

  I nodded enthusiastically, unable to speak.

  I needed to get the fuck out of here.

  A train waited with my name on it.

  My father touched my cheek. “What are you doing up so late?”

  I croaked, “I went for a walk. I was restless.”

  He nodded his head and lowered his hand from my face. “That’s understandable.” He turned to Brandon, his smile back in full force. “She knew you were coming tomorrow.”

  Godric lifted his left hand and studied his nails.

  The situation was truly messed up.

  Godric picked at his pinky nail—there was nothing wrong with it—and peered over his shoulder, not a smidge of emotion on his features. Bored.

  “Jonathan, why don’t you get some water for that cough.” It was an order.

  The coughing guard was Jonathan. White haired and broad shouldered. Damn beautiful in his black uniform as he walked past me and out the door, not arguing with Godric this time. Completely professional.

  I motioned with my thumb behind me. “I’m going to head to our quarters, Father.”

  He nodded. “I’ll be here. I don’t think this meeting will end anytime soon.”

  I nodded in agreement and turned to my fiancé. I made myself speak the words in a calm fashion and lifted my hand in his direction again. “Mr. Moore, it was nice meeting you.”

  He tipped down and kissed the top of my hand again, once more lingering too long—as if he had the right to kiss me. An agreement on paper did not give him that right, not in my opinion. “The pleasure was all mine, Ms. Carvene.”

  My chest rose as I inhaled deeply and turned the other way. I raised my hand again. “Mr. King.” I didn’t say it was nice meeting him.

  The right side of Godric’s lips tipped up in a cocky and sexy smirk, and he bowed over my hand and took it in his own. “It was a pleasure, Ms. Carvene.”

  When he kissed the top of my hand, his thumb slid beneath the sweater that had rolled down my arms, hiding my bruised wrists. He pressed hard on the bruise—right at my pulse point.

  I didn’t flinch but merely held his stare as he straightened. Asshole. He hadn’t liked my brush-off and told me so in his own way.

  I turned to the door, walking toward it.

  But I pivoted and marched back to my father.

  I tossed my arms around his neck, hugging him close.

  He grunted in surprise but quickly enfolded me in his arms. The General wasn’t the best with affection, but he had never denied me a hug. He patted my back and waited until I let go to lower his arms.

  His brows rose when I stepped back.

  I shrugged. “I love you, Father.”

  He blinked. “Poppy, are you really all right?”

  “I’m fine. I’m fine. I just wanted a hug before I went to bed.” Before I left you for New City. “That’s all, Father.”

  He nodded his head, but concern still shone in his eyes. “Well, goodnight. And I love you too.”

  With one last look at him, I left the room.

  * * *

  Jonathan was trailing me. And there was no damn water in his hands. Godric had sent him outside to follow my whereabouts. He was quickly catching up with me, no longer ‘hiding’ the closer I got to my quarters.

  I rounded the last corner and walked faster. The LA guards were just at the end. Only authorized personnel were allowed past that point. I glanced behind me and picked up my pace even more.

  Jonathan’s eyes narrowed on the guards, and he began running. He lifted his right arm. “Ms. Carvene! Wait just a moment.”

  To hell with that.

  The look in his eyes was not of peace talking.

  I sprinted to the end of the hallway.

  The guards let me through instantly.

  The whisper of swords being drawn echoed behind me. My father’s soldiers took offense seeing a Corporate Army guard chasing after me.

  Right before I rushed into my quarters, I peered over my right shoulder. Jonathan had his hands up in the air, not fighting with the guards as they questioned him, but he glared daggers in my direction. I quickly shut my door behind me, locking it with a simple command.

  I grabbed my bag out of my room, no time for a shower now with my father’s interference. I pulled the tablet from the side of my bag, and left it near the refrigerator. It was for my father. He would find it tomorrow when he woke, my reason for leaving clearly written on the screen.

  I ambled around our cozy quarters, touching objects that were memories to me. I pulled my ball cap lower over my suddenly wet and burning eyes, and whispered, “Goodbye, Father.”

  I left through the back exit.

  I had a train to catch.

  CHAPTER TEN

  I tipped my head down against the whipping wind that blew dust into my eyes. The pavement was cracked with grass growing in sporadic spots in this part of the decimated old city. History books explained it was once called Norfolk, Virginia. The new world called it Port because of its easy access to the harbors on the Atlantic Ocean for shipping goods around the world. Occasional storms would hammer the docks, but Port was still the largest city for shipping in the King Western Province—ruled by none other than Godric.

  Certain territories in the world still didn’t have a designation after stupid ass people tore our planet apart. War had been a powerful and destructive tool a hundred and fifty years ago. The King Western Province included the entire continent of North America. South America was still dark, only renegades and criminals living there. However, from what my father expressed recently, Mr. King—Godric—was readying his troops to change that soon with the influence and money of the corporations backing him.

  I jogged down another demolished street with my bag slapping against my right side. The prime sectors of Port, near the Liberated Army’s base, were new and pristine. This section wasn’t one of them. I regulated my breathing and kept my head down in case a drone flew by searching the area for lawbreakers.

  My train wasn’t in the common district of Port’s transport dockyards. My father knew all the mainstream trains leaving from those docks. I couldn’t take the chance of one of his soldiers catching me there, either. They all knew me. So most of my savings I spent on securing discrete transportation to New City, a train my father would never find.

  The leaves on the trees growing up through the destroyed houses rustled as the wind picked up; the scent of salt lingered in the air. The ride to New City would be bumpy if the wind continued to batter the shoreline. I was not excited to travel alone on the ocean, but the train ride would afford my weary body a few hours of sleep.

  I stopped behind a rusted red truck with no tires or doors and sat down on the concrete pebbles and bits of sand. The breeze quieted, but the waves of the ocean nearby were loud. I listened closely in the murkiness as I waited for my contact.

  An animal nearby lurked, his silver eyes staring from his crouched position in the shadows of stacked debris. The animal was slight, but I knew better than to test boundaries with the wildlife. They could be rabid, and then you were dead if you scuffled with them. Many had died a gruesome death by contracting rabies from an animal they thought sweet and defenseless.

  A shooting star traced the night sky.

  “I wish my ride would hurry the hell up,�
�� I grumbled, keeping a suspicious eye on the critter.

  A skittering on the pavement to my left.

  My muscles tensed.

  Then a sheep ambled in front of me in the dark.

  It didn’t look my way as it carefully chose where to place its cloven hooves on the cracked concrete. The white fur was gray with dust, and an old scar ran down its ribs. One leg had fresh blood trailing down its fur from a gruesome cut.

  The animal hidden in the debris didn’t even turn its silver eyes to the easy target. It kept watching me. I was the better meal, apparently.

  A low whistle eventually captured my attention.

  I squinted to the right, only the full moon above veiled by the rolling cloud cover.

  Two blinks of light on the beach.

  My ride was here.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Half my attention rested on the lurking animal and the other half on my contact. He was short and stout, his scruffy beard dark brown. I knew his head was bald, but tonight he wore a stocking cap over his skin to fight against the chill in the air. When I was far enough away from the stalking eyes of the animal, I turned completely on the sand and waved.

  I called, “Hi, James. Thank you for coming on short notice.”

  He smiled in greeting, showing his missing front tooth. “Anything for you, Poppy.”

  I’d been there the day he lost his tooth. It wasn’t from a fight. Instead, he was kicked in the face by a horse, knocking him out completely. I still didn’t know why he had been trying to wrangle the beast to ride it. But my best guess was a bet made with his friends. He would do anything for money.

  I pointed to the single train cabin silently hovering over the sand. “Are you sure this will make it to New City?”

  The transport wasn’t new, but the blue, clean energy glowing from underneath the metal slats was steady. It kept the train afloat without wavering as the wind gusted again. I still found it humorous that the corporations had modeled our most common mode of transportation after ancient trains—like the kind of transport that had actually run on rails when the world was once beautiful. It was odd and symbolic of days past when the corporations only looked to the future.