by Debra Kayn
"Evan Kingsley."
"Good, girl." He brought her head up. "What's your parents' address?"
"1839 South Oak St. It's off —"
"Interstate. I know where it is." He swiped the stray tear from her cheek.
"Glen, they won't know..." She swallowed. "They don't know what is going on. I disappeared out of their life. Just left. They have no idea I'm here or alive. It was the only way I could be sure they'd remain safe from Evan because I knew he'd question them about where I went when he found me gone. If he suspected they were helping me..."
"We'll deal with that later. For now, I'll put someone outside their house and make sure Evan Kingsley doesn't come anywhere close to them, okay?"
She grabbed onto his vest. "Someone needs to watch Evan's dad's house, too. He's only a few blocks from here. It's 612 North Seventh. He works swing shift and gets home a little after midnight. Evan will be able to get into his house. There's a key hidden outside."
He held on to her and grabbed his phone out of his pocket, tapping in the addresses. "Where is Evan's house?"
He felt her shake her head. "I don't know. I snuck into his dad's house the other day after Evan spotted me on the back of your motorcycle. I wanted to try and find something with his address on it. If I could figure out where he lived and what he planned, I'd be able to keep a better eye on him. But, there was nothing in the house with his new address on it. He...we lived with his dad when we were together. He moved out afterward."
The noise of three Harley's arriving shook his house. A knock came before his front door opened and his MC brothers looked at Glen for information. His first concern was Heidi. He had to make sure she stayed in the moment and wouldn't retreat back to protecting others before taking care of herself.
"Blue, what're your parents' names?" He turned her until she could only focus on him.
"Gunnar and Anna...Peterson." She inhaled deeply, leaned into him and whispered, "My name is Ingrid Peterson."
He kissed her hard and firmly, pulling back and holding her within inches. The last barrier she held on to slipped, and he said her name, rolling it on his tongue. "Ingrid."
"Yes." She mimicked his kiss.
That voluntary show of her feelings was a reminder of the connection they shared. The roles of him teaching, her learning. Mutual. Gratifying. A promise of what could happen between them.
"I'm going to get your life back for you and when it's all over...," he whispered. "I want to know the side of you that's Ingrid because I think she's the strongest woman I've ever met."
She lowered her gaze. He held on and gave her a small shake until she looked up at him again.
"Okay?"
She nodded.
"I'm going to tell the others, fill them in. We've been through this before, many times. Just hold on to me." He turned, leaving his hand on the back of her neck and spoke to his club. "This is Ingrid Peterson. She left an abusive relationship two years ago in fear. There were threats made against her parents, Gunnar and Anna Peterson of 1839 South Oak and her ex-boyfriend's father who lives at 612 North Seventh."
"What's the boyfriend's father's name?" Wayne looked up from tapping on his phone.
Glen turned to Hei—Ingrid and raised his brows. She leaned against him and said, "Stewart Kingsley."
Wayne lowered his phone and frowned. "Officer Kingsley?"
"Yes," said Ingrid. "He doesn't know. He loves Evan, and it's going to—"
"Stop." Wayne stepped forward. "We understand. The only thing you need to worry about is staying aware of what is going on around you and never be alone until we catch...what is the ex's name?"
"Evan," she whispered. "You must understand. His dad is a cop. A good cop. When he finds out, he's going to want to protect his son, and he won't know that Evan is dangerous. That Evan promised to kill his dad if he found out about the abuse."
Glen curled his arm, bringing Ingrid to his chest and wrapped his arms around her, lending his strength. She'd done well handing over the information.
"I can hit the parents' house. Thad can go stakeout Kingsley's place. The rest of you go do what needs to be done." Chuck dug out his phone. "Do you want me to call Lieutenant Gomez and give him a heads up that you're coming to the police department?"
"No." Glen held on while Ingrid squirmed to stand away from him and argue. "Ingrid has spoken of Kingsley's good standing within the department and his support of her when she was living with him and his son. We all know that any information handed over to Gomez will be shared with Officer Kingsley first, from one brother in blue to another. If he's clueless about his son, he's going to protect him. I don't want the son of a bitch to have any support."
Working with St. John's Police Department in a voluntary position searching for missing persons over the last two decades, Notus Motorcycle Club had always followed law and procedure. Often, their hands were tied. Information tied to building a case was kept from them to make sure the bad guy wouldn't walk away because he got off on some technicality. If the guilty person walked free without paying for his crime, only then would Notus Motorcycle Club step forward on their own and provide justice for the families who lost a loved one or were victimized by crime.
"Chuck, I'll take your place at the parents. I want you to go back and use the computer, make some calls if you have to, and get us an address on Evan Kingsley. Considering his family life, he won't be hard to find through our contacts." Wayne slipped his phone in his pocket. "Glen, you stay here. Once we have an address, I'll call you, and we'll go over how we'll protect Ingrid."
"You guys believe me?" Ingrid's body shook, and she looked up at Glen. "Will I be able to go home?"
He kissed her forehead. "Soon."
By morning, he hoped they'd have a location for Evan Kingsley. Once they had him secured, whether they turned him over to the police or dealt with the situation themselves, he could hand Ingrid her life back.
Wayne motioned his hand. "Come outside for a second. Thad can stay with Ingrid."
Glen kissed Ingrid and let her go. "I'll be right back."
Joining Wayne and Chuck outside, he flexed his hands, easing the tension out of his arms. Wayne had made the right call. He wanted to stay with Ingrid until more information came out. She could teeter in the opposite direction when her doubts got some foothold in her head and reality sunk in.
"Something isn't clicking." Wayne crossed his arms and kept his back toward the house. "She claims to have left Kingsley two years ago and has been surviving on her own, living on the streets, and Notus hasn't received any alert about a missing woman fitting her details. We've checked, and double checked."
Glen puckered his mouth at the onslaught of muscle spasms in his lip, stopped, and said, "Do you doubt her story?"
Wayne shook his head. "I'm keeping an open mind. We're dealing with a cop's son. That gives him more power over Heidi...Ingrid at the moment."
"I don't give a fuck who his dad is. I've seen the guy. He's an asshole that needs to be knocked down." Glen walked away, came back, and tried to keep his head.
"When did you see him?" Chuck frowned. "You never said anything."
"I didn't know until today it was him. The evening we came back from Wayne's house a guy pulled up beside me on the Harley, honking like he had a problem. He went around me and pulled over. I parked and got off my bike to find out what the deal was with the asshole, and Ingrid ran off."
"And, you think it was Evan Kingsley?" asked Wayne.
"Ingrid verified it." Glen shrugged. "She said that's why she ran when I stopped the motorcycle."
"Did you speak with him?" Chuck stepped closer.
"I asked him what his fucking problem was and he held up his hands and mumbled about thinking I was someone else. He got in his car and raced away." Glen inhaled swiftly. "If I'd known then..."
"We'll discuss what we're going to do once we locate Kingsley." Wayne swept his hair off his forehead. "If her story coincides with what we find out, we're going to need
to vote. Fucking with a cop's son doesn't sit right."
Glen clamped his teeth together, refraining from calling bullshit on any decision. He'd seen the pain behind the mask Ingrid wore. The way her body shut down. She lived on the damn streets, fiercely holding on to her morals, alone.
Considering how fragile she became when talking about her ex-boyfriend and what she'd gone through, a stiff wind could blow her over. Instead, some invisible strength unknown to him kept her standing as strong as a concrete statue.
He believed her story.
"I didn't want to mention it in front of Ingrid, but we're also dealing with a statute of limitations regarding the abuse allegations." Wayne took out his phone and tapped on the screen. "We'll have to ask someone because I don't know the law well enough to move forward without knowing what is legally possible at this time. Ingrid has enough to press Evan Kingsley with assault and battery, but there's a short time limit from when she was aware of the assault—two years ago or longer— to filing a report with authorities unless she can get a tolling to extend."
"Are you saying the guy won't be arrested for what he put her through? That justice won't be done?" Glen looked away and gazed over the rooftops across the street. "How does that protect her?"
"It doesn't," muttered Chuck.
"Like I said, I'll have to ask around about it without naming names." Wayne put his phone in his pocket. "I'd feel more comfortable if Notus returned Ingrid to her parents. That's what Notus does. We bring families back together again. It's what we're good at."
Glen turned and walked back inside. No way in hell was he going to hand her back where Evan Kingsley had access to her.
Chapter 20
The sun streamed into the bedroom. Ingrid kicked off the blanket and sat up in bed. Between phone calls taking Glen away from her, panic over what she'd done by telling Notus Motorcycle Club about Evan, and excitement over the club making it possible for her to see her parents again, she'd barely rested.
She groaned, throwing her feet off the side of the bed and straightening her back. Even sleeping on the hard, cold ground in the dead of winter with cardboard keeping the freezing temperatures off her, she'd been in better shape than she felt at the moment.
It was as if all her strength left her over the last twelve hours. She couldn't even grasp how vulnerable her decision to tell Glen everything had made her because her thoughts were bogged down and seemed out of her reach.
Glen walked into the room from the bathroom, rubbing a towel over his wet hair, and found her sitting on the bed. "I thought you'd be sleeping."
She shook her head, and the room spun. "I can't."
"Are you hungry?" He tossed the towel to the corner of the room.
"No," she said, taking in the way his hair stuck out and he combed it back with his fingers making the messy style she found sexy on him.
Bare chested with only his jeans on, Glen stood in the room, secure, confident, and seemingly unaffected by the hard night she'd put him through. She leaned her head to the side and moaned when the muscles all along her back protested.
"Are you hurting?"
She placed her hand on her lower back and arched. "A bit. I feel...weird like I'm sick, but I'm not."
A rush of air escaped Glen in amusement. "That's the whiskey I gave you through the night, hoping you would rest."
She wrinkled her nose. "I'm hungover?"
"You needed the relief." He sat on the bed beside her. "It might not feel like it now, but you slept. I don't want you passing out on me again. You need to rest, eat, and drink...water."
She leaned toward him when the mattress dipped. The thought of losing consciousness, even for a few seconds, wasn't something she wanted to repeat anytime soon.
"The others are coming over in an hour." He rubbed her back.
Her eyes closed at the immense amount of pleasure that came over her from his touch. His hand stopped. She patted his leg wanting him to continue. "I'll give you a rub if you rub my back first."
"Lay on your stomach," he said.
She opened her eyes and rolled until she was in the middle of the mattress. Glen stretched out beside her and slipped his hand under her T-shirt and rubbed his palm up and down her spine. Her stiff muscles cried in relief.
"Relax." Glen used his fingertips to massage her muscles. "You're tense."
She turned her head and watched his face. His eyes followed his hand movements on her back. His lips softened, twitched, only to relax again. The goatee he'd had when they'd first met was now a full-grown beard, longer at his chin. Her first impression of him had been right.
He had more control than anyone she'd ever met. The way he conducted himself and his sense of right and wrong were admirable. In some ways, he reminded her of her dad. A trait she hadn't realized her father possessed until she'd moved out of the house with Evan.
Glen pushed his way under her shirt to her shoulders. She bit down on her lip. God, he performed magic on her.
Seduced by his manipulation, she could no longer tell if her muscles were tense and aching from a fitful night of sleep or from the pleasure quickly overpowering her.
His fingers, rough against her skin, were unbelievably soothing. He changed tactics, and his fingernails scratched her skin lightly. She inhaled, liking the different sensations. Her skin warmed and pulsed. He moved from side to side from her shoulders down her spine.
At the base of her spine, above her butt where her sweatpants hung low, a tingle swept through her body, starting low in her stomach and spreading. She arched against his touch.
As he made another sweep over her back, she anticipated the moment he'd run his fingernails over the sensitive skin and lifted her hips, pressing her back up against his hand.
Glen's hand stayed on her lower back making slow circles. "What are you thinking?"
"I don't want you to ever stop." She pulled her arms up from her sides and folded them under her head.
"I'll keep going until you tell me otherwise." He leaned closer and kissed her lips.
His head sideways from her, his whiskers tickled her cheek. In her position, she couldn't return the kiss. That's what they always did. He kissed, then she kissed him back. He touched, then she touched him back. His leadership helped her know what was expected of her and somewhere in her head, she believed he was letting her make a choice. If she failed to return the affection, he'd stop.
She never wanted him to stop though. Raising her head, she leaned in and kissed him back. His hand hit the sweet spot on her back, and she moaned against his lips as her pelvis trembled and she wanted to turn over and have him touch the other side of her.
"Do you like that," he whispered.
She nodded, aware of the warmth between her legs.
He rolled her over and moved closer, putting his hand on her bare stomach below where her shirt had worked its way up under her breasts. She sucked in her breath. His touch was electric. Her body jolted, and she squeezed her thighs together at the onslaught of pleasure.
She'd had sex with Evan, and she wasn't naive about what men wanted. Glen's technique threw her off of what was expected of her. She was used to Evan taking and taking, never spending time on getting her hot and bothered. Anytime she expressed how much she wanted to be touched, he ended up punishing her until she no longer asked or cared or felt any pleasure. It was only one of several ways Evan controlled the life she found herself living.
Glen's fingers slipped under the edge of her bunched shirt coming in contact with the underside of her bare breasts. She held perfectly still, trying to control the desire to have him touch her nipples.
He pulled his hand back and lifted her wrist, putting her palm on his stomach. She rolled her head to the side and gazed at him as she turned to reach him better. Copying him, she made soft circles on his flat stomach. The hair on his body prickled her hand.
"I want you." He kissed her softly, opening her mouth and stroking her with his tongue.
Her hand stilled and th
en continued touching him as she adjusted to kissing and touching at the same time. He pulled back with another peck on her lips.
She whispered, repeating his words, "I want you, too."
More than wanted. She needed him.
Glen rolled on top of her, bracing his weight off her body, and stretched his arm over to the nightstand and felt around in the drawer. She tilted her head and watched him grab a condom. Excitement filled her, and she widened her legs making room for his body.
He handed her the protection. "It's your choice. You put the condom on me, and I'm going to fuck you. If you throw the condom away, I get off you, and we try again another day or night or afternoon."
Her stomach fluttered and quickly changed, making her nauseous. Why was he changing their relationship? He wanted her, and that meant it was okay to want him. He gave her a condom, that meant she could use the condom. But, he was making her go first.
"W-why do I have to put it on you?" she asked.
"Because I see how you respond to my body and how your body responds to my hands. But, I can't see how you respond in your head. You're going to have to tell me that on your own, Blue."
Her hands shook tearing the foil package open. There was no hesitation. She knew her own mind even if her body answered only to Glen. She glanced up at him, hoping he believed her. His intense, hungry gaze gave his approval, even if he wouldn't say the words.
He shifted his body and straightened on his knees. She rolled on the protection. His passion fed hers, making her feel beautiful, even though her hip bones were sharp and her ribs showed. With his attention, she remembered how it felt to be confident and pretty.
Glen's hands pushed up her shirt, exposing her breasts. The one place she hadn't lost weight, thankfully. He palmed her breasts, and she arched up into his hands. Finally, he soothed a part of her that had been teased and wanting for what seemed like weeks. She wrapped her legs around the back of his knees. The always overwhelming feeling she got around Glen urged her on.
He lowered his upper body, taking her nipple in his mouth. She braced for the pain of his teeth and was rewarded with a soft swipe of his tongue. Her body uncoiled, and warmth settled between her legs.