by Debra Kayn
One was available to him. The other was practically jailbait.
The front door opened and Ingrid's mom stepped outside. Glen noted the heartbreak in the puffiness around the woman's eyes and the haunted look. He'd seen the scars of losing a missing loved one on many families over the years. Her pain was no less because she'd had to deal with the worry, the fear, the anger in the matter of a couple of hours.
"Ingrid told us what you've done for her. What you've done for the community working with the police to help find missing persons." Anna leaned against the house beside him and hugged her middle. "We can't thank you enough for bringing her home."
"It's what I do," he said.
A huff of breath expelled from Anna. "I'd like to kill Evan," she said, her voice vibrating with emotion. "For two years he had us believing we were communicating with our daughter. He took her dreams and made them a reality for us. We couldn't have been happier for her, getting the schooling to support herself in doing something she loves. It makes me sick to think about what she went through all alone and that she never came to us for help. What did I do wrong that my own daughter wouldn't think I'd help her?"
"From what she's said to me, Evan made threats against you and your husband. She believed she was protecting you," he said softly. "If I know anything, fear changes a person. We all make choices from the emotions we feel, and everyone reacts differently. It's not wrong, just different."
"Like wanting to kill Evan," she whispered.
He nodded in understanding and agreement. In his life, he'd made choices based on emotions. When Thalia was kidnapped and murdered, he was Ingrid's age. He had no understanding why he was feeling the way he was toward the killer, and his anger consumed him. As it had with all of the Notus Motorcycle Club members, especially Rich.
"I suspect Ingrid's desire to protect you and your husband made her strong. In her heart, your love is what kept her alive." He swallowed the broken bits of sunflower shells and relished in the discomfort. He deserved much more. "She had to be strong to survive living on the streets."
"She's always been protective of her father. He was her world before the accident, and when he got hurt, she took responsibility for him. As if she alone could keep him alive." Anna dashed a tear from her cheek. "It wasn't what he was going through physically. She worried about what he was going through mentally, even at a young age. She made sure he had a reason to wake up every day."
He remained quiet, letting Ingrid's mom talk through her worries and try to come to terms with what she'd learned. Not a parent himself, he couldn't imagine what her mom or dad would feel like knowing their grown baby could've died or that Ingrid had taken the role of parent to protect her mom and dad.
"I’m her mom. How could I not know what she was going through?" whispered Anna. "I should've felt that she needed me, and I believed..."
"You believed what Evan made you believe." Glen looked out to the street. He also had believed what Ingrid wanted him to believe.
"I should go inside." Anna straightened, wiped her face, and lifted her chin, turning toward Glen. "I don't know how we'll ever thank you enough for what you've done. Can I write you a check and pay you for your time and letting her stay with you? She mentioned that you fed and clothed her, besides keeping her safe over the last few weeks. Just supporting her when she had nobody is worth everything we own and more."
"That's not necessary. Notus Motorcycle Club never takes money for searching for missing persons, and Ingrid found me. She made my job easier." He held out his hand, unashamed that inside he trembled and was unable to hide the tremor in his hand.
Anna glanced at the offer of a handshake and hugged him instead. "Thank you."
He patted her back. "I'm glad she's home."
Anna backed away nodding, barely holding it together and the front door opened. Ingrid stepped outside, looked at Glen and then her mom. "I settled dad into the bed. He couldn't keep his eyes open. I also put the oxygen on him."
"I'll go sit with him." Anna glanced at Glen. "Should you be out here? Is it safe?"
"I'll make sure she comes back in." Glen put his hands in his vest pockets. "I need to take off, but another member will keep an eye on the house and block for you until everyone has adjusted and we know Ingrid is as safe as she can be."
Anna nodded, reminding him of Ingrid, and went into the house. He looked at Ingrid and fisted his hands, hidden in his pockets. She could barely keep her swollen, red-rimmed eyes open. Her homecoming had worn her out.
"Are you doing okay?" he asked.
She blew out her breath and shrugged. "I don't know."
"It'll take time to adjust." He gazed out to the street. "I take it, you're staying."
She had to go back to her former life. He couldn't take her home with him, no matter if she believed staying with her parents wouldn't work out. The age difference alone was enough to make him keep his hands off her. He couldn't lend her support or keep in contact with her. To let her believe they could continue their relationship would only hurt her more.
Ingrid pinched the skin at the base of her neck. "I wasn't expecting my dad to deteriorate so fast while I was gone. Before I left, he was able to slide his arms a few inches on his wheelchair. Now he's lost all movement and needs oxygen when he lays down. My mom has had to shoulder everything, and I came home and added to her stress."
"She's strong, like her daughter." He stepped back. "I need to get going, Bl—"
Going cold turkey sucked.
Ingrid frowned, waiting for him to say more. He glanced at the window with the drapes shut. "You should get inside. Stay home for a while until we know what Kingsley is going to do. One of the Notus members will check in on you later and keep you updated. You also have my number. If you need anything, give me a call, and I'll have someone help you."
"Glen?" She stepped forward. "Why are acting like you're not coming back here to see me?"
He pulled out the key to his motorcycle. "I need to get going. I'm already late. I need to give Wayne a call, and then when Chuck or Thad come to take over here, I want to keep an eye on Kingsley."
Her eyes filled with tears. "Can I at least have a hug?"
His chest ached. She'd never once asked for anything from him, always preferring to have him take the lead. Finally, her need for comfort was bigger than her need to connect with him.
"It's best you go back inside. I need to ride to the end of the block and take watch." He pivoted and walked to his motorcycle, listening for the door to close, making sure she was safe and went inside.
He sat on his Harley, revved the engine to life, and slipped his helmet on. Ingrid continued to stand outside. He lifted his hand.
She turned and walked back into the house.
He rode to the end of the block, still in view of the house, but far enough away he could stop himself from going back to her. After talking to Wayne and waiting for Chuck to arrive, he took off.
Across town, he pulled into Wayne's driveway, craving a bottle of whiskey, and knowing he wouldn't drink until Evan Kingsley paid for what he'd done to Ingrid.
He knocked on the front door out of respect for Clara living with Wayne, and when she answered, he walked straight to the garage whistling the whole way. Thad leaned back in a chair, teetering on two legs, in front of the desk where Wayne sat.
He wasted no time. "Fill me in."
"In a second." Thad stood. "Did you get Heidi, I mean, Ingrid all settled?"
"Yeah." He crossed his arms. "When it's your turn to protect her, you should know that you'll be protecting two women inside the house, plus Ingrid's dad is a quadriplegic. Keep that in mind if something goes down."
"Sad deal." Thad exhaled and sat back down. "I'll take care of them all."
Glen turned to Wayne. "Fill me in on Rich. I need to get out there and track down Kingsley."
"We've got an address." Wayne put his feet on the floor. "Thirty miles north of Seattle."
"He's living there?" asked Glen.
<
br /> "It's a bar." Thad linked his hands behind his head and stretched his legs out. "We have the option to go up there ourselves and drag his ass home or let the investigator make contact."
Glen rubbed his hand over his mouth. "Fuck him. Rich had a choice. He chose to leave. There's no use bringing him back to a place he doesn't want to be."
"Who pissed on your bike tires?" Wayne shook his head. "We're talking about Rich. Our brother."
And, he was talking about himself and his relationship with Ingrid. He popped two sunflowers in his mouth. "Do whatever makes you feel better. I got shit to do."
He walked out of the garage and to his motorcycle. Chuck had Ingrid covered. Wayne and Thad could bullshit about how Rich needed to come back. While everyone was busy, he had a job to do. Nobody was going to distract him. Not Ingrid. Not Notus. Not Rich.
Chapter 25
Parked across the street from the Piedmont Apartments, Glen sat sideways at the curb on his Harley and kept an eye on the red Pontiac and the door of apartment 217. Evan Kingsley was home. He'd verified his presence with the information he had upon arrival.
He hoped the son of a bitch would try to get past him. He could show the asshole what it felt like to hurt a smaller, weaker, younger woman.
A familiar rumble came over the traffic noises behind him. Glen spit out the empty sunflower seeds. He didn't have to look to know Wayne was parking alongside him.
Wayne shut off the Harley. "Anything?"
"Nope." Glen remained on his bike. "He arrived home a couple of hours ago and hasn't come out. I suspect once he hears from dear ol' Dad that Ingrid has made a record of the abuse and filed it with the P.D., he'll make an appearance."
Wayne leaned forward and braced his forearms on the handlebar. "We need to talk about what your plans are because whatever you do will affect all of us. Notus Motorcycle Club will be included. We're spread thin right now watching Kingsley and Ingrid. If a missing person request comes in, we'll be even more spread out. I can talk to the others after you decide what you would like to see happen. You know the drill. If one of us disagrees, we'll put it up for a vote."
More times over the years than he could count, they'd had to vote on how to handle the drawbacks of searching for missing persons. A rapist who walked away because of a technicality. A serial killer who needed to be stopped. While they worked in partnership with the police department and privately for the families of those missing a loved one, sometimes the judicial system failed society. That's where Notus stepped up and away from the law and created another link tightening the brotherhood by serving their own justice.
"I don't know yet," he said.
"As much as I hate to admit it, none of us have seen Evan do a damn thing wrong. Ingrid's story is her version. There's no record of her calling the police previously during any of the abuse, and you know as well as I do that anyone can walk into the P.D. and make a formal report about anything. We're not dealing with a motherfucker with no family. Evan's father wears a badge, which means he's got the support of the department. If there are questions, they're not going to get swept under the fucking rug." Wayne paused as one of the tenants walked out to her car. "But, bro, I get it. It hasn't been that long ago since I dealt with Clara and Gracie's situation. Ingrid's safety is our top priority."
Wanting to avoid making a decision regarding Kingsley, Glen said, "Do you think that guy in Seattle really knows how to contact Rich?"
"That's what he said." Wayne ground the heel of his boot against the asphalt, taking Glen's change in subjects in stride. "If there's a chance he's living there, we need to go to him. If one of us were missing, Rich would come."
"Would he?" Glen rubbed his mouth and looked away. "Have the detective make contact with Rich. There's my vote. I can't take time away right now riding off on some wild goose chase. We're all going to have to return to work on Monday, except Kingsley who has the day off. It leaves Ingrid unprotected. Can you contact Hanley? He'd be able to protect her. I'll pay out of my own pocket."
"I'll contact him, and we'll settle how to hire him later, as a club," said Wayne.
Hanley was ex-military. Trained as a sniper and a fucking good man. He'd lost his niece to domestic violence and helped out occasionally on missing person cases if they needed more feet on the ground.
"Will you fucking talk to me?" muttered Wayne. "What's going on with you. Your head is all over the damn place."
Glen exhaled loudly. "Not much to say."
"Is this about Ingrid?"
"It can't be about her." Glen stood beside his bike. "Remember Gunnar Peterson?"
"That's Ingrid's dad." Wayne shrugged. "What about him?"
"Remember the guy about ten or twelve years ago who was from St. John's and got in a vehicle accident. His injuries paralyzed him, and the community stepped up to help with the expenses he'd need for his recovery. I think even Vavoom's had a jar by the cash register for a while."
"Yeah, wasn't he the football coach at the high school?"
Glen nodded. "He also graduated two years ahead of us."
"You're saying that guy in the accident is Gunnar Peterson?"
"Yep." He tapped the toe of his boot against the curb, unable to wait until Wayne put two and two together. When Wayne remained quiet, Glen said, "Which makes Ingrid twenty years old."
"We never ran a background on her name, just her parents, after she told us what had happened. I thought she was older...the whole crew cut thing going on and living on the street..." Wayne raised his brows. "I never would've thought she was that young."
"Me, neither." He shook his head. "In my head, I believed she was twenty-seven years old like her fake I.D showed. She sure in the hell never confessed to her real age when she told us what was going on."
Wayne studied him and finally asked, "Where's that leave you?"
"Far away from her." Glen gritted his teeth. "I'm forty-three years old."
"Did you fuck her?"
That wouldn't be how he'd describe sex between him and Ingrid. Glen gritted his teeth. "Yep."
"Damn."
Logic told him the moment he walked into her house and brought her back to her parents, whatever had happened between him and Ingrid was over. Learning her age should've wiped out any attraction he had toward her. The disgust at himself should've been enough to cut his feelings off instantly and push him back into the role of her protector.
But, none of that happened. He still couldn't look at her without wanting her. Some primal need to have her by his side burned fast and hard.
The front door of Kingsley's apartment opened, and Evan stepped out, locking the door behind him. Glen turned and sat on his bike.
"Kingsley's moving," he said.
Wayne lifted his hand out to the side, stopping him. "We need your plan, bro."
To kill the son of a bitch. To string him up and torment him for two years the way he had Ingrid.
Instead, he said, "Watch and wait."
Ingrid was right when she said Evan was smart. He wouldn't go looking for her immediately. The son of a cop would first meet with his father and plant doubt in Ingrid's story. Because Ingrid had stopped Evan in his tracks from doing any more abuse that could be reported, he'd need to grow his support while becoming more devious about his plan of attack. He was confident that Kingsley's next move would be his last.
And, when Kingsley made his move. Glen would be there to stop him.
Chapter 26
The spicy, bold aroma of chili filled the kitchen in the Peterson house. Ingrid lifted her spoon, breaking the string of melted cheese against the side of the bowl, and took another bite. It was her second helping for the evening and one of the comfort foods she remembered growing up.
She wiped her mouth off on the paper napkin. "How long will Dad sleep?"
"Oh, he'll be out for the night." Ingrid's mom set another stack of soda crackers on the table.
Ingrid waved off the extras and sighed when her mom moved the plate closer. Since yeste
rday, her mom had made it her mission to feed her the contents in the kitchen, concerned for her health because of all the weight she'd lost while being homeless.
"It's only six thirty." She set down her spoon and lowered her voice. "How much worse is he?"
"Your dad is fine," said her mom. "Eat up."
"He's using the oxygen all the time when he's laying down now. Has the doctor tested his diaphragm?"
"Yes." Her mom stood from the table and opened the fridge. "Do you want more milk or I have some grape juice made?"
"No, mom. I don't need anything." She ran her hand over her short hair that her mom kept trying not to look at. "Please, tell me what the doctor has said about the setbacks."
When her dad's accident happened, they'd hoped for the best and were hit with a view of their reality. They were able to get to know patients in physical therapy at all ranges of paralysis. Some got better, some declined. There was never any hope her father would improve. They only hoped to slow down the damage. Losing the ability to breathe would mean he'd eventually need a tracheostomy. He was already on a liquid diet which was fed through a feeding tube because he had difficulty swallowing even the thinnest of blended food.
"They give him about six months until he'll need a tube." Her mom sat down. "He'll be all right."
She'd heard how all right he'd be since she was eight years old. No matter how optimistic her mother had made their home life, she couldn't hide the truth. Even as a young girl, Ingrid understood the big words, the big whispers, the big unspoken fears.
Stepping away from the table, she rinsed off her bowl and put it in the dishwasher. Having proof of how much had happened in two years depressed her. She'd lived each day surviving, away from the comfort of her family. To her, nothing was supposed to change at home.
Fear had been a constant in her life while on her own, and every hour she remained alive motivated her to stay that way. Food in her belly had her feeling blessed. All of that was manageable because she knew her parents were safe from Evan's anger.