by Debra Kayn
"You broke her ribs. You left bruises. You threatened those she loved." He needed to egg Kingsley on. A man like him enjoyed the bragging rights. "You saw a young lady who was eager to please, and you showered her with attention until you had her exactly where you wanted her, you sick fuck."
"Ingrid loved every minute." Kingsley's voice, louder and more urgent than before, sounded closer. "She'll love it again when she comes back to me once I get rid of you. Who will protect her when you're dead? Your biker buddies? Not a chance."
"You're not getting her." Glen stopped, focusing on the spot ahead of him where he'd pinpointed Kingsley's voice.
"I've never lost her." Kingsley sighed. "It only takes one promise of what I'll do to Ingrid's folks, and she'll come with me. She'll pay for running away. She'll pay for ruining my reputation. She'll pay for being with you."
Glen put pressure on the trigger. Kingsley's agitation was beginning to show. "Turn on the fucking lights," said Glen.
He was close. Within twenty feet of Kingsley. He'd go in blind, unload his weapon.
He only had one chance.
The light came on again. Prepared, he'd focused ten feet from the source. In his peripheral vision, he could make out the outlines of Kingsley's legs before losing the rest of his body in the brightness.
"Ingrid asked for it." Evan paced beside the light.
"No, she didn't." Glen concentrated. "Have you ever killed a man before?"
"Not until tonight." Evan chuckled, the sound bounced around the empty interior.
"I have." Glen inched to the left. "Though I can understand why you'd pick on a woman. You probably think they're easier to handle."
"Shut up," snapped Evan.
Glen kept Kingsley's legs in view, hoping he'd take a few more steps. He could raise his gaze without being blinded if only Kingsley walked farther away from the spotlight.
"She was too immature to handle a relationship. I had to teach her." Evan took another step. "Women like her, like my mom, think they're better than us. They need to learn how to respect men. They don't know their place, always wanting to go somewhere and do things, until they're fucking every friend you have and laughing behind your back."
"And, you wouldn't let that happen. You beat her until you broke her." Glen braced his elbow against his side, aligning the shot, ready for Kingsley to move.
"No bitch is going to leave me. Once I kill you, I'll have her back, and the only way she'll be leaving me again is if she's dead." Kingsley stepped toward him, and the glint off the barrel of a pistol flashed in the beam of light.
Glen focused, took aim, and the door behind him banged open at the same time the report from Evan's pistol deafened him. The impact of the bullet slamming into his body kicked his knees out from under him. The air exploded in return fire. As his shoulder hit the concrete, he pulled the trigger and found he'd already emptied the clip in his pistol on Kingsley.
Fire roared in his chest. The light disappeared.
Gunshots continued without him.
Chapter 39
Mr. Hanley stood in front of the door. Ingrid paced the living room. It was after two o'clock in the morning, and Glen hadn't shown up to take her back to his house like he'd promised. Even on a search or protecting her, Notus members worked in shifts during the work week, allowing them each a few hours of sleep, before they had to return to their job at Port Loaders during the day.
"Mom, I'm going to call him from your phone?" Ingrid changed direction and picked up the landline phone. "Maybe it's my cell phone not going through."
"Your phone's working, honey. He's probably busy." Her mom approached her and reached out.
Ingrid shrugged off the contact, wanting nothing to stop her. "No, there's something wrong. He'd at least pick up my calls or call me."
Mr. Hanley cleared his throat. "He could be involved with the police because of the search. If the missing person was found, a lot of times things get hectic getting the person back to their family or to the hospital if the situation calls for it."
She shook her head, sick to her stomach. All the reasons were voiced to make her complacent, but she could tell Mr. Hanley was making excuses and her mom only wanted her to calm down.
"Maybe he decided to go home and get some rest. He knows you're safe here and this is your home." Her mom picked up a blanket off the couch and offered it to her. "Why don't you curl up in the recliner or in your bed for a couple hours? You can try calling Glen in the morning before he goes to work."
She pressed her hand to her stomach. Her whole body shook. She couldn't explain why she believed Glen needed her. She couldn't find enough energy to care what Mr. Hanley and her mom thought about her or how she was acting. His last words on the phone played on repeat in her head.
Fight for us.
Fight for us.
Fight for us.
Of course, she would fight for them, she'd been doing that from day one, but his request was made without any explanation, and then he'd disconnected the call. None of it made any sense unless he needed her. Whatever was happening tonight had him reaching out to her for support. Something he'd never done before.
He'd always taken care of her. Infallible, strong, and bossy.
"I want to go to Glen's house." She looked to Mr. Hanley. "Do you know anyone who can take me there and stay until I find out what is going on?"
Mr. Hanley's gaze softened. "My job is to keep you here, with your parents, until Notus tells me otherwise."
"Okay. Okay." She plopped down on the couch and curled her upper body, cradling her head in her hands. "I know Glen wants me to stay here."
There had to be another way to contact him. She'd exhausted leaving messages on his cell. Her head snapped up. "Do you have Wayne's phone number?"
"I have no reason to contact him." Mr. Hanley widened his stance.
God, the man was unmovable. It wasn't as if she was asking Mr. Hanley to leave her parents unprotected and go with her. She'd never do that. There had to be another way. She bit her lip. Clara lived with Wayne, who could contact Glen. She looked at her phone. Two-thirty in the morning. She groaned. Vavoom's would be closed, and Clara would be at home, and Ingrid couldn't even find her number if she looked because she didn't know Clara's last name.
She scrolled through the contacts on her phone hoping Glen had put his MC brother's numbers in the cell. Then, she checked the call log, remembering Wayne had called her before. Finding his number, she pushed connect.
The call rang. And, rang. And, rang.
"Dammit," she muttered, disconnecting when voicemail came on.
"I need to check on your dad." Her mom leaned over and kissed the top of her head. "Then, I'm going to get you some tea."
"No, mom. I don't want any tea. But...thank you. I'm sorry. I thought Glen would be here before now. I just..." I want Glen.
Her mom stroked the side of Ingrid's face. "Have faith. If Glen promised to come get you, he'll show up. Worrying won't get him here any sooner."
She nodded, hoping her mom was right. Rubbing her face, she needed to get a grip. The added stress on her mom from dealing with her wasn't helping the situation. Her mom had enough to do caring for her father.
The silence in the house heightened her anxiety. She looked over at Mr. Hanley. "I'm sorry for being demanding."
"You're concerned. I get it," said Mr. Hanley. "If it helps, it's not uncommon for the Notus members to go without sleep if a search calls for everyone to continue looking. I have helped in the past when extra hands are needed to find someone, and time slips away from you when you're concentrating on saving another person."
"You're right," whispered Ingrid, slouching on the couch.
A teenager never ran away from home because his or her life was good. There was a reason Glen wasn't with her. Her stomach rolled. She darted up from the couch and hurried to the bathroom. The contents of her stomach rebelled, and she threw up in the toilet.
Holding on to the edge of the counter, she suc
ked in air, trying to catch her breath. Why couldn't she believe everything was okay? She spent time away from Glen when she worked at Pauly's and had spent evenings by herself with only Daisy to keep her company. She could handle one night away from him.
Fight for us.
What had he meant?
She washed her face, gargled with mouthwash, and opened the bathroom door. As was her habit, she stopped in the hallway and listened. The constant hiss of her dad's oxygen assured her that he was sleeping and her mom had everything under control.
She walked toward the living room, determined to stay awake and wait for Glen when the hiss turned to a rumble and continued to grow. Stepping into the living room, she looked to Mr. Hanley who stood by the front window.
"It's Notus." Mr. Hanley turned to her and put his hands up. "Stay inside. Glen will come to you."
Her mom walked into the room. Ingrid rushed over and grabbed her mom's hands. "Glen's here. Thank you for staying up with me. Go get in bed and rest. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"
"Yes, and you relax. Take a big breath. Glen doesn't seem like a man who would want you to worry. He came for you, just like he promised." Her mom kissed both Ingrid's cheeks. "I love you."
"I love you, too." Ingrid hurried over and grabbed her purse, squealing inside.
Mr. Hanley even smiled at her, something she'd never seen him do before. She waited at the door, bouncing on her toes. All night, she'd worried for nothing.
The anticipated knock came. Mr. Hanley looked through the peephole and unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door. Ingrid lunged forward and stopped at the sight of Wayne standing outside the house.
Wayne's intense expression distracted her from seeing Thad and Chuck standing behind him right away. She looked at each biker. Wayne had blood down the front of his shirt. Thad's hands were coated dark red, almost black. Chuck looked away from her.
Her heart raced, and she looked through the broad shoulders for Glen. "Where is—?"
"Can we come in?" asked Wayne.
Her mom grabbed Ingrid's shoulders from behind and pulled her back out of the doorway. Her pulse pounded, echoing in her ears. She planted her feet not wanting to sit down. Glen was supposed to take her back to his house. He would come for her unless something happened.
Her gaze went over Glen's MC brothers again. She reached out for her mom. "Wh-what happened? Where is Glen?"
Wayne stepped up to her. "Ingrid, there's no easy way to say this. Glen's at St. John's Hospital. He's been shot. We don't know all the details or his condition yet."
She covered her throat with her hand. "What do you mean he was shot?"
"He's in bad shape." Wayne inhaled swiftly. "He's at the hospital..."
The men floated in front of her, and she could no longer hear any voices. She leaned into her mom, unable to draw air into her lungs. "He's alive?"
"He was when the paramedics put him in the ambulance, but it isn't looking good." The skin around Wayne's eyes tightened. "It's been almost five hours since I heard he went into surgery. Lieutenant Gomez contacted Glen's parents. They're at the hospital now."
"Five hours ago?" She swallowed. "Why didn't anyone come sooner?"
Wayne glanced at the others. "We were at the police department being questioned. We came here as soon as possible. Glen, well, he'd want you to know."
She stepped forward. "I need to go to the hospital."
"We can take you," said Wayne.
Ingrid's mom grabbed her arm. "Take my car. You're in no condition to ride on the back of a motorcycle."
"I can drive her in your car and leave my bike here." Chuck looked at the others. "We have to be back at the P.D. at nine o'clock. I can bring Ingrid back here at that time, pick up my bike, and meet everyone there."
The police. Questioned. Shot. Glen.
There were too many details she couldn't follow. All she wanted was to get to the hospital and see Glen and make sure he was going to be okay. He had to be okay.
After getting the keys from her mom, handing them to Chuck, and going in the garage, Ingrid buckled herself into the passenger seat. She'd known something was wrong. Her mom and Mr. Hanley thought she'd acted unreasonable, but she knew.
Fight for us.
Glen had known there was a chance of him being shot. That had to be why he said she had to fight for both of them.
She stared straight ahead out the windshield. Numbed from the news, she tried to piece together the fractured conversations she'd heard between Glen and the Notus members before last night. Glen had spoken of a plan. Deep in her heart, she'd known that Glen wanted Evan dead and would do anything to protect her. His honor toward her was one of the many reasons she'd fallen in love with him. She should've known. She should've done more to stop him.
"Evan Kingsley shot Glen, didn't he?" she asked.
Chuck turned at the intersection. "Yes."
She looked at Chuck. "Is Evan dead?"
"Yeah, he is," said Chuck.
She closed her eyes at the onslaught of emotions battling in her. None of them included Evan. She was glad he was dead.
Chapter 40
Mr. and Mrs. Steele sat in front of the window in the waiting room on the second floor of St. John's Hospital. Ingrid sat across from them in one of the hard-plastic chairs. She'd been introduced to them in the middle of the night, and Glen's father had hugged her. It was Mr. Steele's hug that broke the dam of tears she'd held back.
Mr. Steele was an older version of Glen in looks, height, and personality. It was his quiet acceptance of her as Glen's girlfriend from the minute she walked into the hospital that gave her strength to sit, wait, and pray.
The doctor informed them that Glen had lost a lot of blood. They'd worked feverishly to fix the three bullet wounds. One in his spleen, which they removed. One in his stomach, which they repaired. One that went through the side of his abdomen, missing any vital organs, but exited out of his back.
That information came two hours ago, and Glen remained unconscious.
Wayne, Chuck, and Thad, who were told by police after questioning not to leave town, had left the hospital at seven o'clock to clean up and meet the detective in charge of the case, leaving her in Mr. and Mrs. Steele's capable hands, though she no longer needed protection. Evan was dead.
"What is taking so long?" whispered Mrs. Steele.
The tall, slim older woman had rushed to the hospital wearing her house slippers. Glen's dad had on no socks, and years ago his tennis shoes had probably been white, but now were stained green as if he'd grabbed his lawn-mowing shoes in his rush to the hospital.
Mr. Steele put his arm around his wife. "It's probably good that he's sleeping. He'll need the strength to recuperate."
Glen wasn't only sleeping. He wasn't waking up. There was a difference. The doctor wasn't sure he would wake up. He called the problem Hemorrhagic Shock. Glen had lost so much blood that his heart stopped on the operating table, and he needed to be resuscitated.
During post-op, they were monitoring Glen's organs, giving him another blood transfusion, and watching him closely. Ingrid rubbed her dry, burning eyes. Until then, they had to wait to see him.
"I'm going to walk down the hallway and see if I can find a cup of coffee." Mr. Steele stood. "Would you like a cup, Ingrid?"
She shook her head. "No, but thank you for asking."
"I'm going to walk with you and find the little girl's room." Mrs. Steele held up her hand and let her husband pull her out of the chair. "Would you like to go with us?"
"I'm going to stay here, in case the doctor comes back out." She mustered a weak smile. Glen's parents were kind and hiding their concern for their son out of being polite toward her. She suspected they were walking away as an excuse to have privacy and let their worries out.
Alone in the waiting room, Ingrid leaned forward and cradled her pounding head. Glen wanted her to fight for both of them, but all she could think about was if she hadn't met him, he wouldn't be fighting for his life righ
t now.
She couldn't lose him. They had many more highs and lows to go through.
The mix of sickness and artificial lemon aroma failed to hide the everlasting scent of formaldehyde lingering in the air and reminding her of all the times she'd sat in the same waiting room scared to death that her dad would die after his accident. The air in the room suffocated her.
Despair and regret slowly broke her heart. She sat up and fanned her overheated face. In such a short time, Glen had become the most important person in her life. She couldn't lose him. She loved him.
Footsteps entered the room. Ingrid looked over her shoulder, found two policemen in uniform, and got woozy. For a second, she thought Stewart Kingsley had come to blame her for his son's death. Instead, it was Lieutenant Gomez and another policeman.
"Ms. Peterson." Lieutenant Gomez removed his hat. "Is there any news on Glen?"
She shook her head. "He's out of surgery, and now we're waiting."
The lieutenant looked around the bare room. She said, "Mr. and Mrs. Steele are here, too. They stepped out for a moment."
Both policemen occupied the chairs Glen's parents had vacated. She hugged her middle. Were they going to arrest Glen for the murder of Evan if he woke up?
She had no idea how Glen ended up shot or how Evan died. It was obvious that Notus Motorcycle Club was involved. The other members had been questioned twice by the police.
Fight for us.
She straightened her back. "Nobody can see him until the doctor gives his okay. Even his parents are waiting."
There was no way she'd allow them to arrest Glen or send him to prison. They had no idea what it was like to live with Evan or what the man was capable of. Allegations on paper weren't the same as feeling the pain, humiliation, and fear she'd gone through. Glen obviously had his reasons for going after Evan, and until he woke up, she'd make sure no one bothered him.
"We understand." Lieutenant Gomez cleared his throat. "It might not seem like it at the moment, but I respect Glen. He's done a lot of good work in finding missing persons. I'm only here as a friend, checking up on him."