Chapter 24

Glen leaned against the side of the brick house, giving Ingrid privacy to console her mom and dad. She hadn't sugarcoated any of the hardships she'd survived. There were things he'd learned about her time on the streets that'd shocked him.

Hearing about how she'd watched other homeless people die. The chances she took washing her clothes and body in the river when she couldn't find shelter or find enough beer cans from rummaging in the dumpsters to afford the few dollars she needed. He grabbed a few more sunflowers out of his pocket and put them in his mouth, breaking the shells all at once into a mush because he couldn't control his lip twitching when he no longer had control over the situation.

There were men everywhere who were as evil as Evan, and Ingrid had learned to run, dodge, and hide, keeping herself safe from them.

She suffered on her own, because of a strong sense of self-respect that her parents had instilled in her that Evan couldn't kill. Ingrid never weakened and took the easy way out. She relied on no one while homeless and had turned down drugs, selling herself, working for others, even though she had every reason to try and numb the pain inside her.

He inhaled an unsteady breath. It was the things she refused to say that impacted him the most and had him walking out to compose himself before he punched a wall.

He could only imagine her trust in human beings, whether female or male, was at an all-time low. And, yet, she'd trusted him. It took her awhile, and she might not fully understand what she'd done when they'd had sex, but she'd given him something he could now see as impossible.

He'd walked into her parents' house, blind to her life, and found out the truth. The pain in his gut increased. The promise he'd made to continue their relationship when things settled down could no longer happen.

He couldn't stay in her life.

He'd need to leave her alone.

"Ah, Blue," he muttered. "What have I done?"

The bottom of his world dropped out seeing the picture on the mantle of Ingrid—who he hadn't recognized at first— in a cap and gown with the date of her high school graduation date embossed in the corner of the picture. She'd graduated two years ago. Not from college. Fucking high school. She wasn't even old enough to legally drink.

Sweat broke out across his forehead.

In the picture, Ingrid had been about thirty pounds heavier. A gorgeous girl with long straight blonde hair, an infectious smile with the excitement of youth and the prospect of turning into an adult. Her life had only begun.

He squeezed his eyes closed. Last night, he'd fucked her.

Hitting the back of his head against the brick, he opened his eyes. Then, her dad rolled into the room in a wheelchair and the last thread of decency he had left was kicked out of him. Caught up in helping Ingrid, her father's name never stood out as familiar. But, the wheelchair reminded him that he knew Gunnar Peterson.

Gunnar was two grades ahead of him way back in his high school days. Glen blew out his breath, but nothing would ease the tension strung tight in his chest. They never ran with the same crowd, and back then, he had nothing to do with the jocks. But, he remembered the vehicle accident that rocked St. John's ten or twelve years ago that left a man paralyzed.

"Jesus H. Christ," he mumbled.

He was forty-three damn years old. Ingrid was twenty. He knew she was young, but he went off her fake identity that stated she was twenty-seven years old. There was a big difference between twenty and twenty-seven.

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.

"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.