Chapter 36

––––––––

Wayne, Thad, and Chuck sat on their motorcycles in the lot, ready to start work at Port Loaders. Glen swooped around and rolled to a stop in perfect alignment for a quick exit. One call from Ingrid during the next eight hours and he'd use comp time to leave.

He shut off the engine. "Anything?"

"No sight of him." Thad hung his helmet on the handlebar. "Kingsley knows we're watching and between the three of us on his ass while you're covering Ingrid, Evan's decided to lay low."

Glen checked his phone. "There's an hour until he's due to work. I'll call during my first break and find out if he showed up. If he's there, I plan on going once the air horn blows to pick him up as he walks to his car."

Wayne swung his leg off the Harley and stood. "I want all of us with you. We go in as a club and walk out together."

The five-minute start air horn blasted. Glen looked at his phone one more time, assuring himself that Ingrid was taken care of by Pauly, and her boss would also call if there were any threats.

He fell into line between Wayne and Thad with Chuck behind him. "I need somewhere for Ingrid to go once she's off work until I finish with Kingsley. Since Hanley's protecting the Petersons, I'm going to call him later and find out if he thinks he can handle watching Ingrid until the job is over."

"Why the hesitation?" Thad stopped a few feet away from the line of workers at the security gate.

"Ingrid." He lowered his voice and turned his back to his coworkers and addressed his MC brothers. "She knows something is up."

"You told her?" Wayne shook his head. "Fuck, man..."

"No, but she's paying attention. Twice this morning, she asked about what plan I was talking about last night with you guys." Glen scooped a few sunflowers from his pocket and popped them in his mouth, pushing the seeds to his cheek. "I don't trust her to stay put where I tell her to stay if she believes I'm in trouble. All Evan Kingsley needs to do is threaten someone she loves, or if she feels her parents will be safer without her, she'll react before thinking. I'll need to make sure Hanley understands that he'll need to hold her there."

Chuck moved in closer. "She's young. I'm sure Hanley knows how immature females act. We've searched for hundreds of them, and he's helped us enough times to know. Girls are impulsive, and their bad decisions get them in situations they're not ready to handle."

"Not Ingrid." Glen cracked a shell between his teeth. This whole time, not one of his MC brothers had confronted him about having a relationship with someone twenty years old. Until now.

"Bro..." Thad raised his brows. "Don't ignore the obvious."

"Fuck off." Glen pointed at Thad's chest. "This has nothing to do with her age."

Wayne stuck out his hand, stopping the conversation. "Until we see what you see in her, you need to let us know how to deal with the situation."

The muscle in Glen's lip spasmed, and he willingly took responsibility for Ingrid. It'd be easier for everyone if he dealt with Kingsley himself, but he was glad for the club's support. If shit went south, it'd take all of them to get their asses out of there and stay alive and not get arrested and sent to prison.

The final air horn blared as Glen swiped his card through the scanner. All four Notus members separated going to their foremen for the daily cries sheet. He skipped the normal bullshit session with his coworkers as the work day started and jumped right into moving his first car onto the deck of the ship to spray the undercoating on the vehicle.

He exited the car, put the mask over his face, and waved his hand for the painters to do their job. During the five minutes of spray time, he loosened his jaw and relaxed his mouth. If he failed to get control of himself, there would be no justice brought down on Kingsley.

For as long as he remembered, he'd fought for control. He tried to hide the muscle damage from the surgery on his lip. Not that it bothered him, but from an early age, he'd discovered that others focused on the twitching. It wasn't the added attention, but his inability to control his own body that had him finding ways to move his lips to camouflage the odd movement—which came more frequently when he was tense, or his adrenaline ran high.

Because the damaged muscle was out of his control, he chose to develop habits such as whistling, lipping a toothpick, smoking, chewing, breaking sunflower seeds. When he became addicted to the habit, he quit cold turkey, enjoying the struggle to break something he could control. Over and over, habits kept his mind busy and off the never-ending muscle spasms.

"Clear." The painter pulled back the air hose. "Turn on the dryer."

Glen ripped off the mask and tossed it in the garbage can. He walked over to the wall and typed into the laptop used to record the cries.

"Hey, Steele. Ever think of teaching Shaw how to use a computer?" The day-shift foreman tossed another key at him.

He caught the cardboard tag on the ring and put the key in his pocket. "Good luck there. Wayne's set in his ways."

The thirty-second timer went off on the dryer. Glen opened the car door and slid into the driver's seat. The undercoating now in place to protect the car from the salt in the air as it was shipped overseas.

The guide pointed to the top deck of the ship. After three sharp turns, he pulled onto the ramp, followed the markers, and reversed into the allotted parking spot. Wrapping his fingers around the edge of the door to protect the paint, he slipped out and walked the loop around the deck to start the process all over again.

He'd parked three brand-new vehicles on the ship headed out of the country when the air horn went off signaling the first ten-minute break of the day. On the top deck, he walked over to the rail and took out his phone. He'd left it on vibrate while he worked despite the no-personal-cell-phone rule. Nothing would stop him from answering if Ingrid needed him.

He called her. She answered after the first ring. "Hello."

"Hey, Blue."

"I was going to call you earlier, but Pauly said I shouldn't bother you because it wasn't an emergency but it feels like it's important and —"

"Ingrid?" He paused, letting her catch her breath. "What?"

"You'd tell me if you have something planned, right?" she asked.

"What kind of plans?" He leaned against the railing and looked down at the public walkway. "Like who is going to pick you up after work?"

"No, it's more important than that, and it doesn't feel right when you don't give me a straight answer." She lowered her voice. "Do you plan on going after Evan, cause last night I got the feeling that you and Notus Motorcycle Club have decided you're done protecting my parents and me? I need to tell you if that's what you're planning, it's a bad idea."

The cords in his neck tightened and he tilted his head side to side. "What are you talking about?"

"You know." The connection on the cell became muffled. "Don't. Do. Anything."

An older woman pushing a shopping cart along the trail along the riverbank stopped beside a garbage can chained to a post. She reached down inside the hole in the top and rummaged through the bin. He inhaled deeply struck angry knowing it wasn't that long ago that the homeless woman could've been Ingrid. Had she gone through the garbage looking for food? A pop can to recycle for the five cent return? Cardboard to stay warm?

"No worries, Blue.  I called because we got a call to help out on a search for a missing teenager after work." He rubbed his hand over his face and turned his back to the homeless woman below and continued to lie. "I'm going to pick you up at Pauly's and take you to your parents' house. Hanley will be there to watch over you."

"Oh..." She hesitated. "Okay. Yes, you need to help the family find their child. I'll call my mom and let her know to expect me. She can tell Mr. Hanley."

"I'll call Hanley." He looked down at the ramp. "Listen, my break is over. I'll call you during lunch. Everything going okay there?"

"Yeah. I sold a bike, and there's been a steady stream of renters coming in."

"Good." He walked to the ramp. "Stay close to Pauly."

"I am."

"Talk to you later." He disconnected the call and called Hanley. The ex-military man's conversation stayed short and to the point. After solidifying the plan to drop Ingrid at her parents after work, he slipped his phone back in his pocket.

Chuck jogged over. "What's up?"

"Everything is set up." He wiped his forehead on his shirt. "While I'm taking Ingrid to her parents after work, I'll need everyone to head to Beaverton. I don't want Evan slipping by us. Keep him in sight, and I'll join you as soon as I can."

"Will do." Chuck slapped Glen's back and jogged off in the opposite direction.

All he had to do was make sure Ingrid and her parents made it through the day. He'd take care of the rest. And then finally, Ingrid could go on with the life she deserved to live.