Chapter 38

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A Cyclone fence, downed in spots, surrounded an abandoned building resembling an airplane hanger provided shelter for Evan Kingsley. Glen peered into the darkness, taking in several wooden eight-foot climbing walls erected one after another to the left of the building.

"Are you sure Kingsley's in there?" Glen asked.

"We watched him take his car off the road and enter through a downed gate on the east side. He parked at the back of the building." Wayne picked up a metal sign that used to hang on the fence and turned it around to Glen.

Property of St. John's Police Department. Not open to the public.

Trespassers will be prosecuted.

"I remember the place," said Glen.

Years ago, the building used to be used by the police academy. It'd been at least ten years since the facility closed. With budget cuts, the cadet training merged with the class taught by the Portland Police and took place in the city.

"He could be anywhere inside." Chuck walked twenty feet along the fence and returned. "If it's like the new academy, there will be situation modulars inside for training practices."

Glen turned away from the building. Marine Drive ran parallel to the property. There were no other buildings, homes, businesses in sight. Ever since learning why Ingrid ran, he'd pictured Kingsley staying in public view. To pick such a private spot made no sense. Kingsley had no reason to hide, considering the report Ingrid made with the P.D. wasn't worth shit.

Unless Kingsley needed privacy because he believed he could get rid of Notus Motorcycle Club and get rid of those stopping him from reaching Ingrid.

"I'm going in." Glen turned back around. "Run through what will happen."

"We're entering private property." Wayne undid the front of his leather vest.

Glen rubbed his tongue against his upper lip. "So, is Kingsley. That doesn't give him the upper hand. He'd be charged with trespassing, too, if something goes wrong."

Thad removed a pair of bolt cutters out of the duffle on the back of his Harley. "There could be cameras. Regardless of the state of the building, the city still owns the place. They'd protect their investment."

Glen swept his gaze along the length of the building. It was too dark to see any type of security from two hundred feet away. "There's a fifty percent chance the place is wired to an automatic system. It'd take at least twenty-four hours for the tapes to be viewed if the cameras worked. If I remain alert to the normal areas where there could be working cameras, I can keep the actual crime of getting ahold of Kingsley from showing."

It was a gamble.

He had a fifty percent chance of being wrong.

He couldn't risk the lives of his MC brothers.

Glen reached into his pocket, removed a few sunflower seeds, and popped them in his mouth. "I need a favor."

Wayne, Thad, and Chuck nodded. They'd sworn to support each other as long as they wore the Notus patch, but their lifelong bond of being friends made them more than club members.

"Take care of Ingrid and her parents. Make sure they remain safe and shelter her from the things she'll hear about me." He pulled his pistol out of his shoulder holster and flicked his thumb over the safety. "I need to know Notus will be there for them."

"Fuck," muttered Wayne. "Don't do it, brother. Let us come up with something else."

Calm washed over Glen, and he looked to his president, his best friend, his brother. Wayne had found the reason for living in Clara. He wouldn't be the one who took that gift away.

"This is bullshit," said Thad. "We never go it alone. We go in as a club and come out as a club. That's the way it's always been. It's the way it's supposed to be."

He wouldn't take the others down with him. Not this time. If things went to shit and they all ended up in prison, no one would be on the outside. Ingrid would need support. Clara and Gracie needed Wayne. Thad and Chuck needed to find Rich before they lost their MC brother completely.

Chuck stared him down. If any one of them were in his place, they'd do what had to be done.

Alone with the men he trusted, he said, "I need her."

His admission came easily once the confession was out in the open. No matter how fucked up his reasons for not hiding his intent to kill Evan Kingsley, his freedom was worth it if Ingrid was safe and the crimes against her were paid.

Wayne pulled on his beard and looked away. "Call or cover?"

"Call." Glen patted the patch over his heart on his vest.

The others shook their heads. They might not like the decision, but they'd have his back. Their silence gave him the vote.

He wanted law enforcement called to pick up Kingsley's body when he finished and he, alone, would take responsibility for killing him. With Evan being a son of a cop, Glen wanted no chance of something going wrong. By the end of the night, Kingsley would be out of Ingrid's life permanently.

Thad stepped up to the chain linking the gate to the fence, and using the bolt cutters, snipped through the barrier. Glen grabbed his flashlight out of his bag on his Harley, pushed the gate open, and walked through alone. Notus Motorcycle Club stayed behind to fulfill their promise.

Glen veered to the left, heading for the end of the building where he suspected there was a door. A jet flew overhead taking off from PDX a few miles down the road. The force of the jets muffled any noise coming from the inside of the building. In the dark, he was within ten feet of the middle of the building when he spotted the door. His thumb moved over the safety of the pistol in his right hand, double checking.

He peered back at the gate, unable to make out the shapes of his MC brothers or their bikes. Nevertheless, he knew they were there. Turning the knob, he walked inside.

Darkness blinded him. He stood listening, hoping his vision would adjust enough for him to move forward without using a flashlight and making himself a bigger target. Except, he got no break. There were no windows in the building, and the interior remained dark.

He held the flashlight in his left hand and straightened his arm out to the side away from his body. Raising his gaze until he believed he was looking forward at the height of a six-foot man, he pushed the button. The beam of light coming from his hand gave him a glimpse of a completely bare warehouse before a spotlight shined in his face and blinded him again.

Dropping the flashlight, he stepped back until his boot hit the wall. Squatting down trying to get out of the light, he squinted to the side hoping to find anything—a desk, a crate, a door—to use as a shield.

"It took you long enough," said a male voice, he assumed was Evan Kingsley.

Without lowering his pistol, Glen raised his other hand and shielded his eyes. "I take it hurting women is more your speed, and instead of facing me yourself, you have to be a pussy and shine a fucking light at me."

He kept his gaze down, aware if he looked directly into the light, he'd be inhibited with a black spot in his vision if the situation changed. He couldn't even get a good idea which direction Kingsley was in, going by his voice because every damn thing echoed in the empty building. All he knew was somewhere on the other side, Kingsley thought he had Glen right where he wanted him.

"You want the light off?" The light disappeared. "Better?"

Either way, he was fucked. "Turn it away from us and show yourself."

"Why?"

Glen walked forward, knowing nothing stood between him and Kingsley, except a hundred feet or so of blackness. "Why don't you start by telling me why you abused a woman?"

Kingsley laughed, the sound bouncing off the metal pre-fab walls. "Is that what she told you?"

"You like to throw chairs and dishes at her." He slowed his steps. "You like to throw threats out and see her scared.

The closer he got, the easier it would be for Kingsley to tell his location. As long as the light stayed off, he could figure out his best chance at making a move. His pistol held eight bullets. One in the chamber, seven in the clip, and he had an extra magazine in his back pocket. He could put a hole every six inches in a big enough span, it'd guarantee a hit. The darkness wouldn't stop him.

"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.