Hard Drifter Read online

  Hard Drifter

  Notus Motorcycle Club

  By

  Debra Kayn

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Hard Drifter

  Notus Motorcycle Club series

  1st Digital release: Copyright© 2017 Debra Kayn

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from Debra Kayn. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  www.debrakayn.com

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgment

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Epilogue

  Author Bio

  Debra Kayn's Backlist

  Sneak Peek — The Higher You Fly by Debra Kayn

  Dedication

  To — Jean, Clarke, Sara, Lorelai, Maggie, Piper, Joanna, Nik, and Danielle.

  Thank you for the years of support, the deep and often hilarious discussions, the laughter, the wasabi peas.

  Especially, the wasabi peas.

  Acknowledgment

  While Notus Motorcycle Club is a work of fiction, their purpose to find missing persons is a real-life problem.

  — Every 40 seconds, a child goes missing in the U.S.

  — In 2016, an astonishing 830,000 people were reported missing.

  It's easy to go through life unaware. We walk by the missing persons' flyers tacked on the wall at Walmart because those faces are always there. We read Amber Alerts when our phones buzz and then go play with our kids. An elderly person wanders off and we finish cooking dinner. Why? Because we rely on the police, search and rescue, and groups (like the fictional Notus Motorcycle Club) to find those who are missing. It's easy to say "be more involved" or "keep your eyes open". It's another thing to be someone who actively searches.

  There are 4 different reasons why people go missing.

  DECIDED — For reasons of their own, people decide to run away from the life they were living. It could be escaping personal problems, relationships, violence, and even mental health problems

  DRIFTED — Over time, people lose touch with family and friends

  UNINTENTIONAL ABSENCE — Alzheimer’s disease, mental health problems, accidents, and miscommunication

  FORCED — being a victim of crime such as homicide or abduction

  Chapter 1

  She stood at the edge of the group singing Happy Birthday to someone named Yvonne. Thad Bowers rubbed a circle on the top of the table with his thumb and strained to hear what the woman's voice sounded like amongst the party of a dozen people. Her hand cupped a curvy hip, and her eyes flickered over the others as if she was uncomfortable singing. He half hoped she had a soft, husky voice to match the hotter than hell looks.

  The table shook on a loud bang, dragging Thad's attention back to the Notus Motorcycle Club members at the booth in Vavoom's Bar. Wayne pulled back his hand he'd used to slap the surface. "We've got a message for a private hire."

  Thad glanced over at the woman as the rendition of 'Happy Birthday' came to an end. "Missing person?"

  As vice president of Notus MC, he searched for missing persons in partnership with St. John's Police Department. During the work week, he, along with Wayne Shaw, the president, Glen, the treasurer, Chuck, the secretary, worked at Port Loaders parking new cars onto ships heading out of the country. Childhood friends since they were six years old, they found their purpose to ride when they searched for the missing.

  "The guy only left a message saying he wanted to hire us to search for his sister who had drifted."

  "Huh." Chuck rubbed his hand over his shaved head. "It's been at least a year since we've looked for a drifter. It could be a nice break after coming off the missing child due to custody dispute we just finished."

  "I'm in if it sounds like a legit search." Glen looked at his phone. "Ingrid's closing up Pauly's Peddlers for the night."

  "Tell her to come on over." Wayne motioned his hand in the air. "I'll let Clara know, and she can have Paxton fix her something to eat."

  "Nah, man." Glen stood from the chair and slipped his phone into his pocket. "We're going over to her parents' house and staying with her dad, so her mom can go grocery shopping and get out for a little while."

  Thad looked over at the group across the room and found the woman he'd enjoyed watching for the last hour putting her coat on. "Yeah, I'm going to take off, too."

  "It's fucking Friday." Wayne drank from his beer bottle. "What's the hurry?"

  "Things to do. People to see." Thad smacked Chuck on the back. "Catch you tomorrow."

  "Hey." Wayne's mouth hardened. "We need to talk about Rich in the morning."

  Last month, they'd rode up north, above Seattle, looking for their wayward MC brother after getting a positive I.D. on him visiting a bar. They'd arrived to find an empty apartment, and no one had seen hide nor hair of Rich.

  "I'll come around later." He caught the woman making her way through the people inside the bar and heading toward the door. "I need to take off."

  He walked out ahead of the woman with no plan, only knowing that he wanted to continue the night with her. At the curb, he removed his Harley Davidson baseball cap out of his duffle and plopped it on his head as he spotted Lieutenant Gomez from the St. John's P.D. walking toward the entrance out of uniform.

  "Hey, Gomez." He lifted his chin. "Free night?"

  Gomez chuckled. "My mom wanted the kids to spend the night over at her house. She's planned some big day with them tomorrow bright and early. I thought I'd come by and have a few beers. The club inside?"

  Behind him, the door opened. "Yeah, Wayne and Chuck are still there."

  "I'll go see if I can sucker Wayne into buying a round." Gomez looked to Thad's right and raised his brows. "Hey, Lena. Are you leaving or coming?"

  "Leaving." A soft husky voice came from beside Thad.

  God damn if he hadn't pegged her right. He looked to the side, ran his gaze from the cowgirl boots on her feet, over her tight ass jeans to her breasts hidden underneath a black coat that barely hit her hips, and up to a face that smiled. At Gomez. Not him. She looked at the lieutenant as if Thad wasn't standing two feet from her.

  "I only stopped by because it's Yvonne's birth
day." Lena laughed softly. "I'm coming off a twelve-hour shift, and my bed is calling."

  Damn right her bed was calling, and he was calling her in her bed. Thad looked at Gomez, who chuckled and pointed at him. "Lena, this is Thad Bowers, V.P. of Notus Motorcycle Club."

  Her mouth softened. "Nice to meet you. I'm Lena Hollis."

  "Lena's one of the 911 dispatchers at the station." Gomez tilted his head toward Thad. "Notus gets called in on missing person cases with the P.D. if we call in air, ground, or if the loved ones want extra outside help."

  Lena's left brow lifted. "I take it you're not one of the psychics that offer their services."

  He grinned. "If I was, it might make searches easier."

  Gomez laughed. "I better get in there. You two have a good night."

  Thad remained on the sidewalk. Lena turned and watched Gomez leave, glanced at Thad, and gave him a small smile. "Well, nice to meet you."

  She walked away. He watched. At the end of the block, she stopped and waited for the crosswalk sign. He scanned the cars parked along the next block. Not knowing what she drove, there were a lot of vehicles that she'd have to pass, and she was alone. She wasn't in a safe position to be out by herself.

  He walked, catching up to Lena at the curb. She pulled her coat together and crossed her arms, glancing at him. "Just a heads up, but I think you passed your motorcycle back there."

  "I thought I'd walk with you," he said.

  She looked at the sign, waiting for the red hand to go away and the green stick person to appear. "Why?"

  "It's dark, and you're alone."

  The corners of her mouth hitched higher, and a flash of a dimple caught his eye. "It's five o'clock."

  "Still dark outside."

  She stepped off the curb and hurried across the street. He followed beside her and slowed down to match her step when she reached the sidewalk.

  "I don't need a hero." She swung her arms with each step. "I take calls from people who haven't taken precautions while out at night. I'm protected."

  "You're a woman."

  She hummed and shook her head. "Dangerous statement nowadays where every female is trying to prove their feminist right that they can take care of themselves."

  He stopped. It took her two more steps before she realized he wasn't walking and turned around.

  He studied her narrowed eyes. "Do you believe that bullshit?"

  "I have pepper spray in my coat pocket. While I've taken self-defense classes offered through the police department to the community, I know my limits." She inhaled deeply and looked out onto the street. "Plus, it's St. John's. I know which streets to use and which areas to avoid."

  His sister had also known how to take care of herself. In a time when street gangs weren't prevalent, prostitution was kept in cheap motel rooms and off the streets, and everyone believed it took a village to raise children and you waved at your neighbors, his sister had been kidnapped, raped, and murdered.

  "Where's your car?" he said, not impressed with her list of safety precautions.

  "I didn't drive. I'm walking home." She pointed over her shoulder. "I live off of University Park and Seventeenth Street."

  He motioned her to go and fell into step beside her. She had three blocks to walk. He wasn't going to let her go alone.

  She could be right, and her evening stroll would take her home unharmed. But, going with her and seeing her safely to her door would allow him to sleep better tonight.

  "I know exactly where you live." He never missed a step. "It's the white, single story house with the brick in front of the entryway."

  She glanced at him. "You've lived here a long time?"

  He nodded, unable to stop the lecture burning his throat. "It's not safe to give your address to someone when you first meet them."

  "Marcus introduced you, which means he knows and trusts you." She stepped off the curb and crossed the next street.

  Marcus? He grunted. Gomez. She knew him by his first name.

  He continued walking beside her. The thick black soles of his leather boots thunked against the sidewalk. He should've picked her up on his motorcycle and saved him the damn, long walk.

  "Are you planning on walking me all the way to my door?" She never missed her stride.

  Her arms kept swinging.

  Her hair kept bouncing.

  He looked over at her. That's all that moved. He couldn't see her breasts with the coat on or her ass unless he stopped and let her walk ahead of him, but he wasn't going to let her get that far away from him. Her full lips and straight nose gave him nothing to go on regarding her thoughts. He had no clue if she was glad for the company or simmering in anger at him pushing his company on her.

  "Yep. I'm walking you home." He stepped off the next curb having caught the green walk sign.

  On the other side of the street, she stepped up onto the sidewalk. "Okay. You might want to speed it up there, biker-man. I like walking for exercise."

  Her arms pumped faster.

  Her legs stretched out longer.

  From behind her, he grinned. He could finally see her ass.

  In fact, he enjoyed the view from five feet behind her so much, he let her set the pace. He'd never been one to exercise. His job and staying busy gave him enough manual labor to keep his gut from hanging over his jeans while letting him eat whatever he wanted.

  A hundred feet from Lena's house, she slowed and looked over her shoulder at him. "Thanks for the escort, Thad Bowers."

  He continued to follow her to the front door of her house. She turned and tilted her head, forcing him to speak next. She gave nothing away. Her expression remained unreadable. Her body language never leaned toward him or away. The sexy mystery fascinated him.

  "The club is getting together tomorrow night for a barbecue." He dropped his gaze to her mouth as her lips parted. "I'd like to take you. Eat, have a couple drinks, bullshit together, nothing big."

  She removed her keys out of her pocket. "Thanks for the offer, but no."

  Shot. Down.

  He dipped his chin, accepting her answer, and stepped back. "Go ahead and go inside, lock your door."

  She turned her back to him. He pivoted to start the walk back to his motorcycle, and she called his name.

  He stopped and looked at her silhouetted in front of the open door. "Yeah?"

  "It's not that I wouldn't be up to going out with you." She paused, and he wished like hell he could see her eyes in the dark. "I don't know your club or anyone who belongs to Notus. If it was only you..."

  "I don't do movies or fancy dinners." He inhaled deeply. "I have a private backyard that's a good place to sit, eat, and bullshit. I have the number for Wei Lung's, and they make some damn fine food."

  "I could do that," she said.

  "Tomorrow night?"

  She nodded. "Okay."

  "I'll pick you up. About seven."

  "No." She stepped toward him with her cell phone in her outstretched hand. "Put your address in my phone, and I'll find your house."

  He held her phone without giving her the information. "You're not planning on walking, are you?"

  She laughed softly. "I have a car. I'll drive."

  "That'll work." He looked at the screen, made a new contact for himself, and pushed the saved button when the screen changed and a text came up.

  You'll pay, bitch.

  He flipped the screen toward Lena. "What's this?"

  "I don't know." She took the phone. "It doesn't say who it's from. Probably the wrong number. I once kept getting a text from a mom who wanted her daughter to pick up Karo syrup at the store for three days. I finally answered the text and told her she had the wrong number, but the messages continued for two more days. The elderly people get confused over texting, I think. We get weird calls into 911 all the time."

  "That text wasn't from an elderly person. It sounds pretty threatening to me."

  "Well, it's not meant for me, so I'm not going to worry about it." She shrugged. "So...t
omorrow?"

  "Yeah."

  She turned around and walked into the house.

  He stayed after she was gone and tilted his head. The soft click of the lock on the door was his sign to leave. He strolled away from the house, wondering if she was right and the threatening message meant nothing. Lena appeared to have her life together, if not a need to be a little more aware of her safety. He looked forward to getting to know her better tomorrow night.

  Chapter 2

  Lena poised her fingers over the keyboard and looked at the middle screen on the desk. "Where is the accident located?"

  "Uh, the corner of Stanford and Tenth, by Taco Bell."

  She typed the nature of the call as the 911 caller continued talking. Pushing the button on her headset, she said, "When did the accident happen?"

  "Just now." The person panted over the phone. "The car shot right into the intersection and T-boned the other vehicle."

  "Were you involved in the accident?" She let go of the button on her headset and dispatched emergency crews.

  "No, it happened in front of me. I pulled over and called 911. The person who got hit—I think it's a woman, got hit on the driver's door."

  "How many cars are involved?" she asked.

  "Two. A blue car and a white older truck."

  "Emergency personnel are en route." She scooted her chair in front of the left screen. "They'll be there in less than two minutes. Stay out of the road and on the phone with me until they arrive, please."

  "Okay." The male caller talked to someone in the background.

  Sensing someone behind her, Lena looked over her shoulder. "Almost done."

  "Big call?" said Yvonne, setting her bag down by the drawers of the desk.

  "Vehicle accident. Unit 94 is en-route." She pushed the button at her hip. "You should hear sirens approaching the area now."

  "Yeah, yeah, they're coming," said the man.

  "Stay on the line with me until the officer stops." She turned back around to Yvonne. "How was the birthday celebration last night?"

  "Awesome." Yvonne kicked the bottom of the chair. "You should've stayed."

  "I was beat. Once I can stop working different shifts, I can plan on having more of a life." She reconnected with the caller when the man came over and said the policeman had stopped. "You can go ahead and disconnect this call. Please stay at the accident scene in case the officer would like to ask you questions."