Hard Mistake (Notus Motorcycle Club Book 4)
Table of Contents
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
Chapter One
Hard Mistake
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 Mistake
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 — ... or something
Chapter One
Dedication
To those who have lost.
With every book I write, readers often contact me with a personal story of how they connected with the characters or the plot. Notus MC series has brought out readers who share their personal stories about missing sisters, missing brothers, murdered relatives. Heartbreaking stories. Yet, I can't help but see the strength in people who have taken a step forward and helped others, who never give up hope, and continue to search. Never, ever give up.
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
The preacher announced Mr. and Mrs. Thaddeus Bowers to the small crowd in the backyard underneath the wooden gazebo. Chuck stuck his fingers in his mouth and whistled loud among the clapping and cheers. One by one, his childhood friends, his motorcycle club brothers, were tying the knot.
Thad being the most recent to tie himself down to one woman.
Chuck leaned to the side and placed his arm on the back of Gracie's chair. "Hey, what do you say we blow this yard and go to the bar and grab a drink?"
Without a glance at him, Gracie continued smiling at the newlyweds and said, "Don't be ridiculous. Vavoom's Bar catered the wedding. There's enough booze on the picnic table, even you could get toasted."
It wasn't the same as going to the bar Gracie and her twin sister, Clara, owned. Here, he had to be polite and in good cheer. What he wanted was to get loaded, have sex, and if a fight broke out, he wouldn't mind a little one on three. Those things happened at a bar, not a backyard wedding.
"Is there anything more fucked up than getting married?" He tapped Gracie's shoulder. "Look at Thad. Did you know he called me at one fucking thirty in the morning wanting me to go to Safeway and pick up a half gallon of vanilla ice cream? When I asked him why he said Lena wanted it, and she wanted it right then."
"She's pregnant. That's what pregnant women do," whispered Gracie. "Doesn't she look beautiful?"
He grunted. Lena was a good-looking woman. Though, Thad would have to hoist her with a cherry picker if the kid in her belly got any bigger. He looked at Gracie in her dark blue, tight-fitting dress and compared her stomach to that of a pregnant woman. Hell, Gracie had one of those flat stomachs. There wasn't even a roll. Her skin would probably pop if she had a baby.
"Have you ever thought of having a kid?" asked Chuck.
Gracie turned her head. "Yes, but it takes two people to start a family."
He raised his brows and leaned closer. "We could always—"
She elbowed him in his ribs. He groaned and removed his arm from the back of her chair.
He rubbed his side. "I'll take that as a no."
"A hell no." Gracie patted his leg. "I'm going to go see how Maureen is doing with the burgers. Why Thad wanted burgers and fries served after the wedding is beyond me."
Chuck watched her go and then walked over to the make-shift open bar at the picnic table on the other side of the fire pit. Wayne, the president of Notus Motorcycle Club, and the one responsible for gathering him, Thad, Glen, and Rich when they were six years old and declaring everyone would be friends, stoo
d by the table with a drink in his hand. Back in their childhood, they'd all used Chuck's pocket knife he'd found in old Mr. Sullivan's garage to become blood brothers. He put his hand in his Notus vest pocket and felt the slim three-inch duller than fuck knife. He still carried the blade that had bound them together for life.
"You're next to bite the bullet." Wayne, his hair and beard hanging past his shoulders, lifted the Solo cup in his hand.
"To get married?" Chuck shook his head. "Not my thing. Besides, you never tied the knot with Clara. It worked out well for you."
"Clara's mine. I don't need no damn paper to tell me that." Wayne lifted his chin toward the newly married couple. "Twenty bucks says Lena will have that kid by the end of the week."
"I'm not a fool." Chuck grinned. "I lost my bet with Glen last week that she'd have it before the wedding and here she is toddling around, happier than hell, with her belly still enormous."
"God, Chuck." Clara, Wayne's woman, stepped up beside him and smacked his arm. "Don't let Lena hear you say that. Especially on her wedding day."
"I didn't say anything wrong. Lena's pregnant." He rubbed the spot she'd slapped. "What is it about Notus women hitting me? Your sister bruised my ribs not more than five minutes ago."
"You probably deserved it." Clara picked up a beer and gave it to Chuck, then looked away and smiled. "Ingrid, I can't get over your dress. It's fabulous."
Chuck turned and whistled at Glen's wife. "Damn, woman. Why are the good ones already taken?"
Ingrid, looking sassy with her short hair, laughed and leaned closer to her husband, Glen. "Knock it off, Chuck. There's going to be no fighting at the wedding. I wouldn't want my husband to kick your ass."
"The day Glen takes me out, I'll be dead," muttered Chuck, drawing deep from the cup.
The Notus members grew up fighting constantly. Who could take out who, who could beat everyone in arm wrestling, who could still stand after a bloody round in the backyard when wearing boxing gloves. Then, they became teenagers, and instead of fighting each other, they fought others. That tradition continued into adulthood, though fighting had now become a seasonal sport. They were all getting too damn old to hurt themselves at forty-five years old. The recovery time took longer. Their muscles ached a little more. They were a little more careful picking out who needed a good pop in the mouth.
Glen handed a business card to Wayne. "Lieutenant Gomez handed me this when he stopped by and dropped off the wedding present for Thad and Lena."
Wayne passed it to Chuck. "What is it?"
Used to Wayne passing anything that required him to read or write off to someone else because of his struggle with dyslexia, Chuck looked at the card. "Someone named E. Levenson who owns St. John's Bail Bonds."
"Gomez mentioned they wanted to hire us." Glen unwrapped a stick of gum and shoved it in his mouth, his new habit lately, and one he used to cover a muscle spasm in his lip left over from surgery as a kid. "He didn't know anything about why Bail Bonds wanted to contact us, but they asked for a referral for those who do searches, and Gomez gave our name and said he'd pass on the message."
"We're not bounty hunters." Wayne waved his hand, not taking the card when Chuck tried to hand it back to him. "We don't have time for that shit. Call the number and tell him to find someone else to hunt down a probation runner. We only do missing persons."
Chuck held the card between his two fingers. "I'll ride by the bonds place and see what it's about before we turn down the job."
"Now?" asked Ingrid, holding Glen's hand. "Thad and Lena haven't even cut the cake yet."
Chuck shrugged and put the card in his pocket. "Tomorrow is Sunday. Monday is Memorial Day. There probably won't be anyone at this number until Tuesday. I rather get this over with."
"Well, swing back by when you're done. Thad plans to start the fire when the sun goes down, and Mr. and Mrs. B, Lena's dad, sister, brother, and Pauly leave." Clara lowered her voice. "Though, we're not mentioning to them that Notus is going to hang around longer. We don't want to hurt their feelings. But, with Lena needing to stay close to home in case she goes into labor, we're all going to sit and relax tonight with them."
Chuck stepped back from the group and grinned, walking away without committing himself. Any other day, he'd be hanging with his club. But, there was too much love in the air. Wayne and Clara couldn't keep their hands off each other. Glen spared no opportunity to grab Ingrid's ass anytime Chuck looked at them. The only one he could hang with and feel no pressure to tie the knot with was Gracie. But, even she seemed caught up in the declaration of death-do-you-part, he couldn't even hold a decent conversation with her.
Thad's mom spotted him and walked over cutting off his exit. "It's your turn next, Chuck."
"Not me. I think I'm skipping those vows that tie me down." Chuck leaned over and kissed her cheek. "You look beautiful, Mrs. B."
Karen Bowers patted his cheek. He mustered a wink for her. Thad's mom was like a second mom to him and the rest of the Notus members. She'd swatted his ass as many times as she had Thad's growing up.
"I need to go see to some business." Chuck slipped away and approached the bride and groom as they talked to the preacher.
Grasping the backs of their necks, he stuck his head in-between them. "I need to split. Congrats to both of you."
Thad turned. "Everything okay?"
He nodded. "I'm running over to talk to someone who wanted to hire Notus."
"Missing?" asked Thad, frowning.
"Nah, man. No worries. Today is your day." Chuck slapped Thad's shoulder and then leaned over and kissed Lena's cheek. "Enjoy your wedding night, sweetheart."
Lena smiled and reached out for Thad's hand. "Come back if you have time."
"Will do." Chuck lifted his arm in a semblance of a wave and walked away.
Gracie jogged across the lawn barefooted holding the straps of her heels with her finger. "Chuck. Wait."
He stopped at the same time Gracie came to a stumbling rest in front of him and grabbed his arm. "You're leaving?"
Her gaze intensified and the two little lines between her eyebrows showed themselves. For how aloof and independent Gracie could seem to those who didn't know her, he did know her. He hooked her neck and brought her closer, lowering his voice. "You'll be fine."
"You said you were going to take me home later," she whispered. "If you leave, it'll be dark by the time Wayne and my sister can take me."
Her fear of staying out after dark remained after her kidnapping and assault by her mother's serial killer. A man who was no longer living, because Notus Motorcycle Club made sure he wouldn't get another chance to hurt another woman.
"I need to go take care of business, but I'll come back before dark and take you home." He kissed her forehead. "Now, go enjoy yourself and show off that pretty dress you're wearing."
Gracie inhaled deeply and nodded. He stepped away and lifted his chin, encouraging her to go join the others. Only when she'd turned and walked away did he slip out the side gate on the fence and go to his Harley parked in front of Thad's house. He and Gracie hit it off after her rescue, and he wouldn't disappoint her. He wanted her to heal and not be afraid of living life. She was too beautiful and kind to live in fear and darkness.
Ten minutes across town, he rode around the block and parked in front of St. John's Bail Bonds. Leaving his helmet on his handlebar, he removed the business card from his pocket and read the name printed on the front.
Walking up to the door, he peered through the windows. The lights were on inside, but a closed sign hung to his right. He tried the door handle and found it unlocked. Pushing his way inside, he barely took two steps into the room when the familiar click of a pistol broke the silence.
"Stop and put your hands out to the sides," said a feminine voice.
Only because he was always willing to play any game a female wanted, he raised his hands and gazed around the room. There were two desks. Charts on the walls, and wanted pictures of criminals littering a
corkboard, but no woman.
"What do you want?" she asked.
He pinpointed her voice coming from behind a partial wall in the back. "I'm Chuck Parker from Notus Motorcycle Club. I was told E. Levenson wanted to speak with me, and I stopped by to talk to him personally."
The woman walked out from behind the wall, strode straight toward him, and held out her hand. "I'm Erikka Levenson. Thanks for coming over."
His gaze dropped to her breasts, and he whistled low. Damn, he was in trouble.
Chapter 2
Chuck Parker stood in front of Erikka after shaking hands with her. She put the pistol on the surface of her desk and sat down, motioning for him to take the chair across from her. Whatever she'd expected when talking with Lieutenant Gomez and having Notus Motorcycle Club recommended to her, it wasn't the intimidating biker who strolled into the office.
Her gaze went to Chuck's shaved head. There was no hint he was going bald. He had signs of regrowth. Blond regrowth. She lowered her gaze to his strong forearms littered with tattoos. She liked that. Not the ink, but that he was a physically fit man who would scare normal men.
"I'll make this short." Chuck leaned back in the chair and crossed the arms she'd admired. "Notus doesn't hunt down bail jumpers."
Erikka shook her head, prepared to do whatever necessary to have the biker club work with her. Gomez had stated they were the best at what they do, and she needed someone to help her. "I want to hire you, your club, to help me find someone."
"We only deal with missing persons, not criminals on the run."
She sat straighter, trying to hold her temper inside at his jab toward her livelihood. "This is personal. My sister is missing."
"The police will help you with that," said Chuck.
"They can't." She clenched her teeth. Until she had a verbal or written contract with Notus Motorcycle Club, she feared giving more details to anyone about why her sister was missing. Never before had she missed her dad, the original E. Levenson, who'd started the bail bonds business and was in charge of everything that happened. He would've known what to do, but he'd died of a heart attack while bringing in a jumper. Her dad would've walked straight into trouble and saved his daughter.