Vinny knew he had heard too much. He slowly backed away, careful not to make a noise that would alert Benni to his presence. But it was too late. The club’s president had already hung his phone up and tossed it on to his metal desk. Vinny could hear his footsteps hit the floor as he sped out of the room, running directly into where Vinny stood.
“You’re early,” Benni sneered.
“Yeah, I know. I was out on a ride, so I figured I’d just come by when I got close. You want me to come back later?”
“No. I may actually need you since none of the other enforcers are around right now.”
“Whatever you need, boss. What’s the assignment?” Vinny was itching to get back in the saddle. After following Gloria around like a dog for a few weeks, getting a real man’s assignment was almost tantalizing.
“There’s someone comin’ soon. Son of a bitch betrayed us. He’s been working for both us and the Devils tradin’ junk. I just got the call about it.”
“Who is it?” Vinny was smarter than that. The coincidences between what had happened in the parking lot and what was happening here in the clubhouse was too much.
Benni’s voice rumbled low as he uttered the name, “Carl.”
Vinny put on a shocked and appalled expression. He was never a great actor, but his life depended on playing dumb and acting like he didn’t already have this information. He let out a gasp, hoping it wasn’t too dramatic for the situation. He uttered a quick “Son of a bitch...” for good measure.
“Yeah, I know. The bastard’s apparently been doing it for years. Who knows how deep it goes or how he was gettin’ away with it. All I know is that when he gets here, he’s gonna pay every last goddamn dime.”
Vinny knew the answer before he even asked the next logical question, “Who called it in?”
“Some random chick. Said she found out about him working at the quarry awhile ago, but she didn’t know it was Devils territory ‘til this evening.”
Benni was pretty dismissive and uninterested in the content of the call and the caller herself, which oddly relieved Vinny. At least Gloria wasn’t in trouble. Now he just had to get out of the clubhouse alive without Carl or Benni finding out the details of his involvement.
“What about Junior? He’s supposed to come in at two. Do you want him around for this?”
“Yeah, I do actually. Junior may know more about Carl if he was workin’ with the Devils.”
Benni had a good point, one Vinny wish he had thought of beforehand. Junior may be the key to turning suspicion off of the mystery caller if he could confirm that he had seen Carl working at the quarry. He just had to get him first before Benni could get to him.
Vinny offered, “Let me go pick up Junior. We can get this done faster that way.”
Benni nodded, giving his enforcer permission to go ahead. Vinny sped out of the hallway lightning fast as he pulled his phone out of his pocket once he reached the parking lot. He dialed Junior’s cell number hoping he’d pick up.
At the fourth ring, a voice of a tired, recently woken up man answered, “Yeah. What’s up?”
“I’ll be at your place in fifteen minutes. Be dressed. We’ve got some things to go over.”
“I thought we weren’t meeting until two. That’s an hour from—”
“Shut up and listen, Junior! You wanna get out of harm’s way? You want to make this go away? Be outside in fifteen minutes. If not, I’ll drag you out of that craphole you call a home.” Vinny had no time to play nice or to even give a good explanation. He was all business tonight and his mission was keeping himself alive.
----
Gloria snickered to herself wildly as she sat leaned all the way back in the front seat of her car. A few phone calls to her clients and she had landed a quick, anonymous phone call with Benni, the President of the Horsemen. From the disbelief and anger in his voice, she knew she had landed Carl in a heap of trouble. She couldn’t have signed his death warrant any easier than that.
But it wasn’t just about letting Carl get eaten by the dogs. She wanted to see him suffer. She wanted to watch him soak in his own blood for the own blood he had taken from her all those years ago. And Vinny was her front row ticket into the show.
Vinny had just pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street before Jackman’s Tavern. He hadn’t spotted her parked behind the long-deserted, abandoned police car in the adjacent lot, nor had he noticed her pulling out with her headlights dimmed. She followed him closely as he weaved in and out of traffic on his bike. He was driving like a maniac, in a rush to get to wherever he was going. But she had managed to keep an eye on him and follow his path to headquarters at the old bottling factory.
Parking her car at the far corner of the lot, away from the entrance of the building, she knew no one would take notice of an abandoned, beat up car. All she had to do now was wait for Carl’s arrival and then follow him into the clubhouse.
Luckily for her, she didn’t have to wait too long at all as two men and their motorcycles appeared only minutes after she had. Dismounting first was the man she had come to see. He hadn’t changed a day since she last saw him. Dark face, dark body, dark clothes, he looked like death walking. Following closely behind him was someone also familiar to Gloria. She struggled to sit up a bit higher in her leaned back driver’s chair to get a glimpse of the man Carl patted on his back.
The second, the one who followed Carl’s every step as they walked the length of the parking lot, was wearing purple—Devils’ colors. His 1% patch sewn into the back of his black vest said it all. This younger man was Carl’s backup, his personal bodyman. Whatever was about to go down wasn’t going to be an easy fight like she hoped. Carl was walking in with his own weapons and protection for himself. His protection just happened to be Junior.
----
Vinny was steaming. Junior’s reluctance to join him when he was called was freaking him out. No way could he let the kid get him in trouble tonight, especially not after seeing what trouble was in store for Carl after he was exposed. Plus, there was Gloria to deal with when this was all said and done. She had put her nose in business she certainly didn’t belong in, and now Vinny had to take action on it.
He headed out the doors of the headquarters and into the black night. The stars were dim and their lights partially obscured by the gray clouds looming overhead. The acidic smell of rain approaching hit his nostrils as tiny drops of moisture landed on his black leather jacket. Using his hand to brush the built up moisture off of the saddle of his ride, he was totally unaware of the approaching men from behind. A body he thought belonged to Benni appeared to him in the motorcycle’s mirrors. Without looking back, he said, “I got ahold of Junior. He’s on his way. You going out or som—”
A force knocked him into his bike, toppling the heavy ride over with him falling hard on top. Vinny was stunned, totally unprepared. His rib had smashed into the chrome upon descent making the turn to face his attacker much harder. Slowly he stood, using his hands to push to standing from the cement and gravel he laid in.
Carl stood before him, wearing a Devils leather jacket and patch. Cowering behind him, struggling not to make eye contact with Vinny, was Junior’s lanky body. He looked down at the ground almost like a dog that knew it was about to be punished.
“I hear you and Benni been lookin’ for me. Well, here I am. Let’s get this over with.” Carl’s low, even keel voice showed confidence. He certainly wasn’t afraid of Vinny’s reputation or his imposing body like most men in the motorcycle club world. Carl was looking for a fight tonight, and he knew he would get one with Vinny.
Vinny wasn’t sure how to approach Carl’s apparent trader status. Gloria had revealed that he was a longtime member of the Devils, and Vinny had denied it. Even with Benni stirring to get to the bottom of his allegiance, Vinny still had questioned if the intel were right. But here Carl was, standing in front of Vinny with a rusty switchblade in his hand and a Devils patch sewn on his shoulder.
“Not a pus
sy-ass Horseman like yourself, that’s fo’ damn sure. You really think I’d wanna ride with low-level losers like your bitch ass? Me an’ the Devils go way back and as soon as you wannabes came into our turf, tryin’ to sell on our territory, I knew I wasn’t going to let you get away with it.” Carl spat on the ground at the Vinny’s leather boot. His blade was angled higher, ready to lunge if needed.
Vinny raged with pent up anger. This man had betrayed everything he had stood for. Vinny had trusted him, had loved him like a brother, and had rode with him in good and bad times over the few short years he had known him. Now the real Carl was in front of him and he had only one thing to say to the man, “I’m gonna kill you, you son of a bitch.”
“Not if I get to you first. Maybe you’re too stupid to figure it out, but there’s two of us here and there’s only one of you.”
“That’s fine, because once I finish with you, I’m goin’ after Junior next.” Vinny arched his head so he was in direct eye contact with Junior as he continued to silently hide behind Carl. “You hear that, you bastard? I kept you safe. I vouched for you. And you pull this shit on me? I shoulda killed you when I had the chance.”
Junior took a few steps back, his hands shoved into his pockets. Carl didn’t bother looking behind him to see what his brother was doing. Instead, he just laughed maniacally as he hunched over, ready to get the fight started.
But it was Vinny who attacked first. With a quick run, he leaped onto Carl with the full force of his weakened, injured body. The two men landed back on the ground in a small, damp puddle of water and old bike oil. Reaching at him, Vinny took his large hands on to the white collar of Carl’s t-shirt and used it to slam his entire head and shoulders back and forth against the cement parking lot ground.
Blood pooled at the back of his neck, but Carl continued to kick at thrash against the weight of Vinny. As Vinny let go of him to take his first punch, Carl managed to fight back, getting several blows to the same rib Vinny had damaged when he fell on the bike. Air escaped his lungs as Carl pounded each blow harder and harder until Vinny fell off of him to his hands and knees.
Like a spring, Carl popped up to his feet. His black leather shoes found strong momentum to kick and punch at Vinny as he attempted to stand himself. Each hit pushed him farther and farther into the ground. Blood splattered onto this mouth and discolored his shirt and arms. All he could see was red, black, and the silver of the rain beginning to pour down on him.
But another color quickly caught his eye. It was the brown handle of the switchblade laying about three feet from his hands. He attempted to reach out his hands, but him not paying attention to the blows that were coming fast and hard only made him more vulnerable, allowing Carl to get several more kicks in, one to his face and another to his legs. The vision from his left eye faltered, his head grew tired and heavy, and his heart raced and beat out of time. Vinny collapsed back to the ground in agony as he let out a small scream of desperation.
It was perfect for Carl who had finally found the upper hand. The big man was down, head first. His arms were outstretched, totally still and weakened. If it wasn’t for his heaving chest, Carl would have thought him dead, but he still knew he wasn’t going anywhere soon.
Turning to face Junior, whose face had turned white as a ghost watching his old partner fall, Carl let out a wicked laugh, “Big men… they always fall hardest when they think they’re invincible.” He kicked some gravel on Vinny’s body and turned his attention to the clubhouse. “Benni’s inside. Let’s get h—”
A horrible scream sounded through the night followed by a second thud of a body on to the ground. Junior remained wide-eyed and perfectly still next to Carl as he lay in a pool of his own blood, his own switchblade sticking out from between his shoulder blades.
Chapter 10: Who Could You Forgive
Junior had seen his fair share of fights and bloodshed. As a 1%er, it was almost expected that, eventually, you’d be there. You would see someone you fought with, someone you rode with, face down on the ground dying or dead. He just never expected it would be Carl.
And he certainly never expected his killer to be a woman, let alone the singer from the bar who helped him get his fake re-introduction.
But there was Gloria. Her body shook and shivered as she panted uncontrollably. Her eyes were fixed down at her hands as she held them close to her face. They were covered in red and dripping with fresh blood. She knelt down to the ground and, with a heave, she twisted the knife once and then twice until it pulled straight from Carl’s body. The dead man made no sound except for the faint noise of the blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.
Junior continued to watch as she then walked to where Vinny was still laying, his body curled up in a slight ball. She used all of her strength to turn him over to his back, unsure of if she should even be moving him in his state. She looked down at the man, his eyes tightly closed as he let out a small groan of pain.
“Vinny? Vinny? Are you with me?” She whispered his name gently as he began to come to again. His eyes flickered with recognition of her voice, and she watched astonished as he began to flex his fingers and move his hands with his bruised wrists. A feeling of relief washed over her body as she let out a deep breath she had been holding in since she first saw him take a blow from her seat in the parking lot.
After a long, horrible minute of nothing, Vinny looked up at her with his dark eyes completely focused on her. And for one second, he did something she had yet to see: he smiled. His thin, pale lips parted ever so slightly revealing the white of his teeth. Little wrinkles around his forehead softened and his entire body relaxed in her arms. She, too, let go, allowing her emotions to release with his.
Vinny spoke first, a small, urgent warning in the midst of their brief moment of happiness, “Gloria, you have to go.”
“What?” Gloria was confused. It was not what she had expected him to say. All she wanted to do was to make sure he was okay, to stay with him until she could get help.
Vinny had only a second to utter out, “Junior!” before it happened. Gloria felt a hot, searing sensation hit her face. It brought her to the ground before she could have the opportunity to look up and see the lanky young man standing above her.
“You bitch!” Junior charged after her as she used her hands and legs to crab crawl backwards. He yanked down and grabbed her hair to force her back to her feet. She cried out at the ripping of her scalp. ”What did you do? What the fuck did you do?”
He slapped her with the backside of his hand once more. She could hear her own skin retracting from her face upon contact. She wanted to fly forward with the force, but he held her in place. Another slap connected with the other side. This time, she felt the cold, deep scratch of his gold family ring slice against her cheek.
And then, it stopped. Junior let go of Gloria as he turned wildly. She had just a moment to move out of the way as Vinny vaulted on Junior and delivered punch after punch after punch. His face became unrecognizable under Vinny’s hands between the red blood and the dirt and grime flying from the ground.
Junior began to beg and plead desperately for his life. “Please stop! Stop! STOP!” He screamed as loud as he could but the fluid in his lungs wouldn’t let him call out louder than a whisper.
Still, Vinny did stop. He dropped Junior to the ground and fell to his knees beside him. With his hand clutching his own ribs, he looked over the boy and shouted, “Get out of here!” When Junior did not move, he repeated it again with urgency, “Get out of here, Junior! You tell the rest of your Devils friends that if you think you can mess with the Horsemen or me, you have a fresh body bag waiting for you.” He pointed to where Carl lay still in his own blood with his face totally collapsed into the ground.
Junior took the message to heart as he limped away to the end of the parking lot where the men had parked their bike. As soon as he was out of sight, Gloria crawled to where Vinny knelt. She took her arms on his shoulders and slightly kneaded at them to bring him ba
ck to her attention.
“Thank you.” She didn’t know what else to say. He had saved her, somehow. Yet, she had saved him. They were on equal ground now, but she still felt she, for once, owed someone something more.
“You need to go, Gloria. Get out of here. Get in your car and drive away.” Vinny was not joking. There wasn’t a hint of humor in his voice, nor appreciation.
Gloria couldn’t understand. She struggled to ask, “Why? I don’t—“
“Get out of here, Gloria, before Benni sees you! NOW!” If he could, he would have scooped her up and placed her in her car himself, but his body was too weak. Still, she followed his direction, only looking back when he called to her once more, “Leave the knife!”
Taken by Lies (Black Horsemen MC Book 1) Page 7
