Reckless Abandon (Black Horsemen MC Book 3)

by Sophia Hampton

  But Vinny was already in a stairwell by the time the rest of the nursing staff and the police officer on duty could spring into action. Getting down the three flights of steps proved to be a challenge, but he knew that whomever was looking for him would probably be checking elevators rather than emergency exits.

  When he had made it down the last step, he pushed hard against the large metal door, allowing the emergency siren to sound above him. He stepped outside to the courtyard. A group of nurses and doctors chatting and smoking turned their heads to see the source of the commotion.

  Vinny attempted to look embarrassed and frazzled as he lifted his cap and looked around bewildered. He then quietly said, “I, uh, didn’t know that door would go off. Anyone know where the actual exits are?”

  An orderly smiled at him in sympathy. This wasn’t the first time a visitor had set off the emergency alarms from the doors. He pointed towards the door on the other side as he explained that would get him to the west side parking lot. Vinny thanked him profusely as he headed out, clutching at the stitches in his sides.

  He walked through the parking lot, weaving through the cars and ambulances until he came upon a taxi idling. The driver had leaned back his leather driver seat as he dozed away. “I need to get out of here man,” Vinny yelled, thumping his fists loudly against the window. “Open up!” The driver unlocked his doors as Vinny slipped in the back and gave the address of his final destination. The hospital grew smaller in the rearview mirrors as they sped away.

  As Vinny had predicted, the Black Horsemen’s headquarters was all but deserted. It was a Monday morning and most of the members were at their normal nine to five jobs or were nursing their hangovers from the weekend. The only people there were the leadership, the men who were paid to be there twenty-four/seven.

  However, Vinny was not prepared to walk straight into Quimby. The large, immovable man stood before him, his arms crossed across his chest and a sly smile spread across his lips. He chuckled hardily to himself as he planted his body in front of the entrance, preventing Vinny from going through the door.

  “What the fuck are you doing here, Quimby?” Vinny had no tolerance for the man who was his one-time partner. He was as dumb as they came and obsessed with brutality. He was the worst kind of motorcycle man, the kind that made Vinny rethink his loyalty.

  “If you weren’t stuck up in that hospital bed like the pussy traitor you are, you’d know we ain’t letting just anyone get in. Direct orders.” Quimby looked Vinny up and down.

  Vinny had lost weight, at least twenty pounds, since his hospitalization. He had lost most of his imposing muscles and his face had sunk in to the bones. The oversized clothing made him look even more like a child. “You damn well know who I am. Let me in before I call the boss.” Vinny took the phone out of his pocket.

  “Go right ahead—traitor.”

  Vinny ignored the last comment. Whatever Quimby called him was nothing of importance to him. He would pay for it later; Vinny would be sure of that.

  He turned his back from the white-washed building and paced the parking lot as he dialed Benni’s phone number from memory. The phone rang once, twice, and three times before being picked up.

  “Benni, put down the guard. It’s just me.”

  “Who the fuck is this?” Benni spit hard into the phone.

  “It’s Vinny, man. I just broke out of the hospital.” Vinny looked up towards the video camera the group had installed after the last attack in the parking lot just a few weeks prior. Ever since, Benni had stood watch in his office, peering at the video monitors as men streamed in and out of the building. Vinny knew that if he was inside, he was watching.

  The phone clicked as the man on the other line hung up on Vinny. But after several long moments, there was nothing. No voice called out, nor did Quimby move from his post.

  Vinny watched and waited in the abandoned lot for something to happen. His head raced for scenarios on why he was not being allowed entry to his own club. Quimby laughed manically to himself as each moment passed and Vinny was still standing alone.

  Out of Quimby’s direct sight, Vinny walked slowly towards the far side of the building. The short, metal windows were his only way in as he attempted to guess at which one would be the best to try first. Vinny slipped off his borrowed shirt and wrapped it around his hands over and over again, making a bandage. He stood before the glass and attempted to look in one last time, but the frosted glass gave nothing away.

  He took a deep breath as he pulled back his arm and then slammed it with all of his might into the window. Every bit of his body called out in agony as he could feel his stitches stretch and give way under the powerful motion. His punch had made damage to the window as he used his black boots to finish the job.

  He scaled the side of the brick building, lifting himself in the hole he had made just as Quimby started teetering in the sound of the loud bangs and crashes. The large man couldn’t keep up with Vinny as he dropped himself into the building, feet first.

  Vinny fell to the ground, thrashing around the large pile of shards and slivers of glass. He held in a scream as he used his hands to push up to his feet.

  As he started to stand, two brown leather boots came into view. He looked up from his crouch to see Benni and two men behind them. Each held a gun pointed directly at Vinny’s head. This was not the welcome back he had expected.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “Whoa, Benni! What the fuck is this?”

  “Shut the fuck up, if you know what is good for you,” Benni screamed as he brandished the black pistol at Vinny who was still kneeling on the glass-covered floor.

  “What’s goin’ on here? I just got out of the fuckin’ hospital!” Vinny couldn’t help but be defensive. This was the second time he had gone to bat for the Horsemen only to be brought to the edge of death. Each time, the brothers he thought he was riding with had abandoned him.

  In the case of the most recent attack, he had been left to fight for his death. The Horsemen had been tricked into staking out the local limestone quarry in search of Calvin Jr., a traitor and spy for the Devils. Vinny had driven Benni and a truck full of Horsemen to the Cattleman’s Ranch, a restaurant where both gangs had sold and dealt the majority of their merchandize unknowingly.

  That day, only Vinny entered the restaurant’s kitchen in search of the fugitive. As soon as he had stepped in and called out for Junior to face his punishment, a large group of Devils enforcers charged at him from their hiding places. One by one they came out of entranceways and walkways. They leered at him, their faces lighting up with glee in recognition.

  As at least a dozen men circled him where he stood, their leader, a big, hairy man, shouted out loudly, “So this is the punkass who killed Carl. Doesn’t look so big now, does he boys?” The rest of the group laughed heartily.

  “I killed him with my bare hands, you sons of bitches. And don’t think I won’t take every last one of you down with him to that grave.” Vinny had lied. It was actually Gloria who managed to deliver the kill shot moments before Carl had his chance to finish off Vinny.

  “Not today, my friend. Not today. It looks like you’re well outnumbered. And by the time we finish you, our boys will be busy digging their own plot of dirt of you. Does that sound like a plan, my brothers?” He lifted his arms in the air as the rest of the men shouted wildly around him like a pack of wolves in their den.

  Vinny began backing away slowly as he surveyed what he was up for. To himself, he counted thirteen men. Each yielded some kind of defense. There were switchblades, hammers, baseball bats, and axes—weapons of motorcycle club war. Most of the guys were smaller than Vinny, thus giving him the advantage in hand-to-hand combat, but he knew that was unlikely to happen in this kind of crowd.

  He continued to walk backwards, his hands behind him as the men continued to wait to pounce. None really knew what they were waiting for. Most felt like they had to wait until they were told to get their piece of the action. They all looked to t
he large man, his face drenched in sweat and concentration, for word.

  Vinny took advantage of the hesitation as he took one more step back against the metal kitchen prep table. His back brushed the side as he moved his hands toward the back until he found it. The blade of the butcher’s knife gleaned in the light as he quickly turned to jump on top of the table and brandish the knife above his head.

  “Come at me!” Vinny shouted as the Devils’ crew suddenly leapt into action. The men nearest to him leapt at him, but Vinny was quick. He jumped out of the way, sending the men flying over the other side of the table and onto the dirty tiled floor.

  Another slowly climbed up on the table next to him. Vinny felt the man’s knife go in before he could register what it was. He let out a yell as his back arched from the pain. He wheeled himself around to face the man who had stabbed him. The blade was still stuck in his side. He pulled it out and used it and his butcher’s knife to swipe at the man. He made contact with his face and hands, causing him to fall off the table and down to the floor in a pile of his own blood.

  Vinny’s laughter was interrupted when he was struck on the back with a large baseball bat. He fell down, stomach first, on the center of the table. Two men were there to punch at him. He instinctively curved his body, protecting his chest and ribs from their blows. His feet thrashed as another man attempted to pull him off.

  A second knife went in to him, this time near his collarbone. It was a failed attempt to get to his throat. It set Vinny on fire as he kicked even harder, delivering a hit so hard he knocked the tooth out of the man leaping at his feet. Vinny pounced down from the table, landing on one of the fist fighters. Straddling over him, he began to deliver punch after punch until blood pooled at his fists. The man’s friend had ran off seeing the scene.

  Vinny’s arm reached up to finish the job, but it was pulled backwards as another of the larger men grabbed his face and jabbed a dull switchblade into his back. It barely pierced through his leather jacket, but it still stung and caused his reflexes to go nuts. He could feel his right arm weaken as his muscles fell apart from the broken nerve endings.

  “That’s for Carl, you son of a bitch!” Another faceless man had rammed his own knife in between Vinny’s shoulder blades leaving a second bleeding hole in his backside.

  Vinny had to get up. He had to keep going. If he thought these hits and stabs were painful now, he could only imagine what the Devils had planned to do with him when he was nearer to death and could not fight back. And he certainly was not about to go down without a fight.

  He made it to his feet, his body trembling as blood ran down his arms, back, and hips. He glanced around at the four men left standing. In between their rank and file line, Vinny could spot the door he had come in from. It was still propped open from when the kitchen staff had left. And the familiar voices of his own gang, who had been outside dealing with Devils’ security, were growing louder as they got closer to him.

  Vinny charged his way towards the sounds of his own men, falling into the arms of the Devils. One knocked his face hard with another baseball bat, forcing him back into the center of their circle. As the man leaned down to drag Vinny to his feet by his collar, Vinny swung his feet and legs under him, taking him down with a circular kick to his ankles. The bat rolled towards him as he clutched it in his hand.

  Vinny swung the bat wildly as he struggled to focus. The loss of blood had slowed everything down and had made the room begin to spin. Faces became blurred as he was unsure where he needed to go next. But he waited. He knew that if he could hold on to the bat as tightly as he could, he could take another one or two out. A horrible thud came as he knocked another man to his feet, hitting him on the head with a direct smack. Vinny kicked at his unmoving body as it fell to the floor.

  The final two men had obviously done this before. While the others flailed and fought helplessly and without a plan, they had waited it out and had studied their opponent. They knew he was hurting and hobbled.

  The leader, the man who had shouted at Vinny earlier, had grabbed a piece of rope from the storage unit while he was fighting his underlings. He used it to lasso Vinny causing him to drop to the ground while the other man, the number two in charge, took his axe and began swinging it towards him. The first attempt caught Vinny’s bicep. It ripped through the fabric of his jacket and shirt and went as far down as the bone.

  The axe pinned Vinny in place making it impossible for him to move. The lasso around his waist and hands only further prevented him from fighting back. He watched in horror as the leader reached out his burly hands and placed it around his neck. The air instantly began to escape him as he struggled to turn his head for any sort of relief. His body constricted and struggled and everything around him went into a lazy haze. He fell back onto the tile, his head hitting the floor with a thump.

  The man in charge released Vinny and stood next to his friend. Vinny’s skin had turned blue, his chest caved inwards, and the pool of blood he was laying in had become thick and muddy.

  “Go get Calvin and tell him its all clear. I’m gonna call Hal and the boys and tell them to head back to the lair.” The leader reached into his pocket and began dialing the number into the keyboard. He watched as the underling walked away towards the restaurant’s dining room.

  A voice on the other end of the phone picked up, “Yeah, it’s me. It’s done. We got that fucker, Vinny. … Yeah man! Dead as a fuckin’ doornail. He’s laying on the kitchen floor with a knife sticking out his back and my handprints around his neck. If that ain’t gonna please the boys in charge, I don’t know what will get me—“

  The man fell forward onto the prep table. The cellphone in his hand crashed to the ground as he lost his grip. Vinny stood over him, as he pulled the bloody knife out of the man’s body and plunged it in and out two more times for good measure.

  “What the fuck happened here?” Benni had entered the kitchen. He had a black eye and blood covered hands, but he was relatively untouched compared to his man.

  Vinny turned slowly around, panting and shaking. The pain caught up to him, causing him to fall back down to his knees. He could only get out a few words before he lost consciousness once again, “Calvin is here.”

  Vinny had little memory of the rest of the day. All he is able to remember is the feeling of warmth come over him as an IV of medicine dripped into his veins. A man in white stood before him, inspecting his head and neck. Nurses circled his bed as they carried bags and bags of blood that would later be transfused into him.

  He had thought Benni was the one responsible for him getting the proper medical attention that he had needed. However, how Benni held the gun pointed directly at Vinny’s temple made him reconsider that possibility.

  Vinny looked up at Benni, this time lowering his arms slowly. He repeated his last question slowly and deliberately, “Benni, what’s goin’ on?”

  “You tell me, you dumb fuck! Did you and that whore really think you would get away with it?” Benni stepped even closer to Vinny, the gun now resting against Vinny’s tan forehead.

  Only one bit of what he had said had caught Vinny’s attention, “Gloria? What does she have to do with any of this?”

  “That bitch ratted us out. How do you think the Devils knew where we were and where we were goin’? Your girl got herself caught and then narked to get herself free.”

  “That ain’t true,” Vinny spat—though he caught himself defending her before he could think about what he truly wanted to say.

  “You trusted her. We told you to watch out for her. You failed, and you managed to get four men killed and twenty others put outta commission.” Benni temporarily put down his guard as he started to pace. He ran his hands through his hair and then again pointed the gun back at Vinny. “I shoulda killed you after I saw you puss out on Calvin in the parking lot. Now I’m gonna finish the job personally.”

  “Wait! Benni, think about this. Gloria had nothin’ to do with it. Whoever told you she narked was lying. S
he don’t snitch! Why would she? She knows the Devils would just kill her anyways.” Vinny had to make Benni see the reasoning behind this.

  “You’re a fuckin’ idiot! She tricked you. She was in on it the whole time. If we would have stayed at the quarry, we could have helped the guys fight off the men. But you got that mysterious email and we went right to their trap. Who do you think sent that warning to you? Who do you think wanted you to die more than anyone else?”

  Vinny fell back on his knees as he caught his breath. Benni had a point. Gloria had to have been the person who emailed him that message to head to Cattlemen’s Ranch instead of the quarry. She knew he would trust her to go wherever she told him to, and the Devils knew it, too. Gloria was with the Devils. It was the only explanation. “Fuck!” Vinny screamed as he pounded his fists into the glass as he came to terms with the inevitable. The rest of the men stared at him as he rose to his feet to stand. “I’m gonna find that bitch and kill her myself. Let me do that for you, boss.”