“... Jessica. Jessica. Jessica.” Calvin was almost shouting know as he recognized Vinny’s question to Quimby. He tried to pull his chest against the ropes only to remember his situation and relent.
Quimby tossed the woman down against the wall of the basement’s wood paneling like she weighed, and meant, nothing. Her body fell awkwardly to the side as he strode over to where Calvin was still tied up tight against a metal dining chair. Calvin continued to chant her name as if she could hear him despite being unconscious.
Vinny’s accomplice couldn’t stand him as he punched him with all of his strength as he shouted down, “Shut up, old man! Unless you got something to say, I don’t wanna hear it. Not that she can hear you anyways.”
Quimby’s punched stunned Vinny as he stood back up to meet his glance. The two men were toe to toe with Vinny screaming, “What the fuck man! He was talking!”
Vinny was getting fed up with Quimby. He had worked with many other enforcers, some more ruthless and bloodthirsty than others, but Quimby had far outdone those. Him punching Calvin in the chest was unnecessary. He couldn’t imagine what he had done to Jessica while they were upstairs.
Quimby lifted his arms up to push Vinny off of him. He walked back to where Jessica was, clearly seeing Vinny’s concern. “She ain’t dead, but she will be soon unless he’s finally coming around. Did he tell you where that little asshole of a son is?”
Vinny again knelt before Calvin, hoping and praying Calvin would come back and finish his explanation before it was too late. But he was silent now; the punch had done its damage. Vinny gave him as much as he could: “While you were gone, he said somethin’ about the Devils. Maybe Devils Land? Does that ring any bells to you?”
“As far as I know, they mainly run outta that place in Sampson on Peterson Street.” Quimby had taken a seat on the ground near Jessica. He was using his shirt to wipe the blood from Calvin’s wound off the shiny, thick blade while he stared at her as if he were willing her to wake up again.
“Naw man, it has somethin’ to do with land. Lake maybe a landscaping racket or something?” Vinny stood as the picture came to him. “Calvin didn’t say nothin’ about Peterson Street or Sampson.”
“Are you sure he’s not just playin’ you? C’mon man, everybody knows their base is on Peterson. He could have just been feedin’ you bullshit to get this to stop.”
Quimby had a point. Vinny had been so quick to trust Calvin with his few hints that he failed to think he could be just unconsciously talking about his son’s associations and the only couple things he knew about the Devils. Vinny paced circles around Calvin’s chair, his hand running through his hair as he tried to think of something, anything.
“You sure there’s nothin’ about the word ‘land’? I don’t know why he’d be talkin’ ‘bout land if there wasn’t somethin’ to do with where Junior is.” Vinny hated being a detective as much as he knew Quimby would. But if it got his partner to calm down a second, he may be able to save a life or two tonight.
Quimby continued to wipe down his blade as he off handedly said, “Fuck if I know. Just keep beatin’ him. Motherfucker’s gonna die anyways, might as well make this night interesting.”
“What are you talking about?” Quimby had just stepped way over the line, enraging Vinny. “Who the fuck put you in charge? He’s cooperating now as far as we know. We were given instructions not to kill him unless word comes from Benni.”
“That ain’t what I heard,” Quimby said nonchalantly. “Benni said to do what had to be done.”
“That doesn’t mean we just kill him and the wife! That’s insane man. That would start a war.”
“Who gives a fuck what it starts.” A sly, taunting look went over his face as Quimby added, “Plus, didn’t you kill their leader? By my accounts that’s a pretty big war-starter itself. What's a couple more bodies?”
Vinny spat on the cement ground threateningly. “I don’t kill nobody just because they ain’t talking. That ain’t in my job description.”
“So what do you do, you little faggot?” Quimby demanded, shoving Vinny a bit. “‘Cause from where I’m standin’, it looks like you’re just as weak as that little bitch tied to the chair. I heard what Benni said. You wanna call up Benni and have a conversation about how he would like us to proceed?”
As Quimby produced his phone from his pocket, Vinny yelled forcibly, “I don’t need you to run to your mommy to check. I know what’s gotta happen.” Without another word, Vinny ran up to Quimby and grabbed his knife out of his other hand. The tool was thick and cold despite being held in Quimby’s sweaty palms. Vinny slowly turned it over and over in the palm of his hand as he traced the red line of blood with his fingertips. What he was about to do would only make the knife heavier.
Slowly, he approached Calvin’s chair and shouted his name one more time, his breath picking up speed as he tried to find all of the courage and energy to pull this one last attempt off. “C’mon, you stupid motherfucker! Just tell me where your son is, or you’re gonna die! You hear me? I’m gonna fucking kill you!”
Calvin made no signs of recognition. No attempts to come to. Vinny’s cries just grew stronger and more urgent as he began, “You’ve got ten seconds. Ten! Nine! Eight!...”
Vinny’s shouts grew louder and louder, breaking through the silence of the night. Calvin’s eyes remained tightly shut, but his breathing sped up unnaturally as the clear signs of fear overtook him, “Seven! Six!”
“That ain’t gonna work, man!” Quimby stared Vinny down to see what he was going to do, the cellphone still clenched in his hand. “Just fucking do it!”
Vinny continued counting, “Six! Five!” Blood rushed to the hand Vinny was holding the knife in as he shook with rage. He didn’t want to do this. But he had to. “Four! Three!”
Abruptly Calvin opened his mouth to cry out, “JESSICA! I LOVE YOU! LISTEN TO ME! I LOVE YOU!” Calvin had tried to turn his neck to see where his wife was, but he was shaking too hard to make a real attempt at it spotting where her body rested, still slumped on the floor.
“Three! Tw—”
The piercing sound of Vinny’s cellphone ringer went off, breaking the fever pitch tension and catching the enforcer and everyone else in the room completely off guard. Without a second to process it all, he thought to himself, “Benni.” No one else knew exactly where he and Quimby were, and no one else had business with him tonight. It had to be him. And Vinny was obligated to answer the message if it was. He pulled the phone out of his pocket with his free hand.
“What’re you doing? Just kill him!” Quimby had rose to his feet and tumbled toward Vinny. But the younger man was quicker as Vinny took five steps away to stand in the better light. It was a text message, one from a number he did not immediately recognize. The white words against the black, blank screen read: “Cops on their way. Two minutes. Get out now!”
Quimby grabbed at him, attempting to take the phone from his hands. “What the fuck are you doing? Who was that?” He had spotted the look of terror that had crossed Vinny’s face and watched helplessly as Vinny tossed the knife in his back pocket.
He leaned down again to Calvin to whisper one last threat, “You tell the cops or anyone who we are or what happened to you tonight, we’ll be back. And next time, there won’t be ten seconds to save you—or Jessica. That’s a promise.”
With that, Vinny flew upstairs, running past where Jessica laid. He was even more careful not to touch anything with his hands, though they were still covered in the black leather riding gloves he had worn since he entered the house. In the distance, sirens were growing louder and closer. They were unmistakable now. When he realized what those noises were, Quimby, too, took off, following his partner outside to where their bikes were waiting.
The men hopped on and slowly pulled out of the driveway. Vinny lead the way as they rode side by side down the small streets. As they approached the intersection, he listened to the road more carefully before choosing to head out right in th
e direction opposite of where he had guessed the sirens were coming from.
For a split second before turning the corner, Vinny looked back at the Smith’s home as it slowly fell out of his view of his handlebars mirrors. The lights were still off; the doors were shut. The windows were unbroken. All that remained was the scene in the basement with Jessica probably still completely knocked out and Calvin still tied tightly to the bloody and broken chair. It was a scene he was unfamiliar with, a scene straight out of some horror action movie he wouldn’t buy a ticket to.
But next to the home, only a couple homes down, there was something he was more used to seeing. It was beat up, rusted, and cracked. In the front seat, he could just barely make out the silhouette of a woman hunched down, trying to hide her face. Her phone was to her ear as she covered her mouth with her hand. She was staring right at the men as they drove off. She could have been a witness and, in fact, she had probably seen too much. But despite the lack of light and the slowly growing distance between them, Vinny could still recognize that pin straight blonde hair and those scheming fiery eyes from anywhere. It was Gloria.
Gloria had somehow managed to break away from her watch and show up at the Smith’s house in time to see Vinny and Quimby destroy the lives of the family. In the few hours she had been out, she had managed to save them and screw them both all at the same time.
Vinny looked over to where Quimby was riding. From his vantage point, Vinny suspected he had not seen Gloria sitting and waiting in her car. He was focused on getting out of the neighborhood before the cops came, and he was intent on following Vinny as he led them back to the Black Horsemen’s headquarters.
Vinny was impatient to get back, for as he watched Gloria’s car start up and turn in the opposite direction of their bikes, he now understood what he had to do.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The doors of the entranceway slammed shut behind them, sealing the men inside together.
“Did you get it? Do you know where that motherfucker is?” Benni clapped his hands and rubbed the palms together eagerly as he waited for one of his boys to speak.
“Not exactly. We were gonna ge—” Vinny had spent the entire ride over trying to think of something, anything to say to Benni that would make this situation go away. But he didn’t have to think too long.
Quimby had already interrupted him. “We ain’t got shit, boss.”
“What are you two incompetent bastards talking about?” Benni was impatient for excuses. The men had a simple task and yet they dared come back without results. This was unacceptable.
Vinny put his hand against Quimby’s chest as the man began to speak. Vinny was not going to let him blow this out of the water or to get them in more trouble than they already were. After all, Vinny did have something; at least, he thought he had something. “We were close to getting it all out, but he was out fast from the beating and then we heard sirens and had to book it out of there before we could finish the job.”
“What about the couple? Are they still alive?”
Vinny had hoped he would not answer it. There was no such thing as witnesses in the motorcycle club world. 1%ers never got caught for a reason. There was never anyone left to talk. “Naw, naw, they’re still there. But we scared the shit out of them. They’re not going to talk, not if they know what is good for them.”
“What the fuck, guys? You two are my most experienced men. Now, you’re tellin’ me that not only did you fail to get any information, but you let the couple live to rat us out?” Benni was completely beside himself. When he gave out the assignment, he figured that Vinny’s will to live would bypass any trepidation he may have regarding the beat down. However, the Vinny standing in front of him was a new man, someone who could not be trusted to let his emotions get in the way of doing an honest job.
“Benni,” Vinny said defensively, “Chill. We did get somethin’.”
“What do you mean ‘somethin’?” Benni stared at him, unsure of if he was worth trusting anymore. Everything he had said had just meant more and more lies and failure.
“Calvin Senior kept saying something about ‘land.’ Over and over again.”
“He was sayin’ ‘Devils land,’ man. It don’t mean nothin’. He was trying to say that Junior’s with the Devils.” Quimby, too, was growing impatient with Vinny. He just wanted to get his punishment for not completing a job out of the way. He was not one to try to weasel out of a situation like Vinny.
“Shut the fuck up, Quimby. You weren’t even in the room. You were too busy doing who knows what to Calvin’s wife.” Vinny turned his attention back to Benni. “He did not say those two words together. It wasn’t ‘Devils land.” It was ‘Devils’ and ‘land.’ Two separate things.”
“And what the fuck does that mean? The Devils don’t own any land outside the headquarters. Their territory stretches from the Quarry to Wildwood Farm.”
A light bulb went on. “That’s it. I know where he is.” Vinny’s mind raced as he tried to think of the possibilities. His voice sped up as he explained, “He’s at Landcaster, Landcaster Quarry. He was a drug runner and that was their pick up spot. It makes sense he’s there in a safe house or campsite or something. It’s a big space in an unwatched area. They know no one is stupid enough to ride down there.”
Benni peered at him with his beady, strained eyes. “You sure, man? You’re certain that this isn’t some trap or set up by the Devils to get us to cross lines to their high ground?”
“I dunno, boss. But, I mean, Calvin ain’t the type to get roped into somethin’ like this. We had to beat him senseless to just get that much out of him. Seems to me like he was telling the truth to save his life.”
Benni looked over his shoulder to where Quimby sat. He was leaned back in a leather chair with his feet resting on one of the meeting room’s card tables. Picking his teeth and checking his phone, he barely registered when Benni asked him, “What do you think? You think Junior’s at the quarry? Can Calvin be trusted?”
“Calvin’s a pussy. He don’t know shit about what’s goin’ on with his bitch of a son. I still think he was bullshittin’ to get us to stop.”
“Yeah, but you fuckin’ stopped him from clearin’ up what he meant. Great job on that one, dumbfuck.” Vinny could not hide the disdain and sarcasm in his voice. He could not care if he showed his discontent over his partner situation to his leader.
“Fine. So I’m making the call, then.” Benni paused a long while as he looked about the empty room until he came to his conclusion. “We’re riding to the quarry tomorrow night.”
“Why not tonight? Aren’t we givin’ them enough time to warn Junior about us comin’ for him?” Quimby was itching to get back out there with the open road before him and a knife gripped firmly in his hand. This was the stuff, the thrill he lived for.
“We don’t have the manpower tonight. Plus, we’ll put the day watch on the Smith family temporarily. They so much as pick up the phone or attempt to contact the police or the Devils, we’ll know about it.”
“Wait—” Vinny didn’t understand all that he had just said. “Are you taking the watch off of Gloria or you calling in reinforcements?”
“Taking it off of your woman for a night. Boys called in and said she hadn’t left the house once or moved from her bedroom. I told them to take the rest of the night off.” Benni had no idea how much of a lie that was. Gloria was the entire reason why the plan had not gone as smoothly as they had hoped. If he had any inkling that she managed to escape, Vinny would not be hearing the next instructions. “She ain’t goin’ anywhere anytime soon it looks, but I want you to stay there while the boys stake out the Smith’s place. You got it?”
“Yeah. I got it. I’ll go tonight, then. You can give the boys off a night—rest them up for tomorrow.” Vinny said it as nonchalantly as possibly as he picked up his gear from the table and turned his back on the two men and headed toward the exit.
“You’re takin’ Quimby again. Wherever you go, he’s goin’.�
�� Benni was not about to let Vinny get away so quickly. He didn’t trust, or like, Quimby, but he knew he was the only other man in the club besides himself that could keep Vinny in line. Or, at least he knew how to go the distance to keep him straight.
“Fuck that, Benni! That son of a bitch don’t know nothin’ about being an enforcer.” Vinny was back to raging. Benni’s mistrust was understood, but he was not about to let Quimby in on their relationship.
“What, you afraid I’m gonna get in the way of you bangin’ her?” Quimby laughed heartily at his own joke.
Benni rubbed his forehead in frustration. “You’ll both watch outside tomorrow ‘til I send reinforcements in the afternoon. No one goes inside. She tries to flee or communicate with anyone, Quimby has my direct order to kill her. You got that?” He pointed at Vinny as Vinny swallowed hard and nodded his head in acknowledgment. “I expect to see both of you here tomorrow night when I call. We’ll talk about the Gloria situation after Junior’s taken care of.”
Ride Me Hard (Black Horsemen MC Book 2) Page 5