Twisted in Chaos (Destructive Devastation #2)

Chapter 11

Well, my quiet escape was foiled before I even had a chance to press on the accelerator of my precious car. Turning my escape from the estate into an eventful affair.

More guards than necessary stood outside the mansion at every fucking corner with guns drawn, firing in my direction. Several shots hit my car, pinging through the aluminum and by my feet. I swear, if it were an inch over, my leg would be obliterated, and my father would get his wish. My death.

Fucking Gabriel. It is like they had a sixth sense I would take my leave.

Or someone who saw my escape tipped him off.

Maybe I should have gone with a bulletproof fucking car like Shepp suggested. Instead, I chose the fast, fun car. Bulletproof cars are too heavy for the fun I like to have. My car is the only splurge to bring me joy. Every other decision I’ve made has been out of necessity and duty. This baby, though? All for a good time.

“My goddamn car!” I shout, gunning the accelerator until my car makes it to the automatic gate, where it easily opens for me.

If my father hadn’t noticed I was gone before. Well, now he knows. His threats from earlier ring in my mind.

“If you even attempt to escape, I have someone on standby at Arrow’s bedside.”

Arrow. That motherfucker seems unkillable. Indestructible, at best. He is always getting fucked up and smiles about it. If he bleeds, he laughs. Nothing can take him down. At least, that is what I am telling myself, rushing to be by his side.

My tires screech as I veer onto the main stretch of road, accelerating toward the hospital ten minutes away. The needle climbs higher and higher, matching the anxiety skyrocketing inside me. My family’s safety is at the forefront of my damn mind.

Hospital. Arrow. Olivia.

In that goddamn order.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” I grunt at my car, driving as quickly and safely as I can. I am no use to them if I die in a fiery crash on the side of the road.

My heart pounds harder than before. Pummeling through my damn ribs the further I get away from the mansion. Breathe. Live. Fucking make it there safely.

Five minutes down. Five minutes to go to make it to Arrow’s side. The clock is fucking ticking, and it is not on my damn side.

If Arrow, the indestructible, fucking dies. My sanity will slip like sand through my fingers, getting lost in the winds.

Ring.

My muscles lock up when his name flashes on the large screen of my car, displaying who’s calling at such an ungodly hour.

Gabriel Viotto.

No surprise there. Undoubtedly, his guards were the first ones to run inside and snitch about my escape.

Against my better judgment, I answer the damn call.

“Gabriel,” I reply smoothly, maneuvering around a slow-going car and slamming back into the right lane.

“Jericho.” His stern, anger-filled voice rings throughout my car.

I would bow my head in submission if I were a weaker man. But I am not. He is. I have been stronger, bigger, and better than him for years.

It’s time he realizes it.

“You left.”

“Indeed,” I hum nonchalantly, nearly running over the curb as I pull into the hospital parking lot. That’s one way to stay discreet. Not. “Did you expect any less?”

I push the car into park, heaving a breath when everything slows down around me. I focus on my surroundings, noting the dark parking lot and lack of people. I’m far enough away that no one has noticed me.

“No.” I raise a brow at his words. “But now I understand where your loyalties lie. You’ve signed your death warrant, son.”

I roll my eyes as I reach and grab my bag from the passenger’s seat.

“My loyalties lie with the family and their best interest,” I retort, grabbing my phone from my pocket and bringing it to my ear after switching the call from my car to my phone and shutting off the engine. “Something you’re failing.”

“Failing?” he seethes.

I smirk. Poking the bear will become my favorite pastime. After I save Arrow from his coma, of course.

“You’re forgetting who raised you. Who molded you into the man you are now,” he growls again, slamming his fist down. I hear it thump against a wooden surface. Then he does it again, roaring through the phone with disdain.

My hackles immediately rise at the thump of his fist. The way the wood creaks and moans with every hit. I know exactly where he is.

He’s in my domain—my office.

My sacred place of dwelling, filled with my books and a secured safe with essential documents. But more importantly, my violin. I suck in a quiet breath, attempting to calm my nerves. That’s my precious baby that soothes all the wrongs in the world, bringing me back from the brink of terrible things. When I need a second to breathe, my violin brings me that peace.

Now, she’s in danger at the hands of my sadistic father.

The squeak of a hinge has my brows tightening. He’s opening the case . My breath slows to a fucking halt. Blood echoes in my ears, pounding with the beat of my desperate heart.

They say to hit a man where it hurts the most. For the most part, that’s his balls. But my father has an eye for detail. Take my girl and friends and put them in a terrible situation, so I’ll follow his rules. I will follow, but escape will always be on my mind.

But this? This has my muscles frozen, locking in place and leaving me vulnerable when I should not be.

“You hear it, son?” he says in an even tone, breathing harshly through the phone. “I know how much this means to you. This chunk of wood you have dedicated your life to.” Yeah, because he made me play it for entertainment purposes, forcing me to practice for hours on end until my fingers bled.

The tunes are my escape now. It’s what takes me away when the world becomes too dim and my demons are nipping at my heels. It leaves me breathless. In the best way, of course. And now, he’s gone and tainted my happiness.

Again.

My tongue locks between my teeth. Unable to speak or move when the first impact echoes through the phone.

It cries out, begging me to come and save it.

The second hard impact is deafening. Static fills my ears. Despair roars through my lifeless veins, lighting a fire of rage beneath my flesh. A sharp, explosive crack has my entire body shaking. With rage? Sadness? I am not quite sure.

The finale of his audio show explodes through the phone, landing the mark he so desperately wanted. The sound of splintering wood being pounded into my desk happens repeatedly. The strings whine, protesting the destruction. One by one, they snap from the force, giving one last high-pitched note of agony before falling silent and dying under his hand. The hollow body of my precious violin is no match for my father’s brute strength and destructive behaviors.

He’ll kill anything and anyone I love to get me to bend to his rules.

Even an inanimate object.

I sit silently, completely thrown off when he gets back on the phone, panting in my ear and awaiting my response.

He will get none.

“Are you done?” I say as bored as I can. Not giving him any hint of the distress sending my heart into a frenzy. Instead, I reroute the conversation. He will never get the satisfaction of knowing he’s hit me where it hurts. Again. “I’m not forgetting who raised me, Father,” I say, quietly climbing from my vehicle and gently closing the door behind me.

Forget about it. Don’t think about what brought you joy. There are more important people to focus on. So, that’s what I do. He destroyed my one-of-a-kind violin. So be it. I will buy another. Something better. More beautiful.

My eyes move through the surroundings again, taking in the empty parking lot with a few cars scattered in spots here and there. But it’s lifeless without a person in sight, seeming deader than what I expected.

Suspicious.

So, if my father expected me to be here, he probably would have security stationed randomly throughout the property, ready to attack.

He’s got deep pockets, but mine are deeper.

I move through the shadows with my father’s frantic breathing in my ear. He should take up cardio to soothe that wheeze in his voice. Or maybe he’s getting sick like I witnessed earlier and it’s bringing him down.

“Your efforts were not enough. You’re too late to save Arrow. You think I’d keep him alive?” He snarls rabidly into the phone. So much so I can practically feel the spittle on my face.

It’s a threat. That’s all. My father wants me to believe his words when I haven’t believed him for years. Every word he spews is garbage wrapped in more fucking manipulations.

I’m done.

“And kill one of your greatest assets?” I question coolly, eyeing the outside of the hospital, searching for my point of entry.

I spy two men attempting to appear discreet, standing near the emergency room entrance. They linger on the outside, reading newspapers.

How discreet and not suspicious of them. Considering their guns bulge in their pants. Their beady eyes take in the surroundings. Obviously, my father gave his guards the heads up that I was on my way.

“Greatest assets?” my father chuckles at me. “You’re all disposable. Everyone is. You’ve gotten me things I wanted. Maybe I have no use for you now.” Liar, liar. Pants on fire.

“Yeah? And what about the wedding, then? Weren’t you going to keep me locked tight so you could fulfill an alliance?”

Fuck. I roam the shadows, checking every door around the perimeter, and come up empty. Every door has guards with guns. I’m not equipped to get past them without causing a scene.

My knives will get me nowhere with guns.

My father chuckles. “You think you know what I’m capable of and what my intentions are? But you don’t know, son. I’m a million steps ahead of you. Always. You may be the son who rebelled, but I have another one in my back pocket.”

“You what?” I freeze.

“You truly think you’re the only Viotto child I’ve kept alive?” He’s got to be fucking kidding me, right?

“Keeping me alive is a severe understatement when you were barely around growing up.”

Finally, I spot a first-story window that slides open—an answer to my unspoken prayers and no guards in sight. Thankfully, someone forgot to lock it. I kick the screen into the darkened room and carefully crawl through, landing in a small administrative office.

“My plans will move forward, with or without you.”

Click.

My nose wrinkles when I pull my phone back and check the screen. Of course, Gabriel got the last damn word. No matter.

Arrow is my number one priority right now. The faster I get to him now that Gabriel isn’t preoccupied, the better off we will be.

Because I cannot lose my best friend.

Using my phone as a flashlight, I make my way through the small office and find the door. Thankfully, there’s a deadbolt on my side, and I unlock it with a soft click. Once the door opens a crack, I peek down the empty halls.

Administrative Wing.

Perfect. It is common knowledge that no one works these floors at night, except the janitors. And tonight, it seems completely desolate. Silent. With no humans around.

Unfortunately, the cameras in the corners of the halls will catch my every move, following my every step. If I had more time, I would have studied their blind spots to circumvent them seeing me. Fuck. But it’s a move I have to make. A mistake that needs to happen.

Arrow needs me to stop whatever my father is up to. And I need my best friend alive and well.

I make a quick exit and follow the hall with my head down, eyeing the signs guiding me toward the stairwell. Every step I take toward the second floor has my teeth on edge. There’s no doubt there will be more guards outside Arrow’s room. My father has everyone in his arsenal out to correct my escape. With another heir, whoever that may be, in my father’s back pocket, they’ll shoot me on sight. What use am I now if he can’t force me to marry Chloe?

But also, who is this mysterious man that’s his heir? Or is he bluffing?

My heart pounds when I slowly open the door and peek out onto the second floor, eyeing every nook and cranny for my father’s guards. I’m not sure what side Arrow will be on, but I’m guessing not this side. The halls are empty. No guards are present.

Tiptoeing through the hospital with a knife in my hands was not on my to-do list for today. But here I am, listening to every beep, whisper, and footstep with suspicion.

I slip into a room, hiding in the doorway’s shadows as a frantic nurse rushes past. With a gulp, I palm my knife, regaining control. I was bred for this and brought up with the concept of taking people’s lives without remorse and hiding without anxiety. I am my father’s best weapon. Only, I don’t think he realizes what he’s created over the years.

Once the coast is clear, I follow the numbers until I’m near Arrow’s.

My brows furrow when no one stands outside, guarding his room. That’s unusual. Not Gabriel’s style. Unless…. A drumbeat erupts beneath my ribs, echoing in my ears as the realization dawns on me. They are inside. With Arrow. Snuffing the life out of his body and leaving him for me to discover.

My grip tightens on the knife again, ready to strike if necessary. If they are in there following the orders my father put in place, then I’ll kill them.

Images of the men hovering above Arrow’s lifeless body run through my mind. My skin tightens and tingles. My hair stands on end when I make my silent steps forward, standing outside his darkened room.

Slowly, I enter with my heart in my throat, eyeing the semi-empty room.

Despite wanting to rage and fucking throw things, I keep my composure. Arrow. My best friend, since we were kids, lies on the hospital bed with his eyes shut.

Pale. Lifeless.

So unlike Arrow.

All I can picture is the end of my friend’s life.

Then there is her. None the wiser of my presence.

One nurse, standing with a needle in one hand and his IV bag in her other. Her hand shakes as she gently squeezes whatever is into the syringe into his line.

“Remove the needle,” I bark, raising the knife. “Or bleed.” I won’t hesitate to end her fucking life for threatening Arrow’s. We normally do not harm women or children. But this? This is necessary for his safety.

She yelps, dropping everything in her hands. Stepping back, she shakes her head repeatedly.

“Stop!”

I march toward her, cornering her against the wall. A red mist tinges my vision at the prospect of what she is about to do.

“Will he live?” I growl, holding the knife against her throat.

One slice is all it would take to end her before she kills my friend.

She shakes in my grasp. “Yes,” she quivers out. “I was…I-I was waking him up.” Her lower lip trembles under my glare, and tears shine in her eyes.

“Waking him up?” I ask coolly, keeping my weapon where it is.

“Y-yes,” she whispers again.

“On whose orders?”

“M-my own,” she says as tears stream down her cheeks.

“And why would you do that? You know who he is?” My eyes drift to her name badge.

Lori R.N.

Something odd sparks in the back of my mind. A familiarity hitting me hard. I have seen her before.

“I-I checked his charts. Someone purposely put him into a coma,” she trails off when I slowly lift the knife. She gestures to an iPad beside his bed, and I let her get it. “S-see? Right here. It is in his orders. But no other injuries called for this concoction of meds.”

“And you decided this all on your own?”

“Mr. Viotto,” she murmurs, swallowing hard. “Arrow saved me not too long ago. You all did.”

I tilt my head. “Lori…”

“I came to you not too long ago, begging for a loan. My husband was a drunk. Abusive to my kids and me. I came to you for safety. You gave me a home, money, and a car. I was able to protect my kids, get back into nursing, and form a new life. Without your help, I never would have achieved this. I owe you.”

I stare at her. Every word she says pierced through my armor, and my muscles relax a little. Considering the circumstances, I will not fully let go until Arrow is awake and we are at Olivia’s.

“Lori Heins.”

“Yes,” she whispers.

I take her in. She is in much better condition than the last time I saw her. More meat on her bones. Fewer bruises. She looks healthy after leaving her husband behind. Of course, after that visit Arrow managed to find the time to stop by Mr. Hein’s home and give him a message from the Viotto’s.

Do not fuck with women.

“You say they purposely put him into a coma?” I raise a brow. Aiden told me as much in his distressed state, but I’m eager to confirm my father’s psychopathic plans.

“Y-yes,” she stutters again, heaving a breath. “He was brought in yesterday after the tower collapsed. He was subdued after a small injury to his hands. The doctor on call pumped him full of these drugs to make him sleep. All because of your father. He was here, ordering them to do it.” I wonder if that’s the same treatment I got. Except my confinement was to my bed. Not here.

“No other injuries?” I question with curiosity, praying that he wasn’t harmed in the fight.

“No. It seems he was fine. Other than the hurt shoulder and hands.” She shakes her head.

“And you can wake him?”

“It might take up to twenty-four hours for the drug to kick in and rouse him,” she says softly, staring down at him.

With irritation, I rub my temples. I don’t have a day to wait around and wake him up. I need him with me. But I need to get to Olivia as quickly as I can. It’s of utmost importance for Journey and Shepp’s survival. The sooner I get them away from Shadow’s Island. The better off they’ll be. Who knows what they’re up against there?

I’m torn in two. My family is spread too thin and far away. Journey and Shepp reside with Shadow. A mysterious ruler of his people, attacking us left and right to gain land through disputes. And Arrow. He’s here. Right in front of me, and his life depends on me getting him to safety. He’s vulnerable. Unable to take care of himself and fight, the guards are eager to kill him. I need to move him. Take him with me—anything to bring him to safety.

But I can’t.

Arrow will be a giant flag on my shoulder, begging them to come and find us. Same with wheeling him out in a wheelchair. I checked. Every entrance and exit has guards surrounding it, waiting for me to come out so they can open fire. I’ll be dead. No use to Arrow that way. Or the others. There is no solution in which I can get him out of this hospital undetected. And sooner rather than later, they’ll be in this room with guns at the ready, trying to take our lives.

So, what do I do? How do I fix this giant mess my father and Shadow created in their mixed plans of domination?

“Fuck,” I grunt, thrusting my fist into the wall. My breaths come in heavy pants, and I lean my forehead against the cool tile, calming myself down.

“Mr. Viotto,” she whispers, startling me out of my funk. She gently takes my hand, her bony fingers examining the blood coating my knuckles.

“You say it’ll take a day?” I ask in a deep voice, yanking my hand back.

I ignore the searing pain and opt to pretend it doesn’t exist. What is pain, anyway? Nothing but a weakness that drags me down when I need to be strong for them.

She nods shakily, observing my reaction.

“He can’t stay here. But I can’t fucking carry him out of here,” I growl. “They’ll kill him if they find him. I’m not even supposed to be here.”

Everything is spinning out of control and slipping between my fingers and blowing in the damn wind. I don’t have the extra time.