Twisted in Chaos (Destructive Devastation #2)

Chapter 13

Whenever I find Journey again, we’re going to play a rousing game of doctor and patient. The medicine? My dick and cum. Then, she’ll be all better. No more ailments for my girl.

I grin, looking at myself in the mirror. Green scrubs cling to my body. Which still feels weak after being under. My legs wobble with every step. Hence, my new disguise. I’ll cover my face and hair with this fun get-up, steal a car, find a charger, and then track down Jericho. He’s earned a sharp punch to the jaw.

Although, I think I could still take down a grown-ass man if need be. I’ll poke him with a tongue depressor. Oh! And the scalpel I found in the closet filled with doctor’s things. All I need now is my white coat, and my outfit will be complete.

Doctor role-play, here I come.

My eyes roam over the small closet I found in the deserted wing Lori left me in. There’s absolutely no sign of life here. All the hallways are dark and gloomy. Perfect for washing away wanted men.

Show time.

I step out of the closet with my scrubs, face mask, and surgical hat to hide my hair. I look quite official if I do say so myself.

Humming softly, I walked toward the stairs. Thankfully, I’m on the second floor. I descend the stairs with my head held high. Fake it till you make it, I always say. I’ve had to pretend to fit in for most of my life. Well, fit in is a loose phrase. I’ve always been on my own plane or existence—in Arrow land. I’ve never quite conformed to my father’s expectations. I got so bad that he basically sold me to the mafia. With good intentions, I guess. He wanted the best for his son.

And boy, did Gabriel take advantage of that.

I hate the man with every fiber of my being. He used, abused, and fucking annihilated our childhoods. Jericho got locked in dark rooms. At nine, he trained me to kill, and at fifteen, I went on a mission with him, taking my first life. Ever. And Shepp. He had his own hell to live through with his own shade of nightmare.

But Gabriel taught me everything I know. That’s the only thing I’m thankful for right now.

The bright lights of the Briar Cove Hospital lobby come into view as I step out of the stairwell. My eyes dart around the place, looking for the telltale signs of Gabriel’s guards. They never seem to be too inconspicuous, always standing out among the civilians.

Take the guy reading a paper by the large windows. Every so often, his eyes dart around, looking for someone. Or something. Maybe me. He never turns the page. And besides Jericho’s old man ass, who has time to read the paper?

Stupid spies. That’s who.

He’s dumb, anyway. I walk right past him as he takes another look around the room. I wonder if they expected me to waltz out of this hospital in my suit with a grin. Probably. If I had weapons —real ones—I would have. What better place to kill bad guys than at the hospital?

Without incident, I walk through the automatic sliding doors and stop outside the hospital. Two men lean against poles, holding up the overhang above us. Their eyes scan the parking lot.

Idiots.

I’m right here.

I could saunter right by them without saying a word. But where’s the fun in that? Besides, Gabriel needs to recognize his mistakes—which is a lot—starting with the whole coma ordeal.

“Excuse me, sirs,” I say in a deeper voice than usual. “Do either of you have an Android phone?”

They both whip their gazes at me, eyeing me up and down. All they find is the icy color of my eyes, which cloud over when their brows furrow. Discreetly, I reach into my pocket, palming the scalpel I stole. If surgeons can use them to slice through flesh. Why can’t I? They look fun. In another life, maybe I would have been a surgeon.

“Yeah. Why do you ask?” The one on the right confirms, eyeing me up and down with suspicion, pulling out his phone.

He should be suspicious.

Because he has the same phone as me. Meaning his charger will work with mine. Man, I love it when everything comes together so easily.

“Got a charger?” I ask again in my deep voice.

He nods slowly, jerking his thumb over his shoulder and indicating his charger is in his car. Perfect. I’ve officially found my getaway car.

What a nice fella.

My brows furrow as I stare at the man’s side. “You’re bleeding!” I point at his side, causing him to lose focus when he peers down.

“No, I’m…”

But he doesn’t get to finish his sentence when I jam the scalpel into his side over and over. He cries out. Boo hoo. Screaming at me to stop. But I can’t at the sight of red dripping onto the concrete, pulling my focus to it.

“Whoops,” I say with a manic laugh. “Yeah, now you’re bleeding.” I shift my other hand into his pockets, stealing and pocketing his keys.

Oh, and his phone, too.

“You’re a dumber motherfucker than I thought you’d be. Almost had me fooled,” the one behind me snarls, pushing the tip of a gun into the back of my skull.

Oh, I’m so scared.

Not.

“I want you to do me a favor,” I hum, releasing the man I stabbed and reveling in his pain when he falls to his knees, holding his side.

Didn’t Gabriel teach these wannabes anything? Obviously not. He needs a new training camp for these pussies to go through. Like the ones we had to go through. They were tough and rigid, teaching us how to fight through the pain and all that.

“I don’t give favors to dead men,” he snarls, pushing the muzzle further into my scalp. “I was given instructions to shoot on sight.”

Ah, then he’s defying a direct order. Also, how rude of Gabriel to murder me on sight. The coward had me in a coma. The fucking audacity of that man.

“Didn’t they ever teach you executions 101? Or did you skip that class, too?” I huff with disappointment. “The worst mistake you could ever make is this…” I grin when I swivel on my feet, nearly going deaf when the asshole pulls the trigger. Thankfully, the round shoots to the side of my head before I can knock the gun out of his hand. It clatters to the ground. “Never put the muzzle of a gun directly against someone. It’s amateur shit, my dude.”

I grin when my fist connects with his face over and over, rendering him useless on the ground. They both moan and groan, wallowing in their pain.

“And you see that? That is how you incapacitate people. Losers,” I grunt, spitting on the ground after lowering my mask.

I had no intention of murdering people on the hospital grounds. Meh, whatever.

I peek over my shoulder when approaching footsteps catch my attention. The cocking of a gun makes me all giddy inside. I turn around and face my death in the face—or would-be death.

The man with the newspaper.

But I don’t have time for him.

“I should have known it was you,” he says calmly, eyeing me up and down. “You almost had us, huh?”

I snort. “Almost?”

I throw the scalpel right into his open eyeball without hesitation. He shoots! He scores! He drops the gun, crying out when the scalpel finds its mark. I need to get out of here before they call the cops. I can already see the security personnel making their way over here from inside the building.

“Ah! You fucking fuck.” Well, so much for the eerie calm he tried to portray.

“I’ve been called worse,” I chuckle. “Give Gabriel a message for me,” I hum, stepping back. “Let him know we’ll be back for war. This shit isn’t fucking over.”

With that, I turn on my heels and sprint with the keys in my hand. I click the unlock button several times, finding the car. Quickly, I get in, start the engine, and then I’m off. Once I’m on the road out of Briar Cove, I pull over and plug my phone in.

I have no idea right now where anyone is, but I’ll find them once my tracking app loads. Because what my brothers don’t know is, I put trackers in their ass cheeks, too. Journey wasn’t the only one to get special treatment.

I grin when my phone starts up again and reveals where Jericho took off to.

“Don’t worry, Jer. I’m right behind you. I’ll meet you in East Point Bluff.” I should have known he’d run straight for his cousin’s house for help. We don’t rely on her often—because hello, government agents—but she’s always had our backs. And if he’s scurrying there and leaving everything behind.

Our world must be truly fucked. I get confirmation when I find Shepp and Journey’s dots sitting beside each other.

“In the middle of the ocean?” I ask myself, putting the car into drive. A car I’m most definitely going to dump before I make it to East Point.

Whatever. I’ll find everyone, even if I leave a trail of bodies behind.