Twisted in Chaos (Destructive Devastation #2)

Chapter 22

Excitement roars through my veins the closer we get to our home base. Briar Cove. The land I grew up in. My dick practically rises in my jeans the moment we drive through the city limits and all the familiar sights come into view.

"What a lovely day to be home," I sing, much to the dismay of Jericho, who grips the steering wheel of our shitty stolen vehicle.

Sure, we could have taken the car Olivia was offering, but it was too shiny and too new. It would have drawn every eye in our direction, and that's the last thing we need at a time like this. Be discreet and all that good stuff.

"And you've sent word?" Jericho questions, huffing under his breath.

"Oh, yes," I sing-song with a grin.

"And he's willing to meet?"

I side-eye Jericho. "You should know that he never did like what Gabriel did with me."

And that's a fact. My father, the priest, felt heavily manipulated when he signed over his rights to Gabriel, making him my new guardian. He thought Gabe would take away the blood lust, not intensify it. I'm not upset that my blood lust is sated, and I've learned how to hone it in on the bad guys. Being a young kid and having that darkness in me nagging to kill and feel the blood on my fingertips was a wild ride. My dad never could have come to terms with that or helped me with it. Unless he put me in an asylum or something. But nah, that wouldn't have worked.

The one thing I know is that my father has always been on my side. He may help the family out and give them a spot for initiation, but they also donate a shit ton of money to his church, giving him protection and the means to live. Hopefully, that doesn't sway him.

"To the church, driver!" I shout, pointing the way toward the church in the distance.

The dark sky conceals us when we pull into the parking lot and park.

"His doing? Or the family's?" Jericho mutters, staring at the darkened lights that once lit the space, illuminating everyone from danger. Not that anyone would touch this church with a ten-foot pole. Everyone and their mother knows it's protected by the Viotto's—even my dad.

"If it were the family's, they would have lit us up with bullets already." I grin, jumping out of the car without a second thought. I'm goddamn Arrow Amour. No one can take me down.

"Arrow! For fuck's sake," Jericho hisses, coming beside me. His eyes dart around, looking for the mysterious gunmen hiding in the shadows, ready to take us out. “You’re going to get yourself killed one of these days.”

Doesn’t he know I’m fucking invisible? Amateur.

"Eh. They can't take us down, Daddy Jer." I grin, take a few steps away from him, and enter the back of the church.

"I don't know how you've kept yourself alive all these years," he growls, gently shutting the open door behind us. "I swear to God."

"In the house of the Lord, that's not a nice thing to do, Daddy Jer," I quip, taking in my old home.

I grew up here. Well, kind of. My father hid me here after my junky mom said bye. Not only was he never supposed to have sex, but he wasn't supposed to have a kid or raise him, either. Throw in my murdery ways, and he was truly fucked over. Maybe I am the reflection of his sins. His words. Not mine.

I have many fond memories of hiding from other church members or sitting in the back of the pews on Sunday morning as my father led the congregation in songs, prayers, and smiles—something he rarely offered me. Our relationship has strengthened since I left his nest and lived with Gabriel. He sees the humanity living inside me now, begging to take care of the people who were like my mother. The downtrodden and drug addicted, hoping to emerge from the patterns that brought them there. They come to me to get healthy, to leave their abusive husbands or wives or relatives, and I give them a brand new start.

Me.

The boy who aches to make people bleed.

But I also have a heart. A heart not many people find in me. But Jericho did. Shepp did. And now, my Kitten does. They see the true man beneath the layers of jokes and blood lust.

Even if they want to murder me sometimes. For, let’s say—taking out Journey’s birth control without her knowing and then hanging said birth control in my lair. Meh, she’ll get over it, right? The other two seemed to move on without spilling the beans. I just had to open my big mouth at the initiation ball.

Oh, well. If it gets her pregnant, then so be it. I want her stuck with us, carrying all our spawns and shit… I should not be getting a boner in church. What would God think of me, then?

"This way," I mutter, grabbing his arm and taking him down a set of stairs toward another basement area. It houses the Sunday school classrooms, rec room, basketball court, and my father's offices. A place he often hides, sleeps, and hell—even lives here sometimes.

Jericho and I make it through the darkened space I memorized as a kid. I don't dare turn on any lights or make a noise as we make our way down the hall toward my father's office, where one singular light shines. I've been here many times. And in many instances, it's after I've tortured someone for information and am covered in blood. I come to ask my father about my actions or simply talk to him about my ideas. He listens with an open heart and no judgment. It’s something he adopted after he handed me to Gabriel.

Before we reach my father's office, I pull Jericho into a room next to it—another office for his secretary. I gently knock on the wall five times, and then I wait. My ears perk up when the same knock greets my ears, giving me the all-clear.

"It means he's alone," I say without moving a muscle. "But I'm listening just in case." We stick our ears against the wall, listening for any other movement, but hear none.

I grab Jericho and pull him into my father's well-lit office. I grin at him.

"Daddy-O," I say, moving forward and wrapping him in my arms.

"Arrow," he whispers into my ear, clinging harder than expected. “You're here. Alive." He pulls back, gently gripping my cheek in his palm. “You're both alive."

"Is there something we should know?" Jericho asks, raising a brow with suspicion.

"A lot of rumors floating in the air, consisting of your deaths. Although I know your father doesn't believe that."

"Have you been in contact with him?" I ask, tilting my head. "Word on the street is this is all hanging by an itty bitty thread."

"I've gotten a few texts here and there confirming initiation dates. He has something on the schedule two Sundays from now in the basement."

"Are you in the know of what it is?" Jericho asks, folding his hands in front of him.

"A meeting is all the text said when he reached out to let me know it would be needed. He never really elaborates unless it's an initiation for the family.”

My face twists. "On a Sunday? The most holy days of the family?" I question, tapping my chin several times.

"It is strange," Jericho chimes in. "My father only schedules these types of things in the evenings on weekdays. And if it's in the basement, it's only used for initiations or annihilation."

"Has someone been bad?" I ask, lighting up at the thought of taking a traitor down. Then, I realize. I might be considered a traitor in the family's eyes. I went against Gabriel's orders and fell out of my coma. But, pfft. Why would I stay down when everyone I considered mine was in danger? Nah, fuck that. I needed to be up and alert so I could take down everyone who put me there, including Gabriel himself.

"I am unaware of what is happening on Sunday during their meeting. But he has been here a few times to discuss situations with the ones closest to him with a woman at his side."

Jericho blanches. Only slightly, though. You rarely see Jericho react.

"Seems my mother has inserted herself into business matters," he says, tapping his fingers on his worn jeans several times.

"Your mother?" my dad asks, tilting his head. " I thought..."

"She was. But now, she's suddenly back from her captivity and has freed herself." He shakes his head in confusion. Something only I can read on his face, when my dad's lips pop open.

"We need to know everything that's been happening here since Gabe's headquarters took a tumble," I say, garnering my father's attention.

My father swallows hard, nodding his head. "There seems to be upset from outside forces. Shadow attacked the night headquarters fell. And no one has seen you two, Shepp, or the girl you had with you since then. There's been whispers of your demise." Tears fill his eyes when he looks at me. "I thought for sure something had happened to you, son. In my heart, though. I felt your soul, and God brought me back from the brink of it all. When I finally got your text, it brought me to my knees. You're alive."

His words pierce through the thick armor I usually don't feel. Seeing the tears in his eyes and the joy shining through—that he's excited I'm still alive—makes my heart flip-flop in my chest.

"Well, I'm alive and kicking," I say with a grin, spreading my arms out.

"With all due respect, Priest. We've come for information. It has come to my attention that being in Briar Cove is a mistake. My father was after all of us." Jericho gets straight down to business. Mr. Business all the time, fucker.

"Yes." My dad clears his throat. "Of course. Why don't you boys have a seat?"

"And we're safe here?" Jericho asks, reluctantly standing behind the chair with a sour expression.

Fuck. It was like pulling teeth to get him here in the first place. He kept insisting Daddy Dearest would turn us over to the family. But I told him he wouldn't. I told Daddy Jer we'd be safe and sound inside the walls of this church. My dad may be in the pockets of the family, but he's loyal to me, too. He keeps my humanitarian adventures under his belt and is safe from the men who want to take it over and credit themselves for it. But it's mine. Fuckers.

"You're safe behind the walls of this church and with me. No one will get to you here. Not on my watch," he says with a sharp nod, gesturing for us to sit again.

Jericho side-eyes me when I sit down with ease. I've been in this chair—this office—so many times before. My father hid me behind these walls, away from the public's prying eyes. I was simply an orphan my father took in. Or that's what he told people so he could keep me here. They never noticed the similarities because there weren't any. Our eyes are the same shade of blue. But everything else must come from my mother.

Reluctantly, Jericho sits beside me. Every muscle in his body remains rigid. We need Journey back to make him loosen up a bit. The fucker is too wound tight and needs a good lay to bring him back to earth. Ugh. I miss my Kitten so damn bad I can barely contain the rage living inside me. Granted, that fight helped to curb my blood lust in the other direction. But I'm aching for a fight again. Half of me hopes the family is lurking in the shadows so I can steal their guns and send them straight to Hell. Just to help me feel better.

I snap back into the rigid conversation, focusing on my father's tightening face.

"Yes. They boarded up your club. Any business your father has his fingers in has been closed momentarily." He folds his hands on the desk and sighs. “They're all changing owners and in the process of reopening.”

Jericho's eyes darken. "And how did you hear about the changing of ownership?"

My dad swallows hard. "You think I'll let the mafia in the basement of my church without secretly listening to what is going on in this city? After what your father promised me would happen with Arrow and breaking those promises the moment I signed my rights over.” He shakes his head, disgust rolling through him. “I occupy this building. I am the church. Therefore, your business is my business."

I always wondered what my father thought about my upbringing. He tried his best with me. But I was a little shit. My activities included killing bunnies and looking at their insides. Oh, I also brought them home for Dad to look at. I was so damn proud. Then, I started fighting in school—which was fun, by the way. It caught Jericho's attention, at least. I think my impulsiveness was the straw that broke my father’s back. I couldn’t control myself. If I wanted it. I took it.

"So, every meeting that's happened in the basement?" Jericho questions, sitting back in the chair.

"I was there to witness them all." No fear rests in my father's eyes. "When they were held here, anyway. The more I've gotten to know your father, the more paranoid he's become. Over the years, he's gone from the basement to his tower for meetings with others. If you were in my position. What would you do?"

"I'd listen in on every grizzly detail," I say with a grin, rubbing my hands together.

"As would I," Jericho agrees. "So, you have information on the new owners?"

"No. I don't have names. I only have that. No names were said in the meetings, but the men of the family are absolutely pissed that it's happening. Those clubs seem to be a major revenue for the entire Viotto family."

"They are," Jericho says with a nod.

It's an understatement, really. The family has many businesses—legit and not so legit. Those clubs are fronts to wash and distribute our laundered money under the radar. We've had our hands in gun runs and gambling ventures. In fact, we have casinos in many regions of California that put money in our pockets, giving us the leeway to do whatever the fuck we want.

"Whoever is doing it wants to take everything from us," I say with a frown. "Who the fuck would want to do that? And why now?"

I have one guess, but I don't know if Jericho will like it. It's too much of a coincidence that his mom would waltz back into his life after being gone for so long.

"I have some ideas," Jericho says cryptically, meaning we'll discuss them later because he still doesn't trust my dad.

"Oh, me, too," I say with a grin. And I can't wait to say it. Maybe that fucker will punch me in the nose again. God. A rush goes through my damn veins. I want to feel alive and fucking bleed.

I need Journey back.

"You say our club has been boarded up for good?" Jericho asks, tilting his head.

"Yes."

Ah, that makes sense. That club no longer belongs to Gabriel. It's Jericho's. I wonder if they boarded it up because it didn't belong to them, but they probably still had the keys. We never knew the true intentions of Gabriel signing over Rave to Jericho all willy-nilly. It was Gabe's one day and then Jericho's the next, without rhyme or reason. I swore he was going to fuck Jericho over the second he could.

Something works in Jericho's mind when he nods, standing from the chair. "I'm hoping that this relationship can be mutually beneficial. I scratch your back, and you scratch mine."

My dad stands, extending his hand to Jericho and gently shaking it. "I will relay as much information as possible before I'm found out. I hope that you boys stay safe while visiting Briar Cove." His eyes look into each of ours with a warning ringing in them.

"Lay low, got it," I say, pulling my dad in for a bear hug. "Thanks, Dad," I murmur, squeezing him tight until he's wheezing in my arms.

Maybe after this entire fiasco ends, my dad and I can get back on track. We've slightly fallen apart since he gave me up and can't be seen with me in public. It's dumb. I wish he could acknowledge me in front of everyone, but it's not possible to keep his position at the church if he does.

"We should go," Jericho says, eyeing the time.

"Fine," I sigh, pulling back from my father and standing beside Jericho. "You'll keep safe, too?"

"Don't worry about me. I have all the protection I need," he says, rubbing the cross dangling around his neck.

Sometimes, I wonder how a man as honorable as my father got himself entangled with my mom.

"Why don't I have a mom?" I ask, looking up at my dad.

He grins and hands me a plate from the sink. I wipe the towel across it, removing the water.

"Your mom was a godly woman, Arrow. But she was very sad." He's a liar. She wasn't sad. He doesn't know. I've overheard him mumbling to himself about this Darla person leaving me behind for drugs. "So sad that she knew she couldn't care for you, and she gave you to me."

I nod a few times, drying the plate and setting it on the counter. "Can you tell me the story?" My heart aches when he looks down at me with the brightest grin I've ever seen. My dad has always been so loving toward me in private. But he said my existence could take away his role as the priest. He said he felt he owed it to the people of Briar Cove because their souls also needed him.

Even though I'm four, I understand what he's saying. Even though he gets mad at me sometimes, that's okay. I still love my dad.

"Once upon a time, there was a woman who loved her son so much, but she knew she couldn't love him the way he needed. So, she gave him to the next best person she could think of. The man she had fallen in love with. A priest. A man she knew could take their son into the godly light and give him the world she had dreamed of." He smiles down at me, ruffling my hair. "I will love you no matter what, Arrow. You're the sunshine in my life now. I will gladly share anything with you." Leaning down, my father squats before me, taking my face in his palms. "So, I want to ask you something."

"What is it?" I ask, furrowing my brows.

"What goes through your mind when you’re climbing that big tree?" I inspect his calming face and grin. “You terrified me today, Arrow. I thought you were going to fall.”

My brows furrow when I think about the tree right outside on the playground. It’s huge. Also, it’s my favorite thing to climb. The thrill that runs through me when I’m so high up I can see above the church is unmatched. Daddy doesn’t like it, though. He says I’ll fall out like I’ve done before and broke my arm. I don’t remember that either.

“When I hung from the tall branch?” It was amazing. My feet dangled in the wind. If I would have let go, I could have flown. Daddy said I’d go splat on the ground, but I don’t think so.

“Yes. I felt scared today, Arrow. You have to remember that you could die or get hurt. I know in your brain it doesn’t feel like it.” He’s holding back on something, but I can’t tell what.

I purse my lips, irrational thoughts going through my mind. He hates what I do. I can tell that from the softening of his eyes.

"There's a man who wants to help you." And that's when I recognize the sadness in my father's voice for the first time. It's not disappointment or anger. He's sad that I make him sad. That I do these things that go against him.

"A man?" I breathe. 'What do you mean? You don't want me?"

"No. It's not that. I want you. With all my heart, Arrow. You know you're so important to me. But if you give this man a chance, he could help you with those urges..."

"Urges?" I question. "You mean when I take risks you don’t like?” Dad says I’m too impulsive and don't seem to grasp the consequences of what’s happening. Maybe he’s right.

"Yes," he says with glistening eyes. "He can help you become something great and help you pinpoint those urges into something productive. Would you want to meet him?" He swallows hard, hope glistening in the crest of his eyes.

I furrow my brows, looking at the dishes that still need to be done.

"You'd be free, Arrow. I wouldn't have to hide you at the back of the church anymore." Right. I'm his biggest, most special secret. He loves me so much that he has to keep me hidden from the big bosses of the church. Even being so young, I understand that. Kind of. I don't want to be hidden anymore. I don't want him to lose his job or...

"Okay." I nod a few times. "I'll meet him."

"We'll be in touch," Jericho says stiffly, knocking me out of my head and motioning for me to follow his lead.

"Until next time, Dad." I salute him with a smirk before following Jericho out into the darkened hallway of the church with the memory on my mind.