Chapter 20 Jude
JUDE
“Is she with you?” Kane’s tired voice floats from the other end of the phone.
My gaze flits to Violet, who’s sleeping on the bed, her fingers twitching, and her body—that’s been sluggish for months—has been shifting, curling, like she does in her sleep.
Three months, to be precise.
It’s been almost three months since Violet was put in a fucking coma.
A false coma.
A drug-induced coma caused by none other than that motherfucker Julian.
The only reason I found out is because I got her out of the hospital.
Kidnapped her—if we’re being technical.
Over the past couple of months, as I was slashing and fucking up most of the targets on my list and ending a few players’ hockey careers to blow off steam, I started to notice patterns.
Violet doesn’t show the same signs as Mario. She has more ‘involuntary’ nervous system reflexes, and that struck me as weird despite the doctors’ platitudes.
Once, I said, “You don’t possibly think you can escape me, do you?” And to my surprise, her eyelids twitched, and so did her fingers.
Mario has never shown any of those signs, but the doctors keep saying that different people have different ways of reacting when in a coma.
I should’ve known better than to trust Julian’s doctors and establishments. Everything in the medical field is under his or Regis’s thumb.
Including Violet’s coma.
The final piece of information that confirmed my suspicion was Violet’s disappearance from the hospital two days ago.
I remember the fucking tightness in my chest when I walked in like I usually do early in the morning—because Dahlia spends most nights by her side—and I didn’t see her lying in bed.
There was no pale face or frail body or shell of a person. Only emptiness—and Mario sleeping peacefully.
The nurses mentioned a transfer to one of our headquarters, and I knew Julian must’ve been behind it. There’s no way a meticulous, well-planned transfer would happen without his interference or approval.
Turns out that Julian and Grant—Kane’s father—were using Violet’s kidnapping to twist Dahlia’s arm. Maybe hurt Kane through her. Maybe delete her and her annoying snooping habits from town.
I didn’t give a fuck what the reason was. All I cared about was having Violet back exactly where she belonged—under my thumb.
So I barged into Julian’s office and threatened to crush his skull if he didn’t tell me where she was.
He merely ignored me, so Kane spoke to him, trying his boring diplomatic shit that also failed, because Julian doesn’t change his mind when it’s set on something.
I searched all our safe houses, holding out hope that he’d be keeping her in one of them. Naturally, he’s not that stupid, so I couldn’t find a trace of her.
Today, however, Lucia managed to locate her in one of the unmapped hospitals.
Well, it’s an illegal experimentation center window-dressed as a clinic on a small island right off the coast. I had no goddamn clue this shit existed in the Callahan empire, but then again, Regis has never considered me his actual heir, not when golden-boy Julian exists.
Seems Julian’s tyranny and degeneracy run a lot deeper than I thought, because that goddamn place looked like an asylum. It was full of patients, many of whom I recognized as Vencor members who betrayed the organization and, therefore, were dead.
But apparently not, because Julian is using them as his lab rats.
Despite the high security, I managed to raid it with the help of Lucia—and my Callahan last name that made the guards hesitate to hurt me.
Point is, I got Violet out, kidnapping one of the doctors as well so he could look after her.
Under some torture, he mentioned a coma drug experimentation and swore he’d recently started working on the project and didn’t know much.
He said Violet’s vitals were pretty good throughout the period they were monitoring her and that if she didn’t take her assigned daily dose of the drug, she’d start to wake up soon.
It’s been almost twenty-four hours, and she still hasn’t.
Maybe Julian’s drugs messed with her indefinitely.
No—she’s moving, her eyes fluttering and her body restless. She’s no longer in a coma.
She has never been in a coma.
Why did Julian do that to her? If he’d wanted to hurt her, a simple injection or food poisoning would’ve done the trick. Or was she aware of what was happening? She wouldn’t…do this willingly, right?
I have so many questions, but the most important thing is that she’s here and safe.
“Yeah,” I say to answer Kane’s question.
A long sigh escapes him. “Is she waking up?”
“Slowly, as the doctor keeps saying.”
“Good. Dahlia will want to see her.”
“Fine.” I tighten my grip around the phone. “And, Kane?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry about your father.”
“I told you I’d kill him one day for all he did to me.” Another sigh, this one sounds too loaded. “That day came sooner than I expected. Hurting Dahlia was the final nail in the coffin.”
“Is she okay?”
I couldn’t care less about Dahlia, and I truly dislike her meddling ways ever since Violet’s coma. Not only has she wormed her way into our lives, but she’s also kind of got Kane wrapped around her little finger.
The past few months, I’ve had to watch with pure disdain as my friend, who I honestly thought lacked any form of illogical feelings, as he calls them, became too addicted and obsessed with that girl.
And that’s bad news, because he’s slipping and making mistakes he shouldn’t.
But while I don’t care about Dahlia, Violet does. She’s her only family, and I’d rather she doesn’t wake up to find her sister mutilated.
“She’s fine. Just some cuts,” Kane says. “I have to supervise getting rid of Grant’s body. Check on Pres. I don’t like his sharp manic episodes lately. Talk soon.”
I hang up, stroll to Violet’s side, and sit on the edge of the bed.
I don’t touch her.
Ever since the time I tried to peel her eyelids open, I haven’t laid a hand on her. There hasn’t been a reason to.
She hasn’t been agitated in her sleep and hasn’t needed my hand on her back to calm her down.
Not when she’s been so…still.
However, she’s making slight movements now, no longer playing dead in a hospital bed.
I sit on the edge of the mattress and look at her soft face. “Wake up, Violet. We have a lot of shit to talk about.”
She stirs but doesn’t open her eyes.
And I wonder what she’s dreaming about. Is it her mother again? Maybe Dahlia?
Would she ever dream of me?
Not that I want her to, especially since most of her dreams are nightmares.
My phone vibrates in my hand, showing the group chat, now named ‘The Vipers’ Den.’
Pres
Guess what I’ve done?
Pres
I’m glad you asked. Voilà!
Attached is a picture of a burning motorcycle.
Kane
JFC, what is that?
Pres
Marcus Osborn’s ride.
Kane
The fuck, Pres? I told you to figure out a way to keep him out of Vencor.
Pres
Eh, that’s what I’m doing?
Kane
No, that’s not what you’re doing. You’re deliberately provoking him. With all the shit you keep pulling, he might accept the Osborns’ offer to officially join the family. We don’t want that.
Pres
Nah, he would never join the family that slapped the bastard child tag on him and cut him and his mom off.
Kane
You’re underestimating him. Stop messing with the prick just because he humiliated you in the last game, Pres.
Pres
He did NOT humiliate me. I was having an off day that had NOTHING to do with him. Besides, he’s the one who fucked with me first. I’m petty, PETTY. Like the greatest petty any petty can ever pettily meet.
Kane
How the hell did he fuck with you?
Pres
Not important. He just did, and I burned his bike. @Jude doesn’t this shit look hot as hell?
Me
Kane is right. Stop poking the bear, Pres.
Pres
You’re supposed to say: Hell yeah, you’re so fucking awesome, Pres! I feel privileged to have you in my life. Copy and paste, please.
Kane
You know Marcus will get his revenge for this, right? You burned his only mode of transportation.
Pres
That’s the whole fucking point, man.
Instead of these childish tantrums, how about you conserve that energy to train harder so you can handle him on the ice next time we play against the Wolves?
Kane
What Jude said. He made a fool out of you the other time, Pres. It was embarrassing to watch.
Pres
Friendship revoked. You bitches can go die.
Preston Armstrong removed Kane Davenport and Jude Callahan from the chat.
I shake my head. He’ll add us back in when he has some other shenanigans to report on.
Kane is right about Preston’s episodes, but I have no fucking clue how to deal with the motherfucker, especially when his brain decides to burn shit at three in the fucking morning.
I’m even considering talking to his dad, because things are getting out of control fast. But then again, I know all about the love-hate relationship they share, so I’m not sure if that would help rein in Pres or make him spiral further out of control—
Bang!
A sharp, metallic crash comes from somewhere outside the room.
Instinct takes over as I pull a gun from my belt. The safety’s off, so my body moves before my thoughts can catch up.
I stride toward the door, gripping the weapon firmly, ready to fire if necessary—
My chest seizes.
A vicious, suffocating constriction wraps around my lungs, like invisible hands digging in, squeezing the air from me. My vision blurs at the edges, dark tendrils creeping in like ink spreading through water.
What the fuck—
I stumble, my knees buckling before I can even reach the door. My hand spasms, the gun slipping from my grip, clattering uselessly to the rug.
Gas.
Fucking paralyzing gas.
I’ve been trained for this—conditioned for it by my father to prepare me for Vencor. Poison, gas, and pain training are a must for all Founders’ children, and I was no exception.
But this is different.
It’s too strong.
I can’t even twitch my fingers.
Because whoever did this knew the dosage it would take to bring me to my fucking knees.
And there’s only one person who would keep that in mind, because he oversaw my training right alongside Regis.
Julian.
I don’t have to look up to know it’s him.
I hear the measured footsteps, the deliberate pace, and the effortless control.
“It’s not good manners to steal from me, little bro.” His smooth voice laced with amusement lands on my muddled brain like polished steel.
He steps into view, his dark-brown eyes gleaming under the sterile light, holding a mask to his nose and mouth. His suit is pristine, not a wrinkle in sight, his tie adjusted just enough to be casual but never careless.
Meanwhile, I’m on my fucking knees, my lungs burning, my muscles locking up, the weight of invisible chains dragging me down.
“Julian Callahan always collects his debts,” he says, looming over me. “You knew that and still had the audacity to raid my establishment.”
I glare at him, trying to clench my fist, but my muscles won’t move.
“Don’t give me that look. It’s nothing personal. Just business.” He strolls to Violet as a few men, also wearing masks, barge into the room with a stretcher. “I’ll admit that you have more insiders in the Callahan compound than I gave you credit for. Consider me impressed.”
I want to lunge and punch him and keep Violet where she belongs—under my thumb—but I can’t move a muscle.
“Unfortunately, I’m not done with this one, brother dearest. I have a deal to complete.” He checks the monitors and then sighs. “She’s waking up before we’re done. You truly are a nuisance, Jude. Your punch first, think later habits are a disgrace.”
He motions at his aides, and they move her onto the stretcher. I groan, foaming at the mouth to fucking destroy Julian as he strolls to stand in front of me again. “I suggest you give up on her.”
I snarl.
“Listen, I mean her no harm. If anything, I’m impressed by all the data we’ve gathered these past few months.
Perfect test subject, if you ask me. Besides…
” He tilts his head to the side. “The poor girl chose to undergo this, knowing there was a fifty percent chance she’d die, just so I’d help her escape you once she wakes up. Get a hint, little bro.”
My eyes widen.
No.
That’s not…
Violet wouldn’t agree to this knowing she’d leave Dahlia behind. She just wouldn’t—
“I’ll keep my word and send her and her sister out of here.
Somewhere you’ll never find her. Besides, you also know someone in Vencor wants her dead, right?
The reason behind her attack and Mario’s coma is someone closer than you think.
Yes, my men saved her from them and had to abandon her down at the bottom of the bridge so you’d find her, but I truly wasn’t the one who hurt her.
There was a third party. You still can’t find them and probably never will, so let her escape alive.
” His eyes darken, a harsh emotion shining through. “While you can.”
How…?
Lucia wouldn’t have told him we’ve been investigating and coming up empty about the hit man’s connection to the Armstrongs. I even asked Preston to look around, but he didn’t find anything except that we should blame his dad because he’s an asshole.
The Armstrong family tree is huge, but only a few of them live in the mansion.
Preston’s grandfather is frail and an honorary chairman.
His father, Lawrence, is a milder version of mine but an autocrat through and through.
His grandmother is vicious, but I’m biased because she always calls Preston names that correlate to his mental illnesses, and his stepmother is a socialite who only cares about image, power, and money.
His sister is pretty young and irrelevant.
That leaves two people. His uncle, Atlas—Julian’s best friend and, therefore, a secretive, cunning son of a bitch—and Preston’s late mother, who was absolutely crazy, to say the least, and did a lot of questionable things to remain relevant. But she died a long time ago.
That only leaves Atlas—who has no reason whatsoever to kill Violet.
Zilch.
Like Julian, he’s more interested in an internal war to kick Preston’s dad off the throne and take all the power he can get.
Atlas, Julian, Serena—Marcus’s half-sister—and Kane’s uncle Kayden have always been power-hungry assholes who’d kill and sabotage just so they can remain on top.
But there’s no reason for Atlas to kill Violet. Her death wouldn’t benefit him in the least.
Also, if he’d wanted to kill her, Julian would definitely not have intervened.
“It doesn’t matter how much you search,” my brother says. “You’ll still come up empty.”
Fuck you, I say with my eyes.
“Take my advice, let Violet go and focus on your role within the family.” He pats my cheek. “Don’t disappoint me or taint Susie’s hard work, yes?”
And then they carry Violet out.
And I can only watch.