In The Midst Of Chaos: An MC Romance

by C. Lymari

  “I cut off his brakes. I was just waiting for the day he took a too-sharp turn or one wrong move. He didn’t take good care of Blair. When she died, it was like he didn’t care. Life went on for him, and it stopped for me. So I avenged her. She was the woman I loved.”

  Rage burned through me as I heard him talk about my father’s murder. This man took everything from me—the image of my perfect family. The memory I had of my mother. And he was confessing to my father’s murder.

  I took a step back, and I felt Nash there, his hand coming to my hips, steadying me. Silently letting me know he was there for me. Supporting me and giving me strength. I reached to his waist, knowing he always carried his gun. He was more outlaw than he was a businessman.

  He was a one-percenter but not the kind Axton would have preferred. They raised him with leather and a gun, and he was in the in-between line, living precariously.

  I found the cold metal and gripped it. I knew how to handle guns since I was ten. My father taught me the art of fire play. You couldn’t fear machinery; you had to know how to operate well.

  I pulled it out, and Nate and Nash yelled.

  I pointed the gun at the guy.

  He smiled. “My only regret is that I didn’t get to kill you.”

  I took a deep breath, then pulled the trigger. Nash and I were close enough that blood splatter landed on our faces.

  Leon took most of the blow. He whipped his face around, glaring at us.

  “Fuck,” Nash whispered, intending to take the gun away from me.

  “Wait!” Nate said. He’d taken out a black bandana from his back pocket and carefully took the gun from my hand and wrapped it.

  “Taking a life is enough; she shouldn’t have to do it twice. I’ll make sure Gunner gets this.”

  Leon nodded. “I’ll be her witness.”

  Nash pulled me away just as my brain caught up to what they were talking about. I had taken the vow. I wasn’t even eighteen, and I had killed for the club.

  When we were by the bike, Nash turned me around and shook me.

  “What the hell were you thinking?” he yelled at me. “You didn’t know what was waiting for you on the other side of the door; I could have lost you!”

  I blinked, still in too much shock at what had happened.

  “I feel so cold.”

  Nash ran a hand over his face and cursed. He removed his hoodie and put it over me.

  “Get her out of here,” Leon said from somewhere on the other side. Nash glared at him but nodded. He then sat me on the back of his bike, and we took off.

  He parked his bike at his side entrance.

  I followed numbly behind him.

  “I still feel cold,” I mumbled.

  “I’ll run us a shower,” he said. He took a step, but I held his arm, stopping him.

  “I need you to make me feel warm.”

  “I will, baby. Let me turn on the water.”

  I went up on my tiptoes. “I need you to make me feel because right now I can’t feel a thing,” I said as I kissed him. His arms wrapped around my waist, hoisting me up by my ass, and my legs wrapped around him.

  I devoured him, needing to feel more than the empty fucking hole that was currently in my chest. I needed his warmth more than I needed to feel the cold.

  Nash pulled down my pants, and I took off his shirt. He then threw me on the bed as I removed the rest of my clothes, and he took the rest of his off.

  “Please,” I begged as he stood there looking down at me and maybe wondering if I was in the right state of mind to get fucked.

  “Shit, Fin,” he said as he came to the bed. I opened my legs, and I wrapped them around him.

  “Make me feel,” I whimpered.

  Nash tore through my virginity in one brutal thrust. My head rolled back with a scream, and my nails dug into his back.

  “Don’t stop,” I begged. He kept going. My nails dug into every surface they landed on to steady me from his thrusts.

  His rhythm turned from violent into soothing. Still hard and fast, but the violent waves that were overtaking me turned into pleasure.

  “You feel so fucking good,” he groaned against my neck.

  My hands roamed his back, no longer scratching but soothing the burn I had left behind. I tipped my head back as the intensity of my orgasm built.

  “Love you,” I said as I closed my eyes and came.

  Nash held on to my hips as he fucked me harder until he came. He finished inside me, cursing as he didn’t pull out. I felt cum coat my legs.

  I was spent. Sated. Feeling like I was handling things. The revelations that happened today would be bearable in the morning because I had Nash by my side.

  Nash pulled back, and I immediately felt the cold of his absence.

  He went to the room and came back with a warm rag. He cleaned me up, and I watched him through sleepy eyes, a smile playing on my lips while he looked pensive. He then went to his drawer and lit a cigarette.

  “You got what you wanted, babe,” he said, and I opened my eyes, staring at him in shock. “You should go.”

  I sat up, bringing the sheets to my chest. “W-what?”

  Nash took another drag, and when he released the smoke, he spoke again. “You wanted to get fucked, and now you have, so leave.”

  “But…” I started to demand an explanation at the same time, trying to hold back tears. “You said you—lo—”

  “And now I want you out of my fucking sight.” He seethed with so much hate I knew he meant it. “Nothing is going to change the fact that you will marry Huxley. Nothing. So, do us a favor and stop begging. You got my dick, don’t be more pathetic. I know your father raised you better than that.”

  I grabbed the bedsheets and wrapped them against myself. “I hate you,” I spat at him, forcing the tears to stay at bay.

  I walked out of his room, holding on to the little bit of pride I had left. Walking the dark manor, I made it up to my room, where I grabbed my things in the dark. I didn’t even know for which loss of innocence I was crying for. Giving my virginity to Nashton or killing a man.

  I looked at my room, and I took it to memory. The feelings a foolish girl had. I took all of my father’s training and threw it out the window for one boy, one cruel boy. The next time I came back, he was going to be sorry he ever betrayed me.

  Before leaving, I called for Dion. He had been my family’s butler for years but followed me here when I lost everyone. “You will be my eyes and ears. You will tell me about everything going on in this manor of horrors.”

  He nodded, knowing I wouldn’t be swayed. I was stubborn, like my father. Then I walked into Axton’s study.

  He was a workaholic, much like my father had been. He sat behind his regal desk—a king among mortals. Nash looked so much like him; it physically hurt to see him.

  He didn’t look surprised to see me.

  “I want my vow to be validated.”

  “Then I want your contract to stay as it is, “he replied instantly.

  I slammed the door to his study, and I didn’t look back as I took the steps down one at a time, taking me far away from this place. Horror, dreams, and nightmares. All so similar and destructive. Attainable and replaceable.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  My eyes were focused on the door as I used all my energy to jump using my tiptoes in order to make the chair fall with enough force, and break. The sound was heavy when it happened. My back took the shock of the impact, but the chair’s leg was unsnapped, and I could work with that.

  No remorse. It was our life or theirs. There couldn’t be a moment of hesitation. That’s how fatal errors often happened. I think that’s why I killed that man the day I took my vow. It was him or me, and my father always taught me that it was them who had to be killed when it was a life-or-death situation. Never me, never us, and a Death Disciple always took back their revenge tenfold.

  I rolled to the side, getting on my belly so the back of the chair could protect me in case I didn�
�t get these ropes off fast enough. I got on my knees as I moved my feet, trying to get the rope off. When it was off, I got up and noticed that my little fall wasn’t loud enough to get their attention, but this next part would be.

  I took a deep breath before I ran backward so the chair could ram against the wall. When it broke, I felt one of the cracks stab my back.

  I hissed, and I heard steps and shouts in the house—no time to think about this. I wiggled my hands, having enough room to slide the rope off. I was just free when two men barged in.

  I didn’t know them.

  They looked Hispanic, which was more than enough to let me know that maybe the cartel was involved.

  I grabbed the rope and waited by the wall since at least it protected me from behind. That just left three other forms of attack.

  We never practiced like this, Daddy, I thought to myself. I took my sight off them for a second so I could look at Duncan. He was pissed off. I was moving, trying to no avail to remove the ropes from his arms.

  It wasn’t helping at all.

  “What do you want with us?” I asked.

  The guy smiled at me crudely, looking me from my head down to my toes, giving me an idea of what he wanted from me. My father was right—men did think they owned us, which was ironic now that I thought about it. The reason why he never wanted me to be a queen because he treated women like pawns, and he didn’t want me to be like Eleonor or my mother. He loved me enough to want more from me. It’s why he prepared me because he knew living this life, I would one day land in this situation.

  It would break his heart if something happened to me and in his memory, and for my sake, I couldn’t allow that to happen.

  My body was achy from the crash, and my arms burned from the rope. All of that couldn’t matter right now. I whipped the rope at him, trying to hit his face. He was faster than me and with more energy. He grabbed hold of the rope and pulled it, taking me with him. I used his pull to my advantage, letting him do the hard work, and as soon I was close enough, I kicked him with all the energy I could muster.

  He fell backward, his body hitting the ground hard. I took the rope and wrapped it against my hands as I came down and straddled him, then choked him with it. He moved to try to push me off him. I gritted my teeth, ignoring the pain that was shooting through me. My body bucked with this need to survive.

  “Fin,” Duncan gritted out as he watched me. “He’s dead.”

  I looked down at the man through my tears. I didn’t know if I was crying because of the pain or because I had taken another life, or maybe it was because I was finally feeling my heartbreak.

  His mouth hung open, and his lifeless eyes stared back at me. I got off him, my chest heaving as if I had run a marathon. I used my legs to turn him over, and I searched his back pocket for a gun, but he had a hunting knife. I was glad he hadn’t used it, or else I might have been dead.

  No one ever took women seriously enough. That’s why they made sure Duncan had been the incapacitated one and left me tied. My father told me that what we women lacked in strength, we made up with intelligence and deceit.

  “You have the advantage to use your claws, to fight as dirty as you want, and these men won’t think twice. The mere fact that you don’t have a dick will make them underestimate you. Always use it to your advantage.

  Grabbing the knife, I used it to cut the ropes that bound Duncan together. I kept watching the door, waiting to see if someone else would come for us.

  Once Duncan was free, I helped him sit up. I took the knife and gave it to him.

  “I’m torn between killing you myself or fucking you because that was fucking stupid.” He glared at me. “But it was hot.”

  I smiled as he used his sleeve to wipe my tears.

  “I love you,” I told him as I pressed the knife to his hand. “Anyone comes here, you kill them.”

  “Finnegan,” he started, but I stopped him.

  “We are both fucked if we stay here.”

  He knew I had a point. I leaned in to kiss his cheek, but the little fucker moved his head and kissed me on the lips.

  “Don’t die, or Nash will castrate me,” he joked.

  I pulled away without looking back at him and silently made my way to the stairs. I took them up one by one to avoid making them creak. Relief spread through me when I saw that the door had been left open.

  I waited at the top of the stairs, trying to calm myself.

  All I could think of was that intense feeling I had when the anxiety hit like I wanted to pee. There would be no Nash coming to step in and save me from the rabid dogs.

  I could hear the television on. It sounded like a game was playing, and I wondered how many more people were in the house.

  Today was not the day I chose to die.

  Taking one deep breath, I walked through the door. My main goal was to get Duncan out of this alive, even if it meant I had to protect him with my own life.

  Stepping across the threshold, I could see this house was a front. Nothing personal covered the walls, just enough things to make it seem like someone lived here and not arouse suspicion. A man was watching the television. His back was to me, and he didn’t even turn around since he was too engrossed in the game.

  I took a step back, trying to see what was on the other side. It was the kitchen, but I couldn’t see a fucking knife. My heart sped up as I saw the door, and I contemplated running out and calling for help, but I couldn’t abandon Duncan.

  Besides, trying to open it would alert whoever was at the front, and I still didn’t know if people guarded the house.

  Just as I was going to turn around, I screamed as I saw a shadow behind me.

  “A donde vas,” he spoke to me in Spanish.

  I had no idea what he was telling me; my Spanish had always been rusty. The linguistic one of us was Huxley. I started thrashing around, but I had already spent most of my energy.

  He grabbed my head and slammed it against the table. Pain exploded, going from my head to my body.

  I lay on the floor, and he kicked me for good measure. He then ran downstairs. I was barely conscious when he dragged Duncan up and threw him almost on top of me. The man held onto his abdomen. Crimson red covered his palm. And I smiled before I lost consciousness. Duncan had stabbed him.

  Nash

  We were seated at the table in the clubhouse. Every single member in the main chapter was in here, as well as my father. It was rare when he made an appearance, but there he was, sitting across from Gunner, like the king he was.

  Everyone was talking over one another; it was complete chaos in the clubhouse. I was close to leaving this place and looking for Finley on my own. I didn’t know where, but it beat this helpless feeling.

  “Order,” my father yelled.

  Naturally, whenever this happened, the brothers looked from my father to Gunner, not knowing who was in charge. They were under Gunner, and sometimes since my father was more behind the scenes, power clashed, but he was still at the head.

  “My son got taken today, and I want him found alive and for whoever did this to fucking die.” He looked at Gunner and then at Leon.

  “Finley was with my brother,” I said to take away the attention from my father. He needed to calm down before he stepped in the trap he’d set out years ago.

  “I want my wife back.” Huxley got up and put his hands on the edge of the table, his knuckles going white from the grip he had on it.

  I was about to scream at him that she wasn’t his anything but decided that we would deal with that privately and not when we had a full house.

  How could he call Finley his when he never took care of her? I was the one sending money into her account because what her father gave her wasn’t enough for her to survive on. Her college tuition, her textbooks, every single thing she purchased since she left Crull Manor came out of my fucking pocket.

  Unlike my brother, I took care of what was mine, and Finley fucking Primrose always had and would always be mine.
r />   “Did anything else happen with the cartel that we don’t know about?” I asked. I couldn’t think of anyone else.

  “No,” Gunner said. “You were there, boy. Don’t you think I would have told you if anything else had happened?”

  “I sure hope so,” my father spat.

  An angry Gunner stood up. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean? You’ve been throwing little digs here and there over the years, and I’ve about had it with them.”

  Nate and I looked at each other, and I knew that if it came down between our fathers, that would be the end of our friendships, and I hated that.

  Since no one else was doing anything about this, I did.

  “Just shut the fuck up! Every second you spend arguing, it’s a second longer that Finley and Duncan are still held captive. I get it, Dad, they took your son, but we are not going to do anything here arguing with our hands on our dicks.”

  “Just so you all know, I need two hands for that,” Chops said, and I glared at him, but I knew he did it to ease the tension.

  My dad and Gunner told the boys to ride and ask around—the town either feared us or respected us—and to get the cops on our payroll on the hunt too. When everyone else left, I pulled my father and Gunner aside.

  “Can you two knock it off? For the sake of all of us, keep this shit between you two until Finley and Duncan are back.”

  However, Nate wasn’t satisfied. “What the hell did Prez do to you?”

  “Drop it,” Gunner said.

  My father looked at Gunner and then at Nate. He didn’t count Nate as his legitimate son because he wasn’t blood, but Gunner thought otherwise.

  Once upon a time, he had been in love with Nate’s mother, but she wanted a better life. When that better life came crashing down, she came running back to the safety of the club.

  My father glared at Nate and then looked at me. “Tell me, when you were playing detective, did it come up that Gunner was fucking Blair?”

  For fuck’s sake, this was not the information I needed right now.