In The Midst Of Chaos: An MC Romance

by C. Lymari

  In The Midst Of Chaos

  C. Lymari

  In The Midst Of Chaos Copyright © 2021 by C. Lymari. All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

  www.clymaribooks.com

  Editors: Sandra, One Love Editing

  Proofreader: Zainab, Heart Full Of Reads Editing

  Contents

  Also by C. Lymari

  Foreword

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Epilogue

  Thank You

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by C. Lymari

  It’s Not Home Without You Hoco #1 -Available Now

  (Second Chance/ Forbidden)

  The Way Back Home Hoco #2- Available Now

  (Friends-to-Lovers)

  You Were Always Home Hoco#3- Available Now

  (Enemies-to-Lovers/ Second Chances)

  HOCO#4- Coming Soon!

  (Quincy’s & Jessa’s story.)

  For Three Seconds- Available now

  (Forbidden/ Sports Romance)

  Falcon’s Prey- Available Now

  (A Dark Romance)

  SEKTEN SERIES

  Savage Kingdom- Available Now

  Cruel Crown- Available

  (Extremely dark & full of triggers)

  To Becca because without her, I wouldn’t have published any more books. Thank you for telling me to sit the fuck down and just write. Love you 3000

  Show me your kings, and I will show you the queens that willed them- Nikita Gill

  Chaos. It was pure chaos.

  I wasn’t just talking about the way people were shouting or how the men looked terrified. I was talking about the feelings inside of me.

  The way my heart was beating hard without stopping. The way it started to take off like the rumble of motorcycles in synch and then halted a beat as my body fought the urge to shut down.

  “Wa-a-s-s he b-b-ad, Daddy?” I asked my father as I looked up at him. Perhaps I should have been scared, but my daddy would never let anyone hurt me. He held onto my hand and smiled sadly at me.

  “Evil, good, right, or wrong, it’s all about perception. To our family, he was bad, Finley, but to his, he was their world.”

  Suddenly, I felt sick.

  “W-w-why?” I asked, and he knew I asked why they did what they did.

  “Because this is who we are, Finnie. This is what we do, and I want you to go into this world with eyes wide open.”

  I looked at the clearing in front of me and then my eyes found his—Nashton’s—and he didn’t look terrified like I was. When our eyes met, he smiled at me. That smile brought a piece of warmth to me, and it was enough to stop my body and my mind from going cold. That smile was enough to distract me from the ugliness that was happening around me.

  Nash’s father, Axton, walked to where my father stood, holding my hand. He had a scowl on his handsome face.

  “I can’t believe you brought her here.”

  “Nash is here too,” my daddy replied dismissively.

  “He’s fifteen. Finley is just a child.”

  My father looked at Nash and the grin he was sporting. Then he looked down at me, and my lip trembled under my father’s heavy gaze. He squeezed my hand gently, letting me know he was sorry for what I had just witnessed.

  “My daughter is a woman in a world where men think they own them. I am not teaching her how to be a princess. I am teaching my daughter how to be a king.”

  Chapter One

  Seven Years Later

  The cool air hit my cheeks as the limousine turned into the manor’s long driveway. Straightening up, I was glad I had put the partition up so the driver couldn’t see the discomfort on my face. The trees behind the manor were in varying stages of a fire. From red, orange, and yellows—they looked beautiful. Everything here was filled with beauty at first. That’s the thing about beauty though—the longer you stared at it, the more you were bound to find imperfections.

  As I shifted in my seat, the cold leather rubbed against my skin. My skirt was probably a little too short for the type of meeting I was having, but I had a point to prove. My light brown hair was now lilac, and my attitude only got worse the older I got. I loved my father and my mother, but they didn’t treat me with kid gloves. They knew I wasn’t made out of glass, so they let me fall, and hard, so I would remember that pain and turn it into power.

  I didn’t have my parents for long, but the time I did have with them, I cherished. Especially my father, since I lost my mother when I was eleven. He’d taught me so many life lessons in the thirteen short years he was in my life. Well almost thirteen he passed a few months before my birthday. He raised a girl he didn't get to see turn into a teen, he didn't get to see the woman he made.

  When the car halted, I felt my cold dead heart taking one simple beat. I used to feel a lot. Then I felt so much I just burned out. It’s like my body said, “fuck this shit, we are going psycho,” and then nothing.

  “Welcome home, Miss Primrose,” Dion, my old butler and confidant, said, and I almost laughed. Crull Manor stopped being home the moment I got kicked out of it.

  “I smiled at the old man who had taken care of these grounds since the day we arrived. Before I took a step, I took in the spacious house.”

  Crull Manor, a place of dreams and nightmares.

  “Wish me luck, Dion,” I mumbled.

  “You don’t need luck, Miss. The boys have been restless awaiting your arrival.”

  Yeah, that was what I was afraid of. I was going to have three pissed-off Crull boys on my hands, and once upon a time, I would have been sick with dread at the thought of disappointing them—but they never felt the same way toward me. They didn’t know why I left in the middle of the night—well, one of them did. He didn’t care that he tore my heart out while it was still beating.

  Squaring my shoulders in case one of those assholes was watching through the many windows, I made my way up the stairs—one foot in front of the other, with fear and excitement coating my skin.

  The house was just like I remembered it. Not much had changed in the last three years I was gone.

  It was too refined and classy for filth like us. I was done pretending like we were civilized; the more I thought about it, we had never been. We didn’t live by civilian law.

  “Miss Primrose,” Anya, one of the maids, greeted me. “They’re waiting for you in Mr. Crull’s office.”

  “Thanks,” I said without looking at her. It seemed fitting that the last place I’d been before I left was the office, and it was the first place I would go to. Full fucking circle.

  Holding onto the rail, I descended t
he stairs, my heart starting to pound with every step. Shades of grays and browns followed me around, reminding me why I had left. Betrayal lingered in the walls, and we all pretended not to see it.

  I grew up in this place a princess amongst thieves, purity beside sins, my future laid out before me.

  When I made it to the office door, I took a deep breath, inhaling it, letting it give me strength to face the people who, although weren’t my blood, were some of the only family I had.

  The smell of nicotine, tobacco, and THC hit my nostrils, and strangely it smelled warm; it smelled of home. I didn’t dare look around the room as I made my way in. Now that I was here and felt eyes on me, I was rethinking my outfit, a black leather miniskirt that barely covered my ass and a long-sleeve crop top. Nothing said, “look at me, I’ve grown up,” like walking into a will reading dressed like a whore.

  Sitting behind his large oak desk was my guardian.

  I walked up to the side of the desk, then kneeled at his side and grabbed his hand. “Uncle,” I whispered before I kissed the top of his hand. A sign of respect. I stood still as he put his hand behind my neck and kissed the top of my head.

  When my father passed away, Axton took me in. Through the years, he disagreed with my father on the way he raised me, except my father didn’t treat me any different than Axton did his oldest. My father didn’t see me as something that needed to be protected because I was a girl. My father taught me that fear was just a matter of perception. That emotions ran high, and to just feel them before we ever acted on them, because acting on feelings often led to mistakes, and damn if I didn’t learn that lesson the hard way.

  “Welcome home, Finley.” The hoarse way he said my name made me feel guilty for the first time since leaving. It wasn’t Axton’s fault. If I blamed someone, anyone, it would be his son. In all my years, I’ve never seen Axton Crull broken. He and my father had created an empire, and we were their legacy. It was surprising, too, because of what they taught us, but it made him human and a little more admirable.

  Too bad that legacy came at a price.

  Bad news always happened in the middle of the night, and it was no different than when I got a text from an unknown number letting me know Eleanor Crull had died. I didn’t think I still had it in me, but I broke—part regret, but most of it anger. I should have been home. I should have told Eleanor how much she meant to me face-to-face other than by video call and text.

  When I got up and turned around, my eyes met with the youngest Crull brother, who was smirking at me. Duncan was the palest of the boys and the one with the blackest hair. He wasn’t short and chubby-cheeked anymore. He looked taller, with razor-sharp features that gave him a sadistic look. From the side of his neck, I could make out tattooed wings. He licked his red lips and winked at me.

  I had to stop myself from smiling at him because he had to have known why I left. Instead, I just glared at him as I took a seat.

  “Great, Finley is back. We can fucking start now.” The hoarse voice startled me. It was deep but smooth, and when angry, it got hoarse. My gaze slowly lifted, expecting to find mismatched eyes. Instead, I was met with dark shades covering the most amazing eyes I had ever seen. He was leaning on the couch, a blunt between his fingers, as he stared back at me. Nashton was the oldest of the Crull brothers. He was still tall but was now more muscular. Tattoos covered every inch of his body except his face.

  I averted my eyes and sat in the chair next to Duncan, leaving one between Nash and myself. My skin shivered because I knew he was staring, and the pathetic part of me wondered if he liked what he saw.

  “You look good, Finnegan.”

  I didn’t turn around as I slapped Dun’s face. He always thought Finley was a boy’s name, so he fixed it to annoy me.

  “Can we go on with this? Some of us have work to do and don’t get a fucking check each month just for existing.” Nash’s words were directed at me.

  My mother passed away in a terrible freak accident—wrong time, wrong place kind of thing. As for my father, he was shot the summer after he took me to the clearing. A part of me wondered if it had been karma for showing me what he did. Not that I blamed him. My father just wanted me to take off my rose-colored glasses. We had been on the verge of war back then, and his death had us all on edge, except we never found evidence on who carried out the hit.

  I was one messed-up preteen when I came to live at Crull Manor. Add in being raised alongside three rowdy boys—we drove Mrs. Crull crazy.

  I bit my lip, stopping any remark that would show my hand. My weakness. They were mourning…I was grieving. So I gave a dismissive look to Nash and held my tongue. I knew firsthand that words cut deeper than any knife and wedged themselves deeper than any bullet.

  The last ones I heard before I’d left this house still haunted the shit out of me.

  No matter how ruthless we were all taught to be, we still respected our parents. We showed respect to those who earned it, and those who didn’t, well, they deserved what came their way. Which reminded me, my twentieth birthday was coming up.

  Before Axton could speak, the door opened again. I stopped breathing, knowing who it was. One of the reasons I agreed to leave this place in the first place.

  “Well, well, well…. if it isn’t my fucking fiancée.”

  I felt eyes boring into me from all directions.

  At the door was the middle brother, tall with a square jaw, chocolate eyes, and black hair. Huxley Crull stood before me looking like an all-American douche bag. He had no tattoos—that I could see anyway—and he looked like a male model for Tommy Hilfiger when the rest of us were all Harley Davidson.

  He came to where I was sitting. He put his hands on either side of my head, leaning close so I could smell the tangy smell from his Trident gum. “Did you fuck other men while you were away, Fin?”

  Before I could say more, Axton slammed his hand on the desk. “That’s enough. Have some respect, for fuck’s sake.”

  I glared at the boy I was promised to since my tenth birthday. Crossing my arms, I looked at Ax to continue, so I could hear what Eleanor wanted from me, and I could leave this fucking manor. If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t have stepped a foot back in this place. They wanted me gone? Then I would be fucking gone.

  We sat in silence as Axton read his late wife’s will. She left each of her boys some of the properties. The island Ax had bought her, she wanted to sell it and donate the money to charity. I chuckled because that was like El. She didn’t want Ax to fuck anyone else in their “special” spot.

  “As for Finley,” Axton continued, and I sat up a little straighter. “I leave her my baby. Well, she already gets to marry one of my babies, but I leave her my convertible.”

  My jaw dropped.

  “Bullshit,” Duncan uttered. He loved that car as much as I did.

  It was a 1965 Ford Mustang cherry-red convertible. It was a freaking classic in mint condition. The car was the American dream.

  “Now that I’m gone, it’s your turn to keep my boys in check.”

  I heard a snicker from beside me. My head turned to meet Nash’s gaze. Now that the glasses were off, I felt my stomach dip. Nashton had the most beautiful eyes. His right eye was a light blue, while his left eye was dark brown. Boy, could I get lost in his empty abyss, but I steeled myself to look away.

  Once Axton was done reading, I stood up, fixing my skirt. “Since that’s all, I guess I better go now.”

  “You just got here.” Huxley’s voice went up an octave.

  Then I felt his presence next to me. His proximity should feel warm, but instead, I felt cold, making me shiver.

  “You. Are. Staying.” Nash’s authoritative voice made my knees buckle, and if I was still a stupid seventeen-year-old, I might have dropped at his feet.

  I turned around to glare at him. My mouth parted when I realized just how close he was. He was close enough that I could see the vein in his neck thrumming. Close enough that if I were to tilt my head, our mouths
would touch.

  Damn, he was a handsome son of a bitch, wasn’t he? Then I shook my head because his mother had just died, and I shouldn’t be thinking that way. I shouldn’t be thinking that anyway because he wanted me gone in the first place.

  “I’m leaving, and there’s nothing anyone can do to stop it.”

  Nashton smirked at me, his mouth parting a little, and the pink of his tongue peeked through, licking his lower lip.

  “Your accounts were frozen the moment you stepped foot inside the house,” Nash mocked next to me. His breath fanned the shell of my ear, causing me to break out in goose bumps, and I hated that.

  I hated that the same weakness I had felt for him when I was young was still there. Time didn’t break the attraction I felt for him. Time didn’t make me crave his brother instead of him. Time didn’t want me to marry Huxley any more than it had three years ago. Time didn’t heal the wound I carried with me since the night I left. Time had stopped for me, and it was about to catch up.

  “How. Dare. You!”

  Nash took a drag of his blunt, then covered me in a cloud of smoke.

  “How dare I? Bitch, how dare you!” he growled. He looked down at me with so much hate in his gaze, and I wondered why he was mad at me when the one who should be mad was me.

  “Shut the fuck up, Nash,” Huxley said, jumping up to come to my defense. He stood behind me, holding my waist with one hand. The moment he did that, I felt Nash’s glare zero in where Hux had his fingers gripping into my hip bone.