Page 65 of In the Midst of Chaos

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.

“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.

Nate ran a hand through his face. “Was there anyone that bitch wasn’t fucking?”

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