Chapter 3 Talon
THREE
TALON
By blood, I’m an only child. My parents decided to stop at perfection after they had me, and I am satisfied with that.
However, along the way, I somehow gained two brothers—Dredyn and Jasper.
We met almost forcefully at first, during an event where they shoved all the kids together in a room like a battle royale.
It was Dredyn who got so mad he punched some asshole kid in the face, and Jasper and I had to back him up on the actual brawl that ensued.
The only person to stop us in the room was Evangeline—Jasper’s older sister. A teenager at that point, who was just walking by when she heard the commotion and stormed in and broke all of us up.
My eleven-year-old self thought the obvious when you see a sixteen-year-old girl.
She was hot AF.
And after she left with Jasper and his busted lip, I knew I had to befriend him.
So, I asked my parents about his family and eventually weaseled my way into Jasper’s life.
Not because of him.
But because of his hot sister.
Now, despite my high self-esteem and huge ego, she wanted nothing to do with a child five years younger than her. So I went with the second best.
Jasper Thorn.
Soon after he and I became friends, Dredyn joined us, and that was it. We went to boarding school near Ashen Grove University, where most Omega Chi alumni and legacies go.
Until one night, Evangeline called us and told us she was in trouble. Without a thought, we dropped everything and rushed to her. Her three younger brothers tried to save her.
And failed.
Now that we know for sure that it was him, I’ve spent the past month researching his entire life. Making phone calls, trying to learn everything about him, down to the fucking soap he uses to wash his ass.
Which is why it’s midnight in the war room—also known as the Omega Chi library room. I’m only drawn out of my thoughts by the pile of empty energy drink cans to my right on the table being slowly moved out of the way before Dredyn leans against the table, a small USB drive in his hand.
“You sure it’s clean?” Dredyn asks.
“Checked it twice,” I say, barely giving him a look.
He flips the USB between his thumb and forefinger.
“This was hidden where, again?” Dredyn asks.
“Ledger three,” I say. “Buried under the Syndicate account logs for the Marion estate. Whoever hid it was sloppy—wanted it accessible to a certain eye. Either that, or they wanted dumb luck to do the finding.” My mouth tastes of metal.
Dredyn gives a low, humorless laugh. “Someone wanted it found. Someone wanted us to know.”
“Or they were hiding it and got sloppy,” Jasper signs. “Either way... we have it.”
“And we have to wait for the right buyer for it.”
That’s what we decided to do. We found enough dirt to muddy up Chase—proof that he killed Evangeline and planned to do so. But instead of taking care of it the normal OCK way, we decided that it would be best to take a play out of the Psi Theta Omega handbook.
Ruin his reputation.
That’s how we get Mara back. Or, at least, away from him. We still need to deal with her father, but trying to get rid of the president-elect is a lot harder than it looks.
Dredyn has gone through every brute force scenario in his head.
“I’m still fucking pissed you didn’t tell me until after we got back from election night. I could have just—”
I cut him off before he reiterates the part I know will tear everyone apart. “We told you after the election,” I say. “We didn’t tell you then because we knew what you’d do.”
Dredyn looks over at Jasper. “That’s your sister, man! How could you—”
“We needed to confirm what it was first, and we needed to get through that night without you doing something that’d get you locked up, or worse,” Jasper signs.
Dredyn’s fury pivots to me. “You think I’d be reckless about this?” he hisses.
“I think,” I say evenly, “that if you’d seen it before we went to the party, Chase’s brains would already be splattered on Main Street, and the Syndicate would have us all hanging from nooses by sunrise.”
“That bastard was right under our noses,” he spits. “All this time, the Syndicate protected him, covered up Evangeline’s murder, lied to our faces—” His voice breaks, and he trails off. “We could have ended him a dozen times by now if we’d known.”
Jasper’s eyes glint with cold hatred. “We know now, and he’s not untouchable.”
I nod. The moment we saw that footage, I knew—this is our green light. The truth held hostage is finally in our hands. It’s ammunition, a bargaining chip, a loaded gun with Chase’s name on the bullet. It’s power, if we use it right.
Dredyn isn’t thinking about bargaining, though. His mind is already consumed by raw vengeance. He shoves the chair away; it topples over with a crash. “We’re not waiting another damn minute,” he growls. “He dies. Tonight. I don’t care what strings are in the way.”
He snatches the nearest object—a crystal tumbler from the bar cart—and hurls it violently against the bookshelf. It explodes in a spray of glass shards.
Jasper’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t flinch. I force myself to remain still, even as my heart kicks up.
Dredyn’s fury needs an outlet or he’ll combust.
“He’s at Harrington Manor, probably. If we rush in like this—”
“I’ll gut him like a pig,” Dredyn snarls. “Guarded or not, I’ll take his head and dump his corpse in those fucking catacombs.”
His rage is blinding. Part of me wants to let him go, to step aside and watch him tear Chase apart, but my mind is already running through consequences.
Chase dead means James Harrington, his father, coming for our throats.
Clark Black, too, once he realizes we butchered the future golden boy he intends to shackle his daughter to.
They’d bury us under so much dirt we’d never crawl out.
Jasper looks at me, eyebrows raised in a question. I give a minute shake of my head. Not yet.
“We’ll make him pay, Dre, but we do it right. We expose him and everyone who helped cover it up. Burn the entire web, not just one spider.”
Dredyn rounds on me, slamming his palms on the table. “I don’t care about the web! That piece of filth took our family!”
Evangeline was family to him too, as much as Jasper’s sister could be to any of us. “They killed her and laughed while we mourned like fools. I’m done waiting, Talon.”
“I want him dead too. But listen to Talon. If we lose our heads now, we’ll lose everything.”
“This was your sister—your blood. And you want to play it safe?”
“Enough.” Jasper stands up. “We will kill Chase. But if we do it their way, angry and stupid, they’ll win. They’ll bury the truth again. They’ll lock Mara in a tower and throw away the key. They’ll destroy us.”
At Mara’s name, Dredyn blinks, some of the fight draining from his eyes. “So, what then? We just sit here? Let Chase breathe a second longer than he deserves?”
Before I can elaborate, the shrill ringtone of a phone cuts through the air. We all freeze. The sound is coming from the table—Dredyn’s phone, face-up next to the fallen chess king. The screen illuminates, casting an eerie glow on the name: James Steele.
Dredyn’s face contorts in disgust. He snatches up the phone, and for a moment, I think he might smash it too. But he answers, pressing it to his ear. “Yes.” His voice is flat, blank—the mask he wears whenever dealing with his father.
Jasper and I exchange hard glances. None of us need to guess why James is calling at midnight. The Syndicate’s puppet master tugs the string, and his son dances. Not tonight. Not for much longer, I swear to myself.
I can faintly make out James’s voice on the line—a low murmur, authoritative and icy.
Dredyn’s jaw ticks. “Understood,” he grinds out.
“Yes, sir... I said I understand.” The next pause stretches longer, and Dredyn’s eyes flick to us.
Whatever James’s saying now isn’t good. My guess, it’s a warning to stay out of the Black family’s affairs.
“No, sir,” Dredyn bites out after a moment. “Nothing else is on our agenda. We’re focused.” He practically spits the last word.
Another pause, and then, “We’ll handle it,” and he ends the call before tossing the phone onto the table with a clatter.
“Let me guess,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Daddy has a favor to ask?”
Dredyn’s laugh is humorless. “He’s sending us on an errand. Apparently, one of the Syndicate’s ‘valued clients’ is late on a payment. We’re to collect and send a message. Immediately.”
Jasper’s shoulders tense. “He’s keeping us busy,” he signs, anger simmering beneath the composed surface.
“Exactly.” I feel sick with frustration. Our hands were literally on the trigger, and James yanked us away with one phone call. “He knows we’d be going for Harrington right about now, so he’s giving us busywork.”
“He thinks this will keep me in line; he’s dead wrong. We’ll do this job, but after that—”
“After that, we break the leash,” I finish for him.
The alley behind Orion’s Club reeks of piss and desperation.
I lean against our idling SUV, cold night air biting at my cheeks, and listen to the wet thud of fists meeting flesh echoing off the brick walls.
A strangled cry rings out, followed by Dredyn’s snarl.
“Where’s the rest, you lying sack of—” Another meaty impact silences whatever pathetic answer our target tries to give.
I close my eyes, letting the violent soundtrack wash over me. The primal rhythm of punishment thrums through my veins, not so different from the pulse I felt when Mara was beneath me, her body yielding to the edge of pleasure. The way she writhed under me, breathless and furious and needing more.
A minute later, I hear a final muffled groan and the scuff of boots on concrete. Dredyn and Jasper emerge from behind the dumpster, leaving the target crumpled and whimpering in the shadows. Job done.
We stride back to the SUV without fanfare, the three of us moving as one through the darkness. Dredyn’s breathing hard, knuckles split and wet with someone else’s blood. Jasper is eerily composed, wiping a fleck of crimson from his sleeve.
Inside the car, none of us speak at first. Dredyn finally lets out a bitter snort, flexing his bloodied hand. “Another night, another mess cleaned up. Daddy will be so proud.”
“Thrilled,” I drawl, dripping sarcasm.
“Are we done being his dogs?”
I catch his gaze in the rearview mirror. “For now”
Because being “for now” is what Omega Chi is built on. We’re the dogs the Syndicate walks on a leash; the boys they let loose when they need someone to break a knee or a jaw without asking questions that might get blood on their tailor-made cuffs.
We collect debts, send messages, and smile. Tonight was a message. Tomorrow might be something uglier. That doesn’t make it less necessary.
Jasper watches me in the mirror, his face half-hidden in shadow. He signs slowly, quietly, “We’re not dogs forever.” The motion is barely a breath, but it lands heavier than any fist.
That’s the cruel math of our world: obey, or disappear.
It’s a calculus that leaves a hollow in your chest where rage and shame take turns living.
We can be their dogs, or we can be the teeth they fear. The difference is strategy.
The difference is patience.