Page 53

J eremy stumbles between Dayton and me, his arms bound tightly behind his back with zip ties, his face bloodied and swollen from the fight with Silas. His eyes dart around as if trying to look for a way out.

You aren’t getting out of this, you bastard.

Sable walks just ahead of us, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, her black dress torn at the hem, her heels in her hands. Silas trails behind, one arm cradling his side where he has a broken rib or two.

We go back up the stairs of the basement and into the den, shoving Jeremy forward. He lands hard on the hardwood floor, groaning as he writhes in pain on the ground.

“Stay. Like a fucking dog.”

Jeremy doesn’t respond. He just glares up at me through a mask of blood, his chest heaving.

Silas lowers himself into the large leather chair with a grimace, his face pale and sweat beading on his brow. Sable is by his side in an instant. “Silas, this isn’t just a bruise. You’ve got a broken rib, maybe more.”

Silas waves her off, his jaw clenched tight. “I’m fine,” he mutters, though his wince betrays him. “I’ve had worse.”

“You need to rest. Let me get some ice at least.”

Dayton paces the room, his hands raking through his hair. “We should’ve killed him,” he mutters, shooting a venomous glance at Jeremy. “Right there, in the catacombs. Ended it.”

“No,” I say firmly, pulling my phone from my pocket. “This isn’t our kill to make.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

I don’t answer immediately. My fingers hover over the screen as I dial a number on my phone. The line rings three times before the deep, gravelly voice of the Syndicate leader answers. I don’t know his name, and I think that’s how he likes it.

“You have him?”

“We do,” I reply. “Jeremy Lancaster, tied up and bleeding on our floor.”

“Good. You’ve done your part. We’ll handle the rest.”

“Bring Kai, or else.”

The line goes dead.

“Kai almost died because of him. He doesn’t deserve to breathe,” Dayton bites out.

Jeremy chuckles hoarsely, the sound muffled by blood and defeat. “I mean,” he says, voice barely above a rasp, “you still can. But wouldn’t that make you just like me?”

I don’t hesitate. I kick him in the ribs, sending him rolling onto his back with a strangled wheeze.

“Shut the fuck up.”

Jeremy groans, curling in on himself. Sable’s gaze snaps to me.

“He’s my brother.” The words fall out of her mouth.

Dayton stops in his tracks. His mouth parts slightly, like he’s about to speak, but nothing comes out.

“We share the same father,” Sable continues, her voice barely above a whisper. “My mother found out when his mom was pregnant. She made sure Jeremy’s father thought he was his real son. But the Syndicate…” She swallows, blinking rapidly. “They found out. And they told him.”

She wraps her arms around herself like she’s trying to hold herself together. “Jeremy’s dad killed my father. And then he killed himself.”

No one speaks.

No one fucking breathes.

“So… Hi! Welcome to the family, boys!” Jeremy says.

I grab the discarded handkerchief from the table and shove it into his mouth, muffling whatever vile words he was about to spew. He grunts and jerks his head away, but I press harder, making sure the fabric stays lodged between his teeth.

“To answer your question, Day, before I was rudely interrupted… Every man deserves his own revenge. Especially when it’s for someone who hurt their family. He killed Victoria—the Syndicate leader’s daughter. We don’t need to intervene. Our revenge is sending him off to his death. I saw the prison—the place where they keep the undesirables of the elite. It’s not a pretty place where he’s going. The Syndicate will make sure his death is painful enough,” I continue. “They’ll do worse to him than we ever could.”

Sable nods, then turns her focus back on Silas, attempting to ice his abdomen.

“Stay still. You’ll feel better.”

“It’s cold!”

“Quit being a big fucking baby.”

Silas grunts but doesn’t protest this time. His head falls back against the chair, his eyes fluttering shut as he focuses on his breathing.

The phone rings again, and I pick it up. “Our men are already en route. They’ll collect Jeremy and take him back for questioning and sentencing.”

“And what about us?” I ask, though I already know the answer.

“You’ve proven useful,” the leader replies. “For now, your debt is settled. But remember, you’re still assets to the Syndicate. Don’t forget who you serve. Malachi Reynolds will be returned to you.”

The line goes dead.

“They’re coming.”

Dayton finally sits, his elbows resting on his knees, as he buries his face in his hands. “Good,” he mutters. “It’s what he deserves.”

Sable finishes wrapping Silas’s ribs and pulls a blanket over him, her movements gentle. Then, she straightens and looks at Jeremy.

Moments later, headlights sweep across the windows, and then there’s a knock at the door. Dayton moves to answer it, his hand resting on the bat he left by the wall.

Two men in black suits step inside, their faces impassive, their movements efficient as they grab Jeremy and haul him to his feet. Jeremy doesn’t resist. He doesn’t beg or plead. He just stares straight ahead, his face a blank mask.

The men drag Jeremy out, his feet scraping against the floor. The door closes behind them, and just like that, it’s over.

Sable turns back to Silas, who has drifted into a restless sleep. Dayton stares at the floor, his face hard and unreadable. I lean against the wall, the weight of everything settling in my chest.

We’ve won, but it doesn’t feel like a victory.

Not when we’re still tangled in the Syndicate’s web.

But for now, we’ve survived. And that has to be enough.

I slide down the wall, sitting on the floor with my knees pulled up, my head resting against the wood paneling. My hands are still trembling, the adrenalinedraining from my system, leaving behind exhaustion and the ache of guilt.

“We should’ve gotten more out of him. Answers about my father’s death.”

“Sometimes the truth doesn’t bring peace, it just sharpens the blade of vengeance. Hold on to the stories your mom told you. They’ll keep you from losing yourself. Trust me.

She accepts my answer and sits beside Silas, her hands smoothing over his hair, her fingers trembling as she brushes a damp strand from his forehead. Silas stirs slightly, his eyes fluttering open for a brief moment before closing again.

“You’re staying the night in that chair,” she murmurs. “Don’t even think about arguing.”

Silas doesn’t respond, too drained to protest. He just shifts slightly, wincing as the movement pulls at his ribs. “You’re a bossy nurse.”

“You have a broken rib. You need to rest.” She stands and moves to the first aid kit on the table, rummaging through it for painkillers.

“I keep thinking about Kai,” Dayton says quietly. “What if we hadn’t made it in time? What if…”

“We did make it. He’s alive.”

“But for how long?” Dayton snaps, his eyes blazing as he looks at me. “You heard the Syndicate. They own us now. We’re just… pieces on their chessboard.”

“They’ve always owned us. The only difference now is that we see the board we’re playing on—and the game we’re part of.”

Sable returns to Silas, waking him up and handing him a glass of water and two pills. “Take these,” she says. “They’ll help.”

Silas takes the pills without argument, swallowing them with a grimace. Sable stays by his side, her hand resting lightly on his arm, her gaze flicking between all of us.

“We’re not done,” she says quietly. “Not by a long shot.”

I nod, my eyes fixed on the floor. She’s right. Tonight was just one battle. The war is far from over. We still don’t know much about the Syndicate, and I don’t think we are meant to. The only ones who know enough about the Syndicate are those who need to know. And sadly, we aren’t very high on the totem pole.

After a while, Dayton stands. “I’m getting some air,” he mutters, heading for the door.

Sable watches him go, her lips pressed into a thin line. She doesn’t stop him, but the worry in her eyes is clear.

I finally lift my head, my gaze meeting Sable’s. Her eyes are tired.

“We’ll get through this,” I say quietly. “One way or another.”

She nods, her grip on Silas’s arm tightening slightly. “We have to.”

Silas shifts again, his eyes opening slightly. “We will,” he murmurs, his voice a low rasp. “We always do.”

Sable leans down, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “Rest,” she whispers. “You need it.” Silas’ eyes close again, his breathing evening out as he drifts off. Sable stays by his side, her hand never leaving his arm. My phone vibrates on the table beside me. I pick it up, my eyes narrowing as I see the message.

Unknown Number

Kai will be delivered to the Manor tomorrow morning. He will arrive with a detailed care plan, including a nurse who will visit twice a day to change bandages and monitor his vitals. We will also have her assess Silas during these visits.

I’ve informed Dean Adams that you and your group will require the first two weeks of the semester off to recover. Your absence has been approved without question.

I will be in touch with further instructions if your services are required.

Thank you for playing, kid.

The screen fades to black as the message ends, leaving me staring at my reflection in the dark glass. My jaw tightens, a mix of rage and bitter resignation bubbling to the surface.

“Everything okay?” Sable’s soft voice pulls me back to the present. She’s still seated next to Silas, her hand resting protectively on his arm.

I glance at her, then back to the phone. “The Syndicate—Kai, will be back tomorrow. They’re sending a nurse to check on him, and Silas.”

“And?”

“They’ve arranged for us to take the first two weeks of the semester off. No questions asked.” I pause. “And they’ll be in touch. If they need us.”

“Of course they will,” Sable says.

“They’re never letting us go,” Silas mumbles.

“Not as long as we’re useful to them,” I agree.

Silas smirks faintly. “Guess we’re part of the family now.”

“Some fucking family,” Sable murmurs, brushing a hand through Silas’ hair.

I look back at the phone. The final words of the message burned into my mind.

Unknown Number

Thank you for playing, kid.

The End.