Page 10 of All The Darkest Truths (Second Sons Duet #2)

OSCAR

The buzz of my phone drags me from a dreamless sleep, the screen illuminating the darkness of my room like an unwelcome intruder. Ricky.

I check the time on my phone. Six o’clock in the afternoon. We’ve got four hours until the meet up to prep. Groaning, I swing my legs over the side of the bed. My mouth tastes like death, and my head is still foggy.

I send off a quick text to confirm I got the message, then head to the bathroom. The cold water I splash on my face does little to invigorate me, but the shower that follows helps. I dress quickly in a t-shirt and sweats before heading out of my room.

Talon stands at the stove, his back to me as he expertly flips what looks like a grilled cheese sandwich in the pan. His bun is slightly disheveled, a few loose strands falling around his face as he concentrates on not burning our dinner.

“Sleeping Beauty awakens,” he says without turning around. “I was beginning to think you'd miss dinner.”

I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and take a long swig before responding. “Got a text from Ricky. Meeting tonight at ten.”

Talon slides the sandwich onto a plate and turns to face me, his expression carefully neutral. “Where?”

“Blackstone Avenue.”

“Better make it a quick meal then.” He places the plate on the counter. “We'll need time to prep."

I nod, already turning toward the hallway. “I'll grab Z. Alex is your problem.”

“He's not in his room,” Talon calls after me, his voice carrying a hint of amusement that makes me pause.

I turn back, raising an eyebrow. “Where is he?"

“Where do you think?" Talon smirks, cutting his sandwich in half with more force than necessary. “He's been in Vesper's room for the last two hours.”

I roll my eyes, trying to ignore the twist of something uncomfortably like jealousy in my gut.

He circled his wagons around her the second Mario’s corpse was taken care of, and even with Vesper’s request to let her sleep alone, he couldn’t abide by it.

And he called me the clingy bastard between the two of us.

“Of course he is.”

“Don’t worry. She read him the riot act before she let him stay.”

“And you know this how?”

“Good hearing,” he says with a nonchalant shrug, his lips curling into a slight smirk.

“You were standing outside the door, weren’t you?”

“Can you blame me?” Talon takes a bite of his sandwich, talking around it without shame. “To be honest, I was surprised you weren’t there with me. Your twin has been a royal ass since Mario. It’s like the two of you Freaky Friday’ed.”

“We didn't 'Freaky Friday,' you ass,” I mutter, leaning against the counter. “I just know when to give a woman space.”

Talon snorts, nearly choking on his sandwich. “Since when?”

“I can be considerate.”

“Sure, Romeo.” He pushes the second half of the grilled cheese toward me. “Eat. You look like shit warmed over.”

I take the sandwich, suddenly aware of how hungry I am. “Thanks for the compliment.”

“Always here to boost your ego.” Talon wipes his hands on a dish towel. “So are you going to knock on her door, or am I?”

“Not it," Talon smirks. I start to head towards Vesper’s room when Talon clears his throat. “Can I ask you something, Oz?”

“Sure," I answer.

“How do you…”

“Share Vesper?”

“Yeah," he answers. “I know things between her, and I haven’t progressed quite as far as she has with you and Z…but…”

“Jealousy is a bitch, isn't it?” I offer him a half-smile. “Look, it's not like there's a handbook for this.”

Talon runs his hand over his face, dislodging more hair from his bun. “I didn't expect to feel this...territorial.”

I've felt it too, more times than I care to admit.

“It gets easier. But I won't lie to you—sometimes it still feels like someone's twisting a knife in my gut when I see her with Z.” I pause, choosing my words carefully. “But then I remember that whatever she gives to him doesn't diminish what she gives to me. It's different, but not less.”

“Very philosophical of you, Oz,” Talon says.

“To be fair, Z was the one who talked me off the jealousy ledge. It’s ironic considering his recent caveman shit. But, when he comes back to reality, he’ll be fine with whatever you have with Vesper.”

“Which will be what exactly?” Talon asks, his voice dropping lower. “With you two, it's clear. You've got history with her. Z's got that whole intense protective thing going. But me? I feel like I'm playing catch-up in a game where I don't know all the rules.”

I take another bite of the sandwich, giving myself time to think.

“There are no rules, man. That's kind of the point. Vesper's not a prize to be won or territory to be claimed. She could tell me she only wants Z, and while it would kill me, I’d respect her decision. She’s had enough choices taken away from her. I won’t deny her any kind of happiness. ”

Talon considers this for a moment. “Fair enough.” He pushes away from the counter. “I just...I've never felt this way about anyone before. It's unsettling.”

“Welcome to the club,” I mutter, finishing off the sandwich. “Now, are we done with this heart-to-heart? Because we've got a meeting to prep for, and I still need to drag my brother away from our girl's bed.”

Talon chuckles, heading toward the weapons cabinet disguised as a vintage armoire in the corner of our living room. “Good luck with that. Ten bucks says he growls at you.”

“Twenty says he throws something,” I counter, already moving down the hallway.

The door to Vesper's room is closed but not locked. I consider knocking, then decide against it. If Z is hovering over her like a Russian guardian angel with anger issues, it’s better to catch him off guard.

I push the door open quietly, expecting to find my brother perched on the edge of her bed. Instead, I find her curled into his chest with his arms wrapped protectively around her. Both, sound asleep.

For a moment, I just stand there, taking in the sight.

My brother's face is softer than I've seen it in days, the perpetual scowl replaced by something almost peaceful.

Vesper's blonde hair spills across his chest, her hand curled against his heart.

It's an intimate picture that makes me pause, feeling like an intruder.

Then Z's eyes snap open, instantly alert. He doesn't move, careful not to disturb Vesper, but his stare locks with mine in a silent warning.

“Meeting with Ricky at ten,” I say quietly. “We need to prep.”

Z's jaw tightens, but he nods almost imperceptibly. With careful movements, he begins to extract himself from Vesper's embrace. She stirs, murmuring something unintelligible.

“Shh, moya koroleva. Sleep a little longer.”

I lean against the doorframe, watching as my brother gently tucks the blanket around her before pressing a kiss to her forehead. He rises from the bed with silent grace, crossing to where I stand. As he passes, I catch Vesper’s scent clinging to him.

“I know what you’re going to say," he says once we’re in the hallway.

“You’re an insufferable asshole who doesn’t listen?” I fire back at him.

Z's lips quirk up in a half-smile. “She had a nightmare.”

‘And you just happened to be there?”

“I was checking on her.” He shrugs, unapologetic. “She didn't kick me out.”

“That seems to be a theme around here lately. You seem better,” I remark. “You two talk it out?”

“Yeah,” he admits.

“You good?”

“Getting there.” Z rubs a hand over his face. “She's...patient with me. More than I deserve.”

“How about you give Talon and Alex some of that patience? I believe it was you who told me that it’s Vesper’s choice.”

Z's jaw tightens, the muscle working beneath his skin. “I know what I said.”

“And yet…” I let the words hang between us, raising an eyebrow.

He sighs. “Fine. I'll play nice with St. James. But Alex? You don’t think…?”

I shoot my brother a knowing look. “Have you ever seen him be that protective over someone in the entire time we’ve known him?”

Z carefully considers the question.

“I just want you to be prepared, if, and when, it happens. Try not to piss off the son of a serial killer. I do like having a brother around.”

Z's jaw clenches. “Alex wouldn't hurt me.”

“Not intentionally, no,” I concede. “But we both know what happens when you push him too far.”

My brother's silence speaks volumes. We've all seen Alex's darker side—the cold, calculated precision that emerges when his control slips. The genetics he tries so desperately to suppress.

“Fair point. I'll ease up.”

“Miracles do happen,” I mutter, clapping him on the shoulder. “You can wake him up then.”

Z's lip curls. “I said I'd play nice, not perform a miracle.”

“Your problem, not mine.” I gesture toward Alex's closed door. “I've got weapons to prep.”

Z narrows his focus on me, then stalks toward Alex's room like a man heading to the gallows. I don't envy him. Alex waking up is like poking a hibernating bear—never a good idea unless you're ready for the consequences.

I make my way back to the living room, where Talon has transformed our dining table into an arsenal. Handguns, knives, and various other lethal implements lie in neat rows on a black cloth. He's methodically cleaning a Glock, “Where's Z?”

“Getting Alex.”

Talon winces. “Better him than me.”

I pick up one of the knives. “I need to go in light. I never openly carry when I meet with Ricky. Small caliber. Easily concealable.”

Talon nods, tapping a small Beretta on the table. “This should work. It'll fit in an ankle holster without showing.”

I pick up the gun, checking the chamber and magazine out of habit. It’s a beautiful piece—compact but built for damage. “This will work nicely.”

Z and Alex join us. Alex yawns as he drops into a chair. “Address?” he asks, voice still rough with sleep as he pulls out his phone. I rattle it off as Alex types on his phone. “Looks like an apartment complex. Didn’t you say that you usually meet him at Southie bar?”

“Yeah, this is the first time he’s given a new place to meet up.”