Page 30 of All The Darkest Truths (Second Sons Duet #2)

ZAIRE

My knee won't stop bouncing. Six hours. She's been in there with him for six fucking hours. I check my watch again, though the time hasn't changed since I looked thirty seconds ago.

“If you keep that up, you're going to wear a hole in the floor,” Oscar says, not looking up from his phone.

My twin's calm exterior would fool anyone else, but I know better. The slight tension in his jaw, the fact that his phone doesn’t have a single app open, he's just as concerned as I am. He's just better at hiding it.

“It's been six hours,” I mutter, standing to pace the length of our living room. “What the hell are they doing in there?”

“Sleeping,” Talon answers from his spot on the armchair, scrolling through his phone. “Like normal humans do after being awake for forty-eight hours straight.”

“Together,” I point out, the word coming out sharper than intended. Shit. Get a hold of yourself.

Talon raises an eyebrow. “Jealous?”

“Concerned,” I correct, though the burning sensation in my gut suggests otherwise. "Alex isn't exactly the warm and fuzzy type."

“She went in to make sure he actually slept instead of working himself to death,” Oscar reminds me. “Which is what we all agreed needed to happen. Out of all of us, she is the only person he’ll listen to.”

“We agreed someone should check on him,” I counter. “Not crawl into bed with him.”

Talon snorts. “You don't know that's what happened. She could have him tied down to the bed for all we know.”

“Really?” I mutter, though Oscar's poorly concealed smirk tells me he disagrees.

“What? Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“You're overthinking this,” Oscar says, finally setting his phone down. “They're sleeping. That's it.”

“You don't know that,” I counter.

'“And you don't know otherwise,” he replies evenly. “Getting worked up over hypotheticals is pointless.”

I hate when he's reasonable. It's infuriating how he can remain so composed while I feel like I'm about to crawl out of my skin. The rational part of my brain knows he's right. We all agreed Vesper would check on Alex, make sure he got some rest before he collapsed. But rationality is in short supply when it comes to her. Alex is and always has been our wildcard. A genius with a kill count. While I know he won’t purposely hurt Vesper, a part of me can’t be certain that he won’t.

“Still, I don't like it,” I mutter, resuming my pacing.

“What exactly don't you like?” Oscar sets his phone down, finally giving up the pretense of distraction. “That she might be connecting with someone besides us? Or that it's Alex specifically?”

“Both. Neither. He's not...he doesn't know how to be gentle with her.”

“Have you seen our girl's knuckles lately? After you let her beat a punching bag until she bled? Glass houses, Z.”

“That was different,” I snap. “She needed that.”

“And maybe she needs this too,” Oscar says quietly. “She's not just ours, Z. She never was."“

The truth of his words lands like a blow. We've been so focused on protecting her, on keeping her safe within the boundaries we've established, that we've forgotten she isn't something to be possessed.

“I know that,” I mutter, though the admission costs me.

“Do you?” Talon challenges. “Because from where I'm sitting, you’re about two seconds away from kicking down his door and throwing her over your shoulder. You know, this jealousy issue of yours would be more in control if you accept that at some point, now, or later, Vesper and Alex will happen. It happened with you, Oz, and me. It’s inevitable, and her choice. ”

I am well aware it is her choice. I just don’t have to like it.

“The four of us need to sit down. Hash it out, preferably without bloodshed, make decisions, set boundaries, and move on. We could call it the LPM.”

Oz stares at Talon. Eyebrow arched. “And that means?”

“Love Pentagon Meeting. Get it?”

“No,” Oz and I answer at the same time.

“Oh, come on, it would solve all of our problems. We can meet monthly, discuss schedules, and figure out the room sharing situation. Think about it. No more stepping on toes or awkward interruptions. I mean, I love you guys, but I want time alone with her, too.”

“The answer is still no.”

“Aw, come on, it could be a great bonding experience for all of us. We could each come up with our couple names. Dibs on Tesper,” Talon smiles at me. “Oh! Yours could be Vere. No, we can do better than that…” he trails off.

"I hate you, Talon."

"That's not true," Talon grins with an infuriatingly smug look. "You adore me."

"Can't say I see it that way," I retort, attempting to keep my frustration from spilling over.

"Oh, I think you do," Talon shoots back, an insufferable teasing edge to his voice. "I could act offended, but I know you don't really mean it."

"But I really do." I glare at him, however, my irritation only seems to fuel his amusement.

“I have to admit I kind of like seeing you so on edge. So…what’s the word I am looking for, Oz?”

“Unstable? Capricious?” Oscar offers without hesitation, clearly enjoying my unraveling.

“Okay, Merriam Webster,” I snap, the defensiveness raw in my tone. “Still not funny.”

Unable to suppress his smile Talon adds, "It's amusing to watch you uncomfortable."

Oscar chuckles. “Vesper’s got you just where you deserve.”

“Strung out?" Talon suggests. “A nervous wreck?”

“Shut up. Both of you,” I mutter, though their relentless banter starts to chip away at my resolve.

“We should document this,” Oscar continues, sounding far too pleased.

“Don’t you dare,” I warn them both.

“Z is growing a sense of humor. Next thing you know, he'll start having fun. Speaking of fun," Talon chimes in, his grin widening. “I’ve been thinking about something. When's the last time you saw Alex with anyone? Like, actually with someone. Dating, hooking up, whatever.”

The question catches me off guard. I pause my pacing, trying to recall a single instance of Alex bringing someone home or mentioning a date.

“I can't remember," I admit reluctantly. “But that doesn't mean?—”

“Exactly,” Talon cuts in. “In the three years I've known him, not once. Not a single person. I was starting to think he was in a committed relationship with his computer.”

Oscar lets out a low chuckle. “He does spend more time with it than any human.”

"He doesn't broadcast his hook-ups."

“Hook-ups require leaving your room occasionally," Talon points out. "When does he ever go out unless it's for a job?"

I frown, trying to counter his logic and coming up empty.

I hate that Talon's right. But as much as I'd like to deny it, the signs have been there all along.

Alex tracks her across rooms. The way he softens, just barely, when she speaks.

How he lets her into spaces he keeps locked away to the rest of us.

It's the same gravitational pull we've all felt, drawing us into her orbit one by one.

“Look, I'm not saying you need to throw a parade for him,” Talon continues, his voice gentler now. “But maybe cut the guy some slack. This thing with Vesper…it's different for him.”

“Different how?” I challenge, though part of me already knows the answer.

“She makes him human, Z. Just like she does for you. For all of us.”

The truth in his words cuts deeper than I want to admit. Before Vesper crashed into our lives, we were functional at best—damaged men working together out of necessity, not choice. But now, there’s something different holding us together. Vesper.

When we got her back, something shifted in all of us. She became the center of everything. The constant. The one pulling us home like four lost ships in a storm.

She’s the gravity that keeps us from drifting too far. The reason we fight. The reason we stay.

“I still don't like it,” I mutter, but the heat has drained from my words.

“You don't have to like it,” Oscar says. “You just have to respect it. Her choice.”

The sound of a door opening down the hall silences us all. We turn collectively, watching as Vesper emerges from Alex's room. She pauses when she notices us all staring, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.

“Hi,” she yawns, padding barefoot into the living room. “Alex is still out. I didn't want to wake him."

“And you?” I ask, unable to keep the edge from my voice. “How did you sleep?”

“Better than I have in days, actually.”

Something in her expression dares me to make an issue of it. I swallow the jealousy rising in my throat, forcing myself to nod. "Good.”

“You know this place echoes, right?” she mentions as she shuffles by me and settles onto the couch next to Oz, curling her body against his.

“Which means?” Talon asks, his smug expression faltering slightly.

“Which means I heard your entire conversation,” she replies, her voice still husky with sleep. “Every word of it.”

My stomach drops. Fuck. I shoot a glance at Oscar, whose impassive expression betrays nothing, though I catch the slight tensing of his jaw.

"Mmmhmm," Vesper confirms, stretching her arms above her head. The movement causes her shirt to ride up, revealing a sliver of skin at her waist. "The Love Pentagon Meeting, Talon? Really?"

“Just throwing ideas out there. Creative problem-solving.”

She rolls her eyes but can't suppress a small smile. “And you,” she turns to me. “We’ve talked about this. Do we really need to talk about your possessiveness again?” I open my mouth, then close it, unable to find a response that doesn't make me sound like an asshole.

"That's what I thought. For the record, we did just sleep, despite my best efforts.”

I don’t miss the comment, but I let it go.

“He turned you down?” Talon interjects before he stops himself. “You know what. That’s not my business.”

“You’re right, it’s not. What I have with each of you, is just that, ours.”

Her direct challenge leaves me no room to maneuver, no space to hide behind excuses or deflection. The truth is, I hate the thought of her with Alex, but I hate disappointing her more.

Oscar's arm slides around her. “We won’t. Z is just worried about you.”