Page 41 of All The Pretty Little Lies

"You...you drugged me," I accuse, my voice hoarse and unfamiliar to my own ears.

The taller of the two men steps forward, his eyes filled with regret. "I'm sorry that I did that, but you were hurting yourself.”

I stare at him, my mind racing to catch up. There's something about those eyes, silver orbs ringed in blue. A memory tugs at the edges of my consciousness, like a half-forgotten dream.

"Z-Zaire?" I whisper, the name falling from my lips before I can even process where it came from.

He nods, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "You remember."

As I look at him, really look at him, more memories come flooding back. The tattoos snaking up his arms. The way his stare cuts right through you.

As if summoned by his words, memories come flooding back. Zaire Petrov. The second son. The twin. Oscar’s brother. My gaze darts to the other man – Talon St. James, his familiar easy smile now taut with worry.

"You were supposed to save me," I say, my voice cracking. "You promised.” I shake my head, trying to clear away the last vestiges of the drug-induced fog.

A shadow of pain crosses Zaire's face. "I know. We tried. God, Vesper, we tried so hard. But Oscar-"

“He was the man in my room when you drugged me,” I recall.

I stare at Zaire, his words sinking in like stones in a still pond, rippling through my consciousness. The mention of Oscar sends a shiver down my spine, memories of his silhouette in my room flickering at the edges of my mind. Zaire's face softens, his eyes full of an emotion I can't quite place.

"It's probably best if you talk to him yourself and hear it from him."

I open my mouth to protest, but Talon steps forward, his easy smile a stark contrast to the tension in the air. "Hey, how about we get some food in you? You must be starving."

As if on cue, my stomach lets out an embarrassingly loud growl. I feel heat rise to my cheeks, but Talon just chuckles, the sound warm and familiar in a way that makes my chest ache.

"I'll take that as a yes," he says, extending his hand to me.

I hesitate, eyeing his outstretched palm warily. Part of me wants to refuse, to maintain this fragile distance between us. But another part, a part I thought long buried, yearns for the contact, for the comfort of a friendly touch.

Slowly, I place my hand in his. His skin is warm, calloused in places, and I can feel the strength in his grip as he helps me to my feet. The world tilts for a moment, my legs still unsteady from the lingering effects of the sedative, but Talon's arm wraps around my waist, steadying me.

"I've got you," he murmurs, his breath warm against my ear.

We make our way back into the house, my bare feet padding softly on the wooden floors. The kitchen is bright and airy, sunlight streaming through large windows that overlook a lush garden. Talon guides me to a chair at the table, his hand lingering on my shoulder for a moment before he moves away.

"Alright, let's see what we've got," he says, rummaging through the refrigerator. "How does grilled cheese sound? With tomato soup?"

The thought of real food, something other than the bland, tasteless meals I've become accustomed to, makes my mouth water. I nod, not trusting my voice.

As Talon busies himself at the stove, the sound of footsteps draws my attention. A man I don't recognize enters the kitchen, his blond hair mussed and eyes heavy with fatigue. He stops short when he sees me, surprise flickering across his face before it settles into a gentle smile.

"Vesper," he says, his voice rough with sleep. "It's good to see you up. I'm Alex. We've met before, but..." he trails off, running a hand through blonde hair. “I was there when your brother got his ass kicked. Sorry about that.”

"Luca?" I breathe, the name catching in my throat. "You've seen my brother?"

Alex's face falls, and I feel my heart sink. "We were trying to find him," I say, memories flooding back. "Before...before everything. You promised you'd help me find him."

Talon sets a steaming plate in front of me, the aroma of melted cheese and toasted bread making my stomach growl louder. But I can't take my eyes off Alex, silently pleading for answers.

"We've been looking," Alex says softly, pulling up a chair next to me. "But Vesper, I'm sorry. There's been no sign of him."

I close my eyes, feeling the weight of disappointment settle over me like a heavy blanket. When I open them again, I find Talon watching me with concern, a bowl of tomato soup in his hands.

"Eat," he says gently, placing the bowl next to my plate. "We can talk more after you've had something."

I nod, suddenly aware of the gnawing emptiness in my stomach. I pick up half of the grilled cheese sandwich, the butter glistening on the perfectly toasted bread. The first bite is like an explosion of flavor in my mouth. The sharp tang of the cheese, the crunch of the bread, the subtle hint of herbs. It's almost overwhelming after so many bland, tasteless meals.

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