Page 84 of All The Pretty Little Lies

“Message boards,” he shrugs nonchalantly. “You can meet all kinds of interesting people online.”

TALON

I can't helpbut grin as I watch Alex and Zaire finish up their handiwork on Ivanov. The sight of the bastard's frozen ass would be almost comical, if it weren't for the gravity of the situation. I've seen some creative torture methods in my time, but a liquid nitrogen enema? That's a new one even for our twisted little family.

"Talon, we need to move," Oscar's voice cuts through my thoughts, sharp and urgent. I turn to see him with his arm around Vesper, her face buried in his chest. My heart clenches at the sight. She's been through hell, and it's not over yet.

"Right," I nod, snapping into action. "I'll get the gear packed up."

I move swiftly, gathering Alex's toys, an assortment of computers and their accessories, and our arsenal of weapons. The weight of the guns is comforting in my hands, a reminder of the power we wield and the protection we can offer Vesper. My father used to joke that I was born with a gun in my hand, and my skills with them would attest that’s true.

As I load the car, I can't help but replay Oscar's words in my head. Mario’s involvement in Vesper's abduction changes everything. We're exposed, vulnerable. The beach house, our safe haven, might as well have a target painted on its roof. There’s no one for miles.

I glance back at Oscar and Vesper, still locked in an embrace. Oscar's usually stoic face is etched with concern, his blue eyes dark with worry. He's whispering something to her, probably reassurances, but I can see the tension in his shoulders. He knows as well as I do that we're far from out of the woods.

“We’re ready. I’ll drive,” I yell to Oscar slamming the trunk shut.

Oscar walks Vesper outside, his arm protectively wrapped around her waist. Her steps are unsteady, and I can see the way she leans into him for support. The sight stirs something primal within me, a mix of protectiveness and a darker, more possessive emotion that I'm not ready to name. Oscar has always been in love with Vesper. It’s not shocking that Zaire fell almost as quickly. But, me. I barely knew her. But the longer I’m around her, I can see why the twins fell so fast. Despite everything she has been through, she’s still held on to her eternal light. It’s no wonder I seem to be gravitating towards her orbit just like they have.

As they approach the car, I open the back door for them. Oscar gently helps Vesper inside, his movements careful andtender. It's a side of him I rarely see, this softness that seems reserved only for her. He slides in next to her, and I watch as she immediately curls into him, her head resting in his lap.

The sound of her muffled sobs fill the car, each quiet gasp like a dagger to my chest. I grip the steering wheel tighter, my knuckles turning white as I fight the urge to reach back and comfort her myself. But this isn't my moment. It's Oscar's, and I respect that, even as jealousy gnaws at my insides.

I turn the key in the ignition, the engine roaring to life. The familiar purr does little to calm my nerves as I throw the car into drive and peel out of the gravel driveway. Rocks spray behind us, a cloud of dust in our wake as we leave the beach house, and the nightmare it now represents, behind.

The tires screech as we hit the main road, and I push the speedometer well past the legal limit. The darkness of the night envelops us, broken only by the occasional streetlight and the glow of our headlights cutting through the gloom. In the rearview mirror, I catch glimpses of Oscar stroking Vesper's hair, whispering words of comfort I can't quite make out over the rumble of the engine.

Her cries gradually soften, but the pain in those quiet whimpers is no less potent. Each sound twists something inside me, fueling a rage I've been trying to keep in check. I want to turn this car around, go back, and make Ivanov suffer even more for what he's done to her. But I know that's not what she needs right now. What she needs is safety, comfort, and time to heal.

As we speed down the coastal highway, the ocean a dark, ominous presence to our right, I can't shake the feeling that we're being watched. Every set of headlights in the distance sets my teeth on edge. Is it Victor's men? Have they already found us? The paranoia is suffocating, but I force myself to focus on the road ahead.

"How is she?" I ask Oscar, my voice low and rough with emotion.

"She's falling asleep," he replies softly, his hand never ceasing its gentle caress of her hair.

“Do you really think her uncle did this to her? It doesn’t make sense. Unless, he knew we were going to stop her from getting to the airport,” Oscar offers.

“That’s not possible,” I argue back. “It’s something else. Something we’re not seeing.”

The miles stretch out before us, an endless ribbon of asphalt disappearing into the night. I settle into the rhythm of the drive, my body on autopilot while my mind races. The soft hum of the engine and the occasional whisper of tires on the road are the only sounds breaking the heavy silence.

Hours pass, marked only by the changing of the sky from inky black to the muted grays and the pinks of dawn. In the rearview mirror, I catch glimpses of Vesper, still curled up with her head in Oscar's lap. Her face, relaxed in sleep, looks impossibly young and vulnerable. Oscar hasn't moved, his hand a constant, soothing presence on her hair.

As the sun begins to climb higher in the sky, the familiar silhouette of our warehouse looms on the horizon. The worn brick façade and rusted metal roof belie the state-of-the-art security system hidden within its walls. A wave of relief washes over me as I guide the SUV through the concealed entrance, the heavy steel doors grinding shut behind us.

I park in our designated spot, killing the engine. The sudden silence is deafening. Oscar stirs, carefully maneuvering Vesper's sleeping form.

"I've got her," he murmurs, scooping her up effortlessly. "I'll take her up to the penthouse."

I nod, watching as he carries her to the elevator, her blonde hair cascading over his arm like spun gold. The doors close, and I'm left alone in the cavernous garage.

With a sigh, I turn to the task at hand. The trunk is packed to the brim with our gear, and I methodically begin unloading. Each piece of equipment is a reminder of the night's events; the computers Alex used to hack Ivanov's security, the weapons we didn't need to use but were prepared to, the medical supplies we thankfully didn't have to break out.

I'm hauling the last box out when I hear the unmistakable rumble of another vehicle approaching. Tensing instinctively, I relax when I recognize the sleek black Audi pulling into the garage. Zaire and Alex are here.

The car barely comes to a stop before Zaire is out, his face a mask of barely contained fury and concern. He doesn't even spare me a glance as he strides past, making a beeline for the elevator. The doors open as if on cue, and he disappears inside.

Alex emerges more slowly, his usually cheerful face drawn and tired. He moves to help me with the remaining gear, but I wave him off.

---