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“It wasn’t. As a child, I could spend hours looking at a butterfly’s wings, learning how they worked, and studying the colours and patterns so I could draw them. After I became an IS, I had to learn to find happiness in the small things again and forget about the big things.”

“Your father said something to me the other day,” Josiah recalled. Alex went very still.

“I asked him if you were capable of killing anyone, and he told me that the only way he could imagine you turning into a killer was if you weren’t able to see the beauty in the world anymore, the way you once did, as a child.”

Alex’s eyes were suddenly wet.

Josiah realised that he hadn’t appreciated the great love that existed in that relationship.

He’d been blinded by the bare facts of what Alex had done to his father, and Noah Lytton’s angry words in response, disowning his son.

He hadn’t seen what lay beneath all that – a bond that had once been strong but had become twisted somewhere along the way.

Yet the love remained, beneath the bitterness, anger, and harsh words – he’d seen it in Noah Lytton’s eyes, and he was seeing it now, in Alex’s.

“Did he really look okay when you saw him?” Alex asked. “Was he well?”

“He was fine. He’s suffered a couple of strokes and doesn’t walk very well, but he’s still strong mentally.”

“I knew about the strokes,” Alex confessed, wiping the back of his hand over his eyes.

Josiah handed his handkerchief silently across the table.

Alex took it gratefully, pressed it to his eyes, then buried his face in it for a second.

When he looked up again, the tears were gone.

“It’s too quiet – we need music,” he said brightly.

“I made a playlist while you were working today; I hope you like it.” He instructed the room speakers to play, then took off his tie and undid the top button of his shirt collar.

Unbuttoning his cuffs, he rolled the sleeves up to his elbows with tense, jerky movements.

Josiah studied him curiously, seeing a nervous energy in all the frenetic activity.

“You should take off your tie.” Alex gestured. “Relax. Chill out.”

“Uh… okay.” Josiah removed it and undid the top button of his shirt, too, feeling that everything had gone a bit weird. “So, you like Th e Beatles, huh?” he asked, recognising the familiar intro to one of his favourite songs.

“Yes – and so do you, don’t you?” Alex looked straight at him.

Immediately, Josiah sensed there was something behind the question that he didn’t understand.

“Yeah – I love their stuff – and Queen and Led Zeppelin, too. I’m a huge fan of Pre-R rock. How did you guess?”

Alex took a bite of his fish and waved the question away with his hand.

There was another strangely charged silence while they finished their meal, and then Alex sat back and cleared his throat.

Josiah gazed at him expectantly. Alex had said he was going to tell him the big secret tonight – one of them, at least, because he was sure the IS had several. Was that why he looked so nervous?

“I deserved my sentence,” Alex said, unexpectedly.

“Okay.” Josiah sat back, too, wondering where this was going.

“I stole from my father’s company. It was a stupid, terrible thing to do, and I deserved to be punished.”

“Okay,” Josiah said again. “Why are you telling me this again now?”

“In case you thought… in case I’d led you to believe that I was in any way innocent, or a victim.

I wasn’t. I did something bad, and I paid for it – by God, I paid for it.

I was twenty-three, and in many ways young for my age, and completely out of my depth with a man like Tyler.

I didn’t know what to do, or how to fight back, and honestly, I’m not sure I had many options, looking back.

I can be moody and selfish, but I’m not Machiavellian, ruthless, or even particularly cunning. I’m…”

“The boy who could stare at butterflies for hours on end,” Josiah put in softly.

Alex smiled. “Yes, if you like. I was an artist, a mixed-up kid, and someone who made a huge mistake. I deserved to pay for that mistake, Joe, but I didn’t deserve what Tyler did to me.

I told you he had me raped in the most brutal way, and beaten until I was raw, and that he filmed it, but I didn’t tell you that he made me sit with him and watch it back after. ”

“Christ!” Josiah felt his gut clench angrily .

“He wanted to break me,” Alex said flatly. “He told me so, repeatedly. That was his aim – to break me.”

“And he succeeded?”

Alex shook his head. “How could he? I was already broken.”

Josiah frowned. “The duck accident with your mother and brother…?”

“Yes.” Alex shrugged. “All he could do was break me further, which he did, but I was already damaged goods when he got his hands on me.”

“Christ, Alex – I don’t know what to say.”

“I’m not telling you this because I want your sympathy,” Alex retorted sharply. “I’m telling you because I need you to understand.”

“Understand what?” Josiah asked. “That George Tyler is a bastard? I already know that. That he’s been getting away with mistreating his indies for far too long?

I know that, too – and I promise you that once I’ve caught Dacre’s killer, I will convince Esther to go after Tyler next.

We’ll find some evidence from somewhere. ”

“Thank you, but again – that’s not why I’m telling you this.”

“Then why…?”

“Because this is going to get really personal really fast, and I don’t know what’s going to happen after that, so I want to give you some facts to hang on to before we get to the point where you stop listening to me.”

“You’re not making any sense,” Josiah replied helplessly.

“It will all make sense soon enough. Before then… honestly, I just want to enjoy this some more. This… you… me…” Alex waved his hand at the remains of their meal and then at the box of art supplies in the corner.

“This is the best day I’ve had in a very long time – I can’t even remember a day that was as good as this.

Maybe there wasn’t one. Maybe this is the best day of my life so far, and I want to thank you for that.

I want to thank you for believing in me, as well…

for what you said to the press, for defending me to Reed, for going up against Esther for me, for including me in your work like I have a valid opinion, and I matter.

For telling Jeffrey Mead where to go, for noticing I was bored, for buying me what’s in that box, and for asking me what my favourite food is and then fetching it for me.

Thank you,” he s aid sincerely, his eyes shining brightly. “Thank you so much.”

“It seems little enough,” Josiah murmured, a lump forming in his throat.

“Not to me. It’s everything to me. Being here, with you, like this – it’s something I’ve dreamed about for a very long time, but the reality is so much better.”

“I don’t see how, when we only met a few days ago.

Maybe you mean you dreamed about doing something like this with someone like me,” Josiah said, frowning.

He could understand that – Alex had led such a lonely life as an IS, catering to the whims of evil or capricious houders.

No wonder he’d fantasised about something as normal as having a nice dinner with someone who was kind to him.

“You see, I never believed what the papers said about you, but I had to be sure,” Alex continued. “You became the great indiehunter, after all. How was I to know if what happened to Peter hadn’t changed you?”

“It did,” Josiah admitted gruffly.

“Yes – but not in the way the press thought. Now…” Alex stood up. “Let’s dance.”

“What?” Josiah stared at him.

“One dance – because I want to know what that’s like before it all goes to hell.” He held out his hand.

“Alex, what on earth are you talking about?”

“Just one dance.” Alex grinned as the jangling chords of a familiar Beatles song started playing. “C’mon – it’s ‘Love Me Do’ – what could be more appropriate?”

He took hold of Josiah’s hand and pulled him out of his seat. Josiah went willingly, wondering where the hell this was going.

Alex twisted in time to the beat, throwing himself around energetically.

Josiah chuckled and joined in; he hadn’t danced in years, and it felt good to let himself go.

He clasped Alex’s hand tightly and rested a hand on his hip as they rocked it out together, grinning at each other manically.

Alex did some fancy moves, and Josiah mimicked them mercilessly, which made Alex laugh so much he almost fell over.

Josiah caught him, and Alex pressed in close and leaned up.

They stared at each other for a moment, and then Josiah dipped his head and their lips met.

His body flooded with warmth as they kissed – a sweet, long, tender kiss that thawed out whatever was left of the ice inside his heart.

He knew Elsie, Esther, Reed, and so many other people would be horrified if they ever found out.

They would say it was wrong, but it felt so right.

Alex drew back and placed his finger over Josiah’s mouth.

“Hold that thought,” he said softly as the song changed.

Josiah froze as Ashton’s voice began to warble sadly around the room.

Old dreams fade slow

You once said that you’d never let go

Sweet words, wide smiles

You always said that you’d stay awhile

“I hate this song,” Josiah snapped. He’d avoided it since that night. Once, he’d heard it playing in a shop and had walked out – only to find blood on the palms of his hands when he got home where the nails of his clenched fists had dug into his skin.

“Yes, and I know why,” Alex said. “You hate it because it was playing in the car on the night Peter was killed.”

Josiah went cold. “How do you know that? I never told anyone. Nobody knows that.”

“Only the four people who were there, and two of them are dead,” Alex said softly. “The other two are in this room right now.”

Josiah’s stomach lurched sickeningly. “What?” he rasped.