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Chapter Nineteen

Alex

Mick very deliberately locked the SUAV doors as it screeched away.

Alex looked up at him in stunned silence, shocked by the sudden turnaround in his fortunes. His hip hurt from where he’d been shoved into the vehicle; he tried to lever himself up to sit on the seat behind, but Mick pushed him down.

“Runaways don’t get to travel in comfort. You can stay on the floor, where you belong.”

“Please, Mick, don’t take me back there,” Alex begged. “Don’t take me back to Tyler. I’d rather die.”

“Well, dying’s not an option for you, sadly,” Mick said with a shrug. “You’re a piece of scum, Alex – you always have been and always will be – so you can suck it up and learn to live with being an IS like the rest of us.”

“He doesn’t whore you out like he does me, Mick.”

The guard shrugged. “We’re all whores in our own way – anyone who has a chip under their skin.

You want to believe you’re special and different, but you’re not.

That kind of arrogance is what Tyler wants to squeeze out of you, and he will, eventually.

It’d be easier if you just gave in – running away hasn’t done you any favours. ”

“I tried to give him what he wants – you saw that – but it wasn’t enough for him.”

“No – you pretended , and he saw through you. Tyler wants the real deal – he’ll know it when he sees it.”

“And you’re taking me back to him? Knowing that?”

Mick nodded, slowly. “I am, Alex. I am. You see, you had everything, and you threw it all away. The rest of us never had anything to begin with, so why should I feel sorry for you? I want you to be what I am, to feel it, the same way I feel it – not to pretend, but to know what it’s really like.”

“Mick…”

“Shut up. We’re done here.” Mick threw the hood over Alex’s head again and fastened it around his neck.

Alex stared into the darkness, wondering if he could endure what was coming next.

They drove for a long time, and then he heard the sound of the SUAV crossing over a stretch of water.

He assumed they’d reached Ghost Eye, and that he’d soon be back in Vertex Tower, leading that soul-destroying life again.

His little taste of freedom, as terrifying as it had been at times, had simply served to remind him of what he’d lost.

If he’d jumped onboard Paul Andrews’s boat he’d be in France by now, starting a new life.

Yet… he couldn’t regret holding his father’s hand and telling him that he loved him.

It had been worth it for that – if his father died, at least he wouldn’t have it on his conscience that he’d failed him one last time.

The vehicle came to a halt, and his stomach lurched in terrified anticipation.

He heard the door being opened, and he was dragged out and propelled into a building.

He wasn’t sure where he was, but it didn’t sound or feel like Ghost Eye.

He wasn’t taken to a lift – he was escorted along a cool, tiled floor and into a room and then forced onto his knees.

There was a long silence, and then suddenly the hood was yanked off. He found himself kneeling in front of Tyler’s white leather sofa in the living room of The Lighthouse, in Lewes, where he’d first met him a year ago, in a different life.

Tyler was sitting on the sofa, gazing down at him. He didn’t look smug or pleased with himself. He looked furious. He was wearing a black shirt and a pair of black jeans, and there were dark shadows under his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept in days. His major-domo was standing behind him.

Sneaking a glance around, Alex noticed there were two guards he didn’t know by the door, and Mick had taken up position by the huge French windows that looked out over the golf course.

Next to him was Ted. His spirits rose a fraction to see at least one friendly face.

Ted didn’t – couldn’t – smile, but their eyes met, and he took comfort from Ted’s presence.

“So, the prodigal returns,” Tyler snapped. “Aren’t we lucky?”

Alex said nothing, because there was nothing to say.

“And he’s uncharacteristically silent,” Tyler mused. “No whining, Alexander? No self-justifications? No begging for forgiveness, or mercy, or special treatment? No ‘ but it was an accident’ ?” he mocked in a sing-song voice.

Alex shook his head, looking down at the floor.

“Well, maybe your little escapade has taught you something, then,” Tyler grunted.

“It’s certainly taught me something. I under-estimated you.

You managed to evade my men for far longer than I expected.

Do you have any idea the money I had to spend getting you back?

The resources I had to throw into finding you? Or the time I wasted doing it?”

Alex still said nothing.

Tyler leaned forward and backhanded him across the jaw.

He went flying, his bound hands preventing him from breaking his fall, blood trickling down his chin.

“I asked a direct question, and I expect an answer,” Tyler barked.

“Sorry, sir,” he croaked.

Tyler loomed over him, grabbing hold of his hair and pulling him back, so that he was kneeling in front of him again. “This is where I want you, so please move back into position after I hit you,” he said, in a bizarre parody of politeness. “I will be hitting you again, obviously. ”

Alex made no reply; he just stayed where he’d been placed, with his head down.

“I had to call in a lot of favours to keep it quiet. I’m legally obliged, of course, to report the escape of a convicted felon.

You’re not just any IS, Alexander – you were sentenced to serve seven years for your crime.

So that makes you an escaped prisoner, and therefore not only my problem but the state’s, too. ”

“I’m sure Martin Bagshaw took care of that for you,” Alex said sarcastically. Tyler backhanded him again, and he fell sideways, onto his aching hip.

“You may speak only to answer direct questions,” Tyler instructed, as he struggled back into a kneeling position.

“And it’s not that simple. I have to account for you and report on your welfare regularly.

If you’d been found by anyone other than my men, or if you’d told the press your pathetic ‘story’ and the authorities had found out I hadn’t informed them of your escape, there would have been serious consequences for me. ”

“I would have loved to tell the media my story, but I assumed you’d know someone who could hush it up for you,” Alex said.

Tyler delivered another backhander. “Listening to clear instructions has always been a problem for you, hasn’t it?” he said as Alex crawled back into position.

“Yes, sir,” Alex said, his jaw throbbing painfully.

“I had to get in men, dogs, helicopters, and search specialists. That was very expensive and very annoying. So you can understand why I’m angry with you.”

Alex wasn’t sure if that was a question or not, so he just nodded again.

“I even went to see your father,” Tyler said.

Alex looked up, his eyes blazing.

“Ah, you didn’t know that.” Tyler sat back, gazing at him thoughtfully.

“I went to see him the night before he had his stroke. I told him you’d escaped, and I reminded him what I can legally do to an IS that runs away, especially one serving out a prison sentence in my custody. He was most distressed. ”

“ You caused his illness,” Alex hissed furiously. “You made him so upset he had a stroke.”

“You can’t make someone have a stroke by giving them unwelcome news.” Tyler shrugged. “He was already in a bad way – due to months of stress, strain, and the shame of what his youngest son did to him. If anyone caused his illness, it’s you.”

“You bastard.” Alex got to his feet and lunged.

He couldn’t do much except scream, and kick, and attempt to bite Tyler, but it felt good all the same.

Mick and the major-domo pulled him off, threw him onto the floor a safe distance away, and held him there.

Alex glared at Tyler, his chest heaving angrily.

“He was your friend, once. You grew up together. Don’t you have any feelings for him?

” He saw a flicker of guilt in Tyler’s eyes and knew he’d hit a nerve.

“You’re right,” Tyler said quietly. He stood up and adjusted his shirt where it had been snagged in Alex’s attack. Then he crouched down in front of him and lightly touched his bruised jaw. “I never intended to harm your father, Alexander. This has never been about him – it’s about you.”

“When it’s about me, it is about him. He’s my father.”

“Ah, it’s touching that you believe he still loves you, after what you did to him and the rest of your family. You really do believe that, don’t you?” Tyler rubbed his thumb gently over Alex’s chin.

“Yes,” Alex replied stubbornly.

“He disowned you,” Tyler reminded him.

“I know.” Alex felt the fight go out of him. He hung his head again.

“Poor, unloved Alexander,” Tyler said, getting up and moving back to the sofa.

He sat down and gestured to his men. They dragged Alex back into his former position, kneeling in front of Tyler.

“I never wanted to hurt your father. I didn’t plan his illness, but I have to admit it worked out well for me.

I wondered if you’d have the balls to show up at the hospital; I’m both surprised and impressed that you did. It was stupid, but brave. I like that.”

“I don’t care what you like,” Alex snapped defiantly.

Tyler nodded thoughtfully. “I know, and that’s the problem.

Mr Drummond did warn me that the approach I was taking with you wouldn’t work, and he was right.

” He glanced at the major-domo. “He carries that strap in his belt because running a huge household of indentured servants requires constant discipline. None of my indies are safe from the strap – and we make very sure they know it.”

Alex thought back to Mick’s words in the SUAV on the way here, about how he was the same as the rest of them. Now he understood why Mick didn’t care about his plight.