Page 88 of The Lost Zone (Dark Water #3)

“No, No, No!” Tyler threw his glass against the wall suddenly, causing Alex to jump, startled, as it smashed, the red wine painting a bright splash of colour on the white surface. “That’s not what I want. I want to see you . The real you.”

“This is me,” Alex whispered. “I don’t know how else to please you, sir.”

“I don’t believe you.” Tyler leaned across the table so that their faces were almost touching.

“I think you’re just biding your time in there, waiting me out, thinking you can fool me.

Well, you can’t. I’m on to you.” He pressed two fingers against his forehead then pointed them at Alex. “I’m watching you.”

Knowing better than to break cover, he just gazed back at Tyler emptily.

“Still nothing?” Tyler’s face twisted in fury. “Oh, just fuck off.”

For weeks, Tyler didn’t see him. Then, suddenly, he summoned Alex again.

He didn’t refer to their previous meeting, or how badly it had ended.

It was as if that didn’t exist. Tyler took him to view the construction site of the new floating city he was investing in, asked his opinion on business decisions, and, as always, seemed genuinely interested in his replies.

They had a good day, and after that, Tyler summoned him regularly for the next few months.

He was good company. Too good. Alex hated that he enjoyed being with him so much.

It was easier when he wasn’t called to his presence and didn’t have to deal with these contradictory feelings.

Was this Tyler’s plan? To break him with proximity and charm? If so, it was working.

The pressure was bearing down on him, crushing him slowly.

How long before he cracked and showed Tyler exactly who he was beneath the mask?

It would almost be a relief to break. To shout and scream and finally allow his feelings out.

But what did that do but return them to precisely where they’d been the day Solange had died?

Where could they possibly go after that?

Did it matter? Maybe he wanted it all to be over, even if it meant his own death.

The strain of being this person was too much.

Gideon had asked too much. Solange had asked too much.

He was stuck in this perpetual game of cat and mouse with Tyler, and one of them had to blink first. He was terrified it would be him.

He had a disturbing, recurring dream about drowning in a lost zone, his body sinking into the dark water, only when he looked down, he saw Solange, her dead eyes gazing back at him as she disappeared into the deep.

He woke screaming, fearful that his mind was betraying him.

Tyler might see the footage, but what could he do? He couldn’t control his dreams.

One morning, Andrew dressed him in a brand-new outfit, then showed him how he looked in the mirror.

“There, don’t you look perfect?” Andrew exclaimed.

Alex gazed at himself in silent despair.

He was wearing a pair of indigo jeans, a white shirt, and a purple sweater, matched with a brown leather jacket and a thin scarf in the same colours as the sweater and jacket.

He looked… exactly like himself. These were precisely the kinds of clothes he used to wear, back when he could choose for himself.

His hair was styled in short, artfully messy waves, he had just the right amount of stubble on his jaw to look casual but well groomed, and there were even silver rings on both his thumbs.

He looked every inch the Alex Lytton of old.

He knew what Tyler was trying to do. If the old Alex was still in there, Tyler was determined to find him and drag him out, kicking and screaming. He gazed despondently at the dark rings under his eyes and the sallow cast of his skin. This couldn’t go on for much longer. He was only human.

Tyler stepped back when he entered the room and let out a whistle. “Now that’s better. That’s the Alexander we know and love. How do you like being yourself again?”

“It’s very kind of you, sir, but I’m happy to wear whatever you like,” he replied evenly.

“But this is so you . You must feel much more comfortable now.” Tyler gave a sharp smile, and it suddenly struck Alex that he didn’t look very well, either.

His face was drawn and tired, and he’d lost weight, making his cheekbones hollow.

His body was even more honed than usual, as if he was working out tirelessly in the gym.

Maybe Tyler’s sleep was as disrupted as his was, and working out was the only way for him to find peace, in much the same way as Alex used yoga.

Clearly, this battle of attrition was taking its toll on Tyler, too.

That gave Alex hope. Maybe Tyler would blink first.

“I wanted you to feel comfortable, today of all days,” Tyler told him, making Alex wonder what new horror he had in store for him. “I’ll say no more.” Tyler tapped the side of his nose. “I want it to be a surprise. It’s a big day, Alexander. A big day.”

They flew to one of Tyler’s factories, which had been decorated for a party, with gold and black balloons hanging around the entrance. A welcoming committee shook Tyler’s hand, but he was impatient to move on, full of nervous, restless energy.

“I thought you should be here for this. Look.” Tyler wrapped an arm around his shoulders and ushered him towards the entrance.

He felt a sense of dread with every step, knowing that whatever lay in store for him here today had to be something big by the way Tyler was behaving – but what could it possibly be?

They reached the entrance, and he paused on the threshold, winded and unable to move, because there, right in front of him, shiny and gleaming, was a duck. And not just any duck, but one he knew intimately. A duck he’d designed.

“The first AV in our Destiny range,” Tyler announced gleefully. “This is our baby, Alexander, yours and mine. Look how beautiful she is.”

The duck was beautiful. It was everything he’d wanted it to be, with its elegant lines and sleek design. It was an object of desire, the very thing he’d insisted people craved after so many years of poverty and despair.

He understood immediately what Tyler wanted from him.

He knew he was supposed to be angry, upset, and wrong-footed.

This was all designed to force his hand and make him reveal his true self.

Yet all he could think about was how beautiful his baby was, and how pleased he was to see the design – his design – finally realised.

He walked around the vehicle, running a finger along its cool, shiny exterior.

Slipping into the passenger seat, he marvelled at how expertly Tyler had translated his ideas into reality.

This was all he’d wanted, to create this machine he was now sitting in, and he’d sold his soul for it.

Now it was here, with that glorious new-vehicle smell, and it was perfect.

He felt overwhelmed, overcome, and completely and utterly in love.

“Well? What do you think?” Tyler climbed into the driver’s seat beside him, his face a study in expectant triumph. Alex turned to him with tears in his eyes.

“She’s beautiful. Thank you,” he whispered, and then, without even thinking, he leaned over and pressed his lips to Tyler’s.

Tyler froze, while Alex let the kiss linger a second too long to be anything other than an invitation. He drew back to find Tyler gazing at him in horror, as if he’d ruined his favourite toy.

“What happened to ‘never gonna happen, pervert?’” Tyler threw at him.

“Please don’t remind me of how stupid I was back then.” Alex caressed Tyler’s cheek. “I was an idiot. Look at what you’ve done for me.” He stroked the AV lovingly. “I’m so lucky, and I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve you , but I promise I’ll do my very best to please you.”

It wasn’t the clumsy seduction of last year, or remotely like his pathetic attempt to make Tyler sleep with him in order to spare Solange.

It was real and full of longing, as authentic as Alex could make it, and his finest moment since this whole charade began.

He’d trumped Tyler’s ace and taken this game of cat and mouse to the next level.

Now the ball was in Tyler’s court. Had he ever really intended to sleep with him, or had that merely been just another weapon in his arsenal of psychological warfare?

Alex knew that he was about to find out.