Page 18 of The Quarterlands (Dark Water #4)

Chapter Six

Alex

He was in uncharted waters now. Without the anchors of his song and his yoga, he’d been cast adrift, and he wasn’t sure how long he could keep afloat.

It didn’t help that Tyler’s controlling behaviour continued to escalate. He demanded to know every thought going through Alex’s head, and on several occasions, Alex woke to find him sitting up in bed watching him, brooding. It was claustrophobic and intense.

Over the Falls we go , Alex thought repeatedly. If only they could get it over and done with. But the falling was taking such a very long time, with neither of them prepared to give an inch.

Tyler was like a spider, watching the prey caught in his web, and Alex was the doomed fly, playing dead in the hope the spider would lose interest and he might escape.

Yet, Tyler prodded him constantly for evidence that the real Alex was still in there behind the platitudes and devoted service.

Alex’s nerves were shredded to pieces and he wasn’t sure how he was still alive by this point.

For Solange, he reminded himself, but he was starting to think that the task was simply too much.

Nobody could endure this amount of scrutiny and keep their true feelings hidden – it wasn’t possible .

Forbidden to hear his song, he repeated it over and over in his head. Forbidden to practise his yoga, he used his workout sessions to try and create the same effect. Neither was as good.

There was another problem, too, one that only became apparent a few months after Tyler’s triumphant march into Lytton AV; he’d overstretched himself financially.

“You should break it up,” one of his advisers told him in a meeting.

The man was Dutch, and he’d impressed Alex with his business savvy.

His name was Anders Visser, and he also wore a Tyler ID tag, which made his forthright way of talking to Tyler all the more impressive.

“You won’t get what you paid for it, but it’d mitigate your losses. ”

“I’m not bloody well selling Lytton AV,” Tyler said tightly.

“Well, you have to sell something. You’re stretched too thin. All that investment in floating city tech, and then you go and buy a failing AV company with no future.”

Alex listened intently, feeling a tiny flare of hope.

“You do have some expensive assets you could sell.” Visser glanced at Alex.

“No.” Tyler stood up, buttoning his jacket. “Alexander is non-negotiable. Lytton AV is non-negotiable. I’ve been in worse scrapes than this. I’ll survive.”

Alex didn’t doubt it. What followed was weeks of frantic holochats, wheeler-dealing, and the calling in of favours, to say nothing of the threat of blackmail.

Tyler had decades of footage of people in compromising positions and he dug it all out, unafraid to use it.

He had a frenetic, nervous energy and clearly thrived on flying by the seat of his pants, but his body was leaner than ever, his dark eyes sunken in his perma-tanned face.

The sex had changed too. Where once it had been raw and passionate, now it had morphed, slowly, into something uglier, the need for control more intense. Tyler took to pinning Alex down every time, holding his wrists so tightly they were covered in bruises.

“Look at me when I’m fucking you,” Tyler ordered, slapping his face one night when they were in bed.

“Sorry, sir.”

“Where do you go when your eyes are blank like that?” Tyler took his face in his hands and gazed at him searchingly. “Where are you? What are you hiding from me?”

“Nothing. You have me. I’m yours.” Alex caressed his cheek gently, feeling like a broken record – they had a variation of this conversation every few days.

“No. I own you, but I don’t possess you. I need to possess you, Alexander. I need to know you want only me, that you crave only me, that I’m all you think about, day and night.” His eyes were dark and savage. He looked deranged.

Alex hummed his song in his head so loudly he was surprised Tyler couldn’t hear him. Tyler slapped him again.

“Stop that!”

“What, sir?”

“Whatever the thing is that you’re doing. Your eyes go blank and you disappear. Don’t do it. I want you , the real you. Don’t do it. Don’t. ” Tyler took hold of his head and slammed it into the pillow repeatedly. “ Don’t disappear! ” he screamed like a madman.

The next morning he was contrite, as he often was after these outbursts.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to hurt you.” He took hold of Alex’s bruised wrist and kissed it gently. “Let me make it up to you. How about a little holiday, somewhere warm and beautiful.”

A few days later, Tyler took him to a small airport, where a team of people immediately swarmed around them, bringing them champagne, taking care of their luggage, and seeing to their every need.

Alex noticed the envious looks they cast at him.

If only they knew he’d rather live on the streets and eat trash than stew in the lap of Tyler’s luxury.

They boarded Tyler’s private jet and took off. Alex stared out of the window, sipping on his glass of champagne, gazing down on the flooded world below. He didn’t ask where they were going – he didn’t care.

Tyler was in a good mood now, but he was so mercurial that Alex never knew if it was going to last. It was tiring being the perfect courtesan, always ready and willing for sex, always attentive to his houder’s every whim, and all without the help of his anchors, his grasp on sanity slipping away daily.

All he wanted was respite – a day away from Tyler, a chance to regroup. He needed space.

“So, any guesses where we’re going?” Tyler sat down opposite him, clicking his fingers for a glass of champagne.

“I can’t think.” Alex smiled emptily. Tyler clearly wanted to delight him, but his fingerprints were etched in dark bruises all over his body.

“Well, I think you’ll like it. We both need a holiday. I’ve been a little short-tempered lately. It’s been a stressful time, calling in those favours and clawing back some funds, and I’ve taken it out on you.”

Alex supposed that was the closest he’d get to an apology.

“It’s just that you make me so angry. I know you’re holding back, hiding from me, when all I want is to make you happy.”

That wasn’t all he wanted. He wanted control. Alex’s happiness was irrelevant, yet he’d convinced himself of his own benevolence, like tyrants everywhere.

“This will be a chance for us to unwind together, to take in some sun. You’re looking far too pale.” Tyler reached across the table for Alex’s hand and gently stroked his fingers.

“That sounds perfect,” he murmured vacantly.

Tyler’s eyes darkened. “Well, try to sound as if you bloody well mean it.”

“Oh, I do. I’ve been so worried about you. You work too hard and you’ve been run ragged of late.” He remembered that endless flattery was a requirement of a good courtesan. “You need a break.”

“I do.” Tyler pulled his hand to his lips and kissed it, gazing at him meaningfully as he did so.

God, that was corny. “I’m sorry if I haven’t helped. I’ve felt so guilty. You bought Lytton AV for me, after all, and that’s what caused you all these financial issues.” He knew he was layering it on with a trowel, but Tyler seemed to buy it.

“Well, I always wanted to own Lytton AV. It was rightfully mine, given it was built off my father’s hard work.”

“Of course. I’m so glad it’s back where it belongs.”

Tyler seemed mollified by this conversation. “So, any guesses where we’re going?”

“I can’t even imagine. ”

Tyler seemed pleased by how mysterious he was being, so Alex pretended to be surprised by every delightful thing on the flight.

They walked off the plane into a beautiful, sunny day a few hours later and were immediately hustled onto a helicopter.

Alex still had no idea where they were, and Tyler seemed intent on prolonging the guessing game for as long as possible.

They finally landed on top of a cliff with gorgeous views over a beautiful bay.

Tyler took his hand and led him through a pretty olive grove to a modern house made, in typical Tyler style, of glass and steel.

“Recognise it?” he asked, smiling as he watched Alex’s face.

“Oh!” Alex was genuinely surprised to find he did recognise it. “It’s your Spanish house. I saw the designs. Is it finished, then?”

“Yes. And look.” Tyler led him through a courtyard and then into a beautiful room with views over the bay.

“I took your advice. I joined the terrace to the courtyard, and now you can see these beautiful views.” He gestured expansively.

“I also listened to your thoughts on the décor, and voila .” He waved at the Spanish-themed rugs and curtains, the objets d’art , sofas, shelves, and cushions.

There was still a disconnect between this most modern building and the rustic style inside, but Alex found himself approving all the same.

Left to his own devices, Tyler would have decorated it in red, white, and black, stark and aggressive colours, making it feel as cold and sterile as his other houses.

By adopting Alex’s ideas, he’d made it softer.

The smartwalls had been programmed to appear to be of a traditional stucco, and the floor tiles were a warm, faded orange.

“It’s beautiful,” he said honestly, gazing around.

Outside, there was a crystal-clear infinity pool, a firepit, and a cane sofa hanging on a swing. Gladioli, agapanthus, hibiscus, bougainvillea, and roses flowered in sprays of bright colours along a wall, surrounded by lavender, rosemary, and irises.

“I’m so glad you love it.” Tyler took his hand and showed him around, pulling him into every room and closet, all of them beautifully decorated. “We can relax here, just the two of us. Soak up the sun.”

How had he afforded it? The man had just fought tooth and nail to keep his business empire together and yet he’d clearly spent a small fortune on this place. How did he do it ?