Page 63 of The Quarterlands (Dark Water #4)

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, gazing at the picture.

Did he even want to fulfil his mission now, given all the years that had passed since her death?

He sat down, suddenly feeling winded. Did he?

Or was he just fooling himself? Yes, it would be difficult, and yes, he was afraid, but how hard was he even trying? Should he give up on it altogether?

“No.” The answer was immediate and clear.

He still wanted to bring the full force of the law down on George Tyler’s head.

There was, buried inside him, a thirst for justice that went so deep he knew he’d never give up on it.

“I promise,” he told the photo. “I promise I’ll find a way to make it happen one day. ”

When he returned home, he ran straight upstairs to his bedroom, took the image of Hudson Brink off the wall, and slipped Solange’s photo behind it to keep it safe and hidden from Elliot’s view.

From then on, whenever he wanted to stiffen his resolve, he would pull out the photo and gaze at it, remembering his vow.

He would do this. Somehow, he would find a way, even if it took him years.

After its meteoric rise, Elliot’s star began to fall. His holopics, which had once seemed so cutting edge, now seemed cheesy as new photographers emerged with better ideas.

In a desperate attempt to regain his crown, Elliot decided to double down on the homoerotic content of his pictures.

There was no doubt he’d always had a primarily gay and female following, who loved the way he captured the male body, and now he embarked on a series of portraits he titled simply “Muse”.

These consisted largely of a number of nude black-and-white holopics of Alex.

For this series, Elliot stripped away all the drama.

There were no ruined castles or dramatic snow scenes, and definitely no ravens.

It was simply Alex in various nude poses as the holocam moved around him, drinking in his beauty and somehow managing to capture the mask that made him so tantalisingly elusive.

Elliot created a room decorated entirely in white, placed a black bed in the centre, and bought white satin bedding. Then he applied a light layer of make-up to Alex’s back to hide the silvery scars.

“I don’t want anything to spoil the perfection of the image, my love,” he murmured as he rubbed it in.

He circled Alex for hours, trying to recapture the magic that would reverse his ailing fortunes.

Alex knew for sure that he was in financial trouble now, because he’d heard him talking to various banks and pleading his case.

It was all very well being a famous holophotographer, but even when it had been going well, it hadn’t been bringing in the kind of money that Elliot had been spending.

That fact had finally caught up with his houder, who was robbing Peter to pay Paul.

This made Alex increasingly anxious. Supposing Elliot sold him?

He had to be the most expensive thing Elliot owned, and he was sure that if he did sell him, Tyler would want a say in who bought him next.

The worst-case scenario was that Elliot would sell him back to Tyler; he didn’t think he could survive that.

“Okay, Chris, I want you on your front while I move around behind you. When I say the word, look over your shoulder, straight at the holocam,” Elliot instructed.

Alex lay on the bed, naked, the cool air from the nearby open window wafting over his bare skin.

“So, sweetie, I have a funny story to tell you,” Elliot said as he worked away behind Alex, moving the holocams around. Alex drifted off. Elliot’s funny stories invariably involved tedious gossip about his numerous gay friends. “Would you believe, someone offered to buy you? Isn’t that a hoot?”

Alex’s stomach flipped. Charles. It had to be him.

Wonderful, beloved Charles. He’d promised he’d save enough money to buy him, but Alex had never been entirely sure he believed him.

Like Elliot, Charles was terrible with money.

Alex took a moment to ensure his mask was firmly in place, and then he turned to look straight at the holocam.

“Oh, that’s perfect, Chris,” Elliot said, snapping away. “Marvellous. Anyway, I gave him short shrift. He ran off with his tail between his legs, I can tell you.”

“Who was it?” Alex asked in a nonchalant tone, as if he didn’t care.

“Oh, I don’t know. Neil somebody. He sent a letter. Can you believe that? How old-fashioned. I thought, at first, that he wanted to buy a portrait of you, but no. He wanted to actually buy your contract.”

Alex shivered. Neil? Surely it had to be Neil Grant. But how the hell would he have found enough money to buy his contract?

“Anyway, I thought you’d find that amusing.

” Elliot laughed, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Alex hadn’t smiled once.

“Of course, I said no. As if. You are not for sale, sweetie. Never ever.” He said that very firmly, and Alex had no doubt he meant it.

But he also knew that Elliot’s whims were so changeable as to make it meaningless.

“I promise you that I tore up his letter and threw it away.”

He hadn’t thought about Neil Grant in years.

Maybe it hadn’t been Neil, but surely it was too much of a coincidence?

Alex returned to his room a little while later and gazed at the Halo of Fire picture.

Neil Grant and this picture were indelibly linked in his mind, together with all the complexities of that relationship.

God, he hoped it wasn’t Neil. The last thing he wanted was his former flatmate gatecrashing back into his life.

He took the picture off the wall and removed the photo of Solange. “Soon,” he promised. She stared back at him from those sad, dark eyes. “I haven’t given up on you. It’s just very hard. I know I overthink it, but if I fuck it up, that’ll be it – for you and for me.”

The nude series turned out quite beautiful, but it wasn’t enough to halt the decline in Elliot’s fortunes.

As his financial woes increased, he became more and more bad-tempered, and Alex was forced to tiptoe around him.

Elliot was never vicious like Tyler. He thought nothing of delivering a sharp slap to Alex’s face, but never anything worse than that. Still, Alex had no wish to provoke him.

A few weeks later, Elliot told him about another offer to buy him, sounding just as gleeful as before.

“You see, I have the IS that everyone wants,” he crowed. “But they can’t have you because you belong to me.” This all fed into his sexual proclivities, the idea of other men lusting after Alex, and Elliot deciding who could have him and who would be denied – one of Elliot’s favourite fantasies.

“Who was it this time?” Alex asked, pretending to glance at the magazine he was reading, so that Elliot wouldn’t think he cared that much.

“Not anyone you’d know.” Elliot laughed.

“Are you imagining it’s some handsome movie star, like Hudson Brink?

Ooh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Not really.

“Well, it isn’t. It’s just this man who saw us out one day and took rather a fancy to you.

When he noticed me having a latte at The Coffee Cabin while you were at the gym this morning, he approached and made an offer.

Isn’t that hilarious? I said no, of course, but he was quite serious.

” Elliot frowned. “I wonder why all these bids are coming in now?”

“Maybe because my sentence was for seven years and that’s up soon?” Alex suggested. “So, technically I can be freed, if my houder is willing to take the loss. ”

“Well, you’re not going anywhere,” Elliot exclaimed. “It’s not about the money. I simply couldn’t live without you, darling.”

Alex knew it very much was about the money, given that Elliot didn’t have any. He was sure Elliot would find someone to replace him soon enough, but he obviously couldn’t afford to simply free Alex, and he didn’t expect him to.

He’d rarely ever thought about his court sentence, but all these offers gave him hope. Was it possible that Charles had somehow come into a large sum of money? Elliot might not want to sell him, but if his financial situation worsened, he’d have no choice.

Now, it made less sense for him to risk everything by going after Tyler. He’d be better off waiting and seeing if Elliot sold him. There was, surely, a possibility that he might soon be free… and then he could decide what to do about Solange.