The next phase of his life had begun.
His first meeting with Jack the following day was a whole new test. The man pushed him far harder than E had, and he struggled to keep up, but made no complaints. At the end of the session, he was exhausted. He bent over, clutching his knees, panting heavily, while Jack wrote up the session on his holopad.
“You’re barely performing as well as when you left here. I don’t know what the fuck you’ve been doing for the past eight months,” the dour PT said.
“This was quite a step up from my previous programme,” Alex explained, between heaving breaths. God, how he wanted to lash out at the surly bastard.
“Good. You haven’t been pushed hard enough.”
“I was in poor shape when I arrived at Belvedere. It took some months to regain condition, so that’s why it looks as if I haven’t improved.”
“Well, you’ll start improving from today.” Jack glared at him. “I’ll see to that.”
“Would it be possible to have a playlist? It helps when I work out – it gives me a rhythm,” he requested in a neutral tone.
“I’ll think about it,” Jack replied, as if he had asked for something difficult, and not something that could be arranged within seconds with a few orders to the room’s smartwall.
“Thank you. That’s very kind of you,” Alex said demurely, standing up and reaching for his towel to dry off.
Jack grunted. “Oh, and by the way – the yoga? The answer’s no,” he said firmly. “You’ll do my workouts my way. If you want to do yoga, you can do it in your own time.” He sneered the wordyogaas if it was poison.
“I understand. It was just a thought.” Alex gave a politely disinterested smile, fighting down a wave of pure fury. It would mean nothing to this man to be more amenable, but perhaps he’d been given orders not to give him anything he showed an interest in wanting. Throwing his towel over his head, he pretended to dry his sweaty hair, but it was only to stop the smartwall picking up on his expression. God, this was hard. Despite all Gideon’s training, he still couldn’t bear to be bullied without retaliating. It went against all his instincts. He spent some time towel-drying his hair, and by the time he was done, he was able to head to the shower with his mask firmly back in place.
He was given a few days to settle in, and then Andrew appeared one morning, clutching a holopad. His heart lurched, but he kept his expression politely neutral.
“We have a guest tonight,” Andrew proclaimed. “I have her details here.”
“Can I look at the file?”
“Of course, but you already know her. Her name is Rebecca Lang. You were due to entertain her once before, but I understand that circumstances intervened.”
Rebecca Lang.The woman he’d been due to “entertain” at the conference last year on the night of his escape.Shit.It took all his recent training not to react. Andrew brought up her file, and a picture of her plump, smiling face immediately popped up in mid-air.
Alex almost laughed.Of courseit was Rebecca Lang. Who else could it have been? This was textbook Tyler. The message was obvious – the same message Tyler had been drumming into him since his return:You can’t escape, you will complete every task I give you, or I’ll keep giving them to you over and over again until you do.
He read her file studiously, bringing himself up to date with the details. She worked in the government department responsible for floating cities. Given Tyler’s investment in that particular technology, Alex had no doubt it was her usefulness to his houder which made her a blackmail target. He felt wretched for a second, but then remembered his baselines: no killing, no hurting, and no rape. Anything he did tonight was on Tyler, not him. Poor Rebecca, and yet… Alex had given her fair warning at the conference last year. If she chose to walk headfirst into this trap, then it was on her.
“I thought this outfit would be appropriate.” Andrew showed him a dark suit, teamed with a black shirt and scarlet tie.
“No.” Alex shook his head. “Too stark, too sharp. She likes romance novels; she wants to be swept off her feet.”
“Ooh, you’re good at this,” Andrew exclaimed.
He wondered if his choice of outfit had been a test to see if he was just playing along or was actually participating. Or maybe he was overthinking this.
“How about these?” he suggested instead, pulling out a pair of navy-blue chinos and a lightly patterned shirt in cerise and white.
“Smart but unthreatening – I like it,” Andrew said approvingly.
Alex also took the lead in arranging the suite for Rebecca’s visit. Soft lamps in the corners, flickering candles on the table, and romantic music playing in the background set the scene perfectly. He went through the choice of food and drink with Frances, opting for champagne and a dessert he could hold to Rebecca’s lips – a tasty shortbread dipped in a rich chocolate mousse – with little sugary sweets as after-dinner treats. Frances was as impressed as Andrew had been; he hoped that the watching Tyler was impressed, too.
Much to his relief, Marta wasn’t part of the evening’s activities. She would be dining out, presumably with another of Tyler’s guests. He wondered if Tyler himself would show up but then squashed that thought down. If he did, he did. Regardless, he would do his job to the best of his abilities.
“One last thing,” he said to Andrew as he surveyed himself in the mirror. Andrew had styled him to exude a certain boyish charm, clean-shaven, his hair scrunched into loose curls that hung around his face. “Lorenzo always made sure I had a supply of pills to enable me to perform. I trust you have them, too? Much as I’d like to guarantee success, that body part might not always oblige. Pills are necessary, just in case.”
Andrew gave another of those startled blushes. “Of course,” he said smoothly, disappearing for a few minutes and returning with a bag of the blue pills. Alex had had no sexual desire for months, but he’d forced himself into a perfunctory masturbatory regime at Belvedere just to ensure everything still worked as it should, and as would be required upon his return. Now the moment was upon him, he hoped that it wouldn’t let him down. The best outward performance in the world was of no use if his body betrayed his true feelings.
He squashed down any nerves before Rebecca arrived, sitting serenely on the sofa, listening to the music. This wasn’t his choice – he had to keep reminding himself of that. He had no emotional investment in it beyond convincing Tyler that he was a reformed character who would give him no trouble.
