19. Chapter 19

19

A lfie spent his afternoons with his phone on his chest, waiting for Nate's call. It wasn't every day, but Nate texted in advance so he'd be ready. Alfie told himself it was more acceptable than opening the hatch, that he and Nate weren't being physical.

It was wrong.

It shouldn't have been happening.

But it was not the biggest breach Alfie had made.

And that, in his lust-driven brain, made it all right.

"Freshman," Nate said in his ear, and Alfie shivered, dropping his head back to the pillow. He didn't know what phone Nate had, but it wasn't capable of video calling. It was always Nate's voice as they got caught up in sexual fantasies.

Alfie's favourite was Nate between his legs, between his cheeks, sucking and nibbling. When he'd admitted he'd never experienced someone pleasuring him that way, Nate had released a long-suffering groan down the phone and replied he'd eat Alfie's arse out for days. It wasn't just the act they excited each other with, it was the location, the atmosphere.

And the one Alfie returned to again and again was the snow-covered cabin in the wilderness. It would be quiet, all except the crackle of the wood fire, and Alfie would be naked, spread beneath Nate on some fur rug.

Alfie would be folded, legs pinned and exposed, while Nate used his tongue and teeth on his hole.

Nate loved the fantasy too, but he added his own unique quirks to it. Alfie would have his wrists bound with rope, and he wouldn't be on his back, he'd be on his front with his knees beneath him. Nate would push down on the top of Alfie's back, tipping him forward, exposing him for his eager mouth. He wouldn't stop until Alfie was ready for his cock, then sink it in, making Alfie explode over the rug.

"Fuck," Alfie groaned.

"You like that, Freshman?"

Nate's commanding voice triggered Alfie's orgasm, and just the whispered word Freshman was enough to get him hard again.

In the post-orgasm glow, Nate added another layer of domesticity to the fantasy. He told Alfie he'd run him a bath and clean him. He said he'd feed him from his fingers and let Alfie sprawl over his lap while they watched TV. They'd go for walks in the woods, and hire snowmobiles, and make snow angels.

Nate's voice calmed him after orgasm, and no doubt or shame had time to surface.

Alfie didn't panic and hang up like the first time. He let the images Nate created seep into his mind, closed his eyes, and lived them a little.

They didn't just talk about sex. Nate would ask what Alfie was watching on TV, or what music he liked, or what kind of clothes he wore outside of work. He asked about Alfie growing up in care and didn't patronise or mock. When Alfie asked Nate questions about his childhood, he shut down. Nate's voice grew colder, and he hung up the phone. He didn't want to be known by Alfie, and it stung like a rejection.

There was a knock at the front door, and Alfie removed his phone from his chest and peeked through the curtains. Not the green delivery van or the red pizza scooter. The man standing on the doorstep was dressed in a black parka and well-fitted trousers. His hair was perfectly tousled, and his lips were bunched in a pout. The man cradled a package to his chest, one that Alfie hadn't bought.

Alfie opened the door and shot the man a smile. "Hi…"

"For you."

Alfie took the package, frowning at the clothing label. Martin Sheer . He wouldn't even walk into their shop in case they looked at his scruffy appearance and shooed him out.

The man forced a cough and held his phone out for Alfie to sign.

Alfie took the gift into the living room and shredded the tough plastic. He lifted the charcoal coat and widened his eyes when he registered the weight. It was thick and lined, and when he slipped it on, it fit him perfectly. The gold buttons on the cuff gleamed, and the stitching was exact.

Alfie slipped his hand inside the pocket and pulled out a yellow post-it.

Wrap up tight, Freshman

Alfie breathed in the scent of expense and relished in the warm glow of someone caring about him. They had spoken about the drop in temperature, and Nate had been interested in what Alfie wore to combat the chill. He had assumed it was some horny fantasy for Nate. The idea of unwrapping layers to get to Alfie's skin, but the reality was he was worried that Alfie's paper-thin coat wouldn't be enough to keep him comfortable.

Alfie collapsed onto the sofa, flashing a look at the clock. It was two, another hour until Nate was due to call.

Alfie wrapped the coat around his back and lay on the sofa with his phone on his chest.

"Do you like it?" Nate asked when he called later on.

Alfie hadn't taken it off. He was sweating but didn't care. "Yeah, course I do, but you can't keep sending stuff to my door."

"So, you didn't like the pizza and garlic bread I sent last weekend?"

"You know I d—"

"What about the aftershave, a bottle of the one I use?"

Alfie flushed scarlet. He'd baulked at the post-it note on the aftershave. Nate wanted him to use it so he smelled like he belonged to him. Alfie didn't wear aftershave and sprayed it on his pillow instead. He had been embarrassed by his own sentiment, but the fumes of Nate lured him to sleep, and each time he woke, he smiled at the scent before he'd even opened his eyes.

"It's not that I don't—"

"Or those new shoes. They don't squeak as you walk now."

Alfie squeezed the bridge of his nose. "The gifts, they're amazing, okay? But you can't send them anymore."

"Why not?"

"You'll get caught, and we'll both get in the shit."

Nate snorted. "Give me some credit."

"Besides, how are you even paying for it?"

"I have money."

"How?"

"Before I…just before … I founded a software company. It made me a lot of money, and I hid some here and there in accounts under different names."

"So you were a criminal before you…before?"

Nate hummed. "Tax avoidance mostly. You're benefitting from it. Does the coat fit okay?"

"Yeah, it fits fine."

"Are you wearing it?"

Alfie nodded. "Maybe."

"Well, you've got to take it off. Don't want it to get dirty."

Alfie snorted and laid the phone on the sofa as he shuffled from the coat. He picked up the phone and raised his eyebrow. "Done."

"Hmm, not yet. Lay down, Freshman. Let me take care of you."

Nate took charge of the fantasy that day. He wanted Alfie tied up and his hands bound so he could run his hands over every accessible millimetre of skin. He wanted Alfie to beg and encouraged him to do so down the phone. Most days Alfie could.

But ugly thoughts invaded his head.

He wondered whether Nate bound his victims before he killed them, whether he made them beg for their lives. His erection softened, and he stopped moving his stroking hand.

He shuddered, then swallowed awkwardly.

Nate must've heard the noise and stopped voicing his fantasy.

"You okay?"

"Why did you kill those men?"

There was a harsh intake of breath on the other end of the phone. "Way to kill the mood, Freshman."

"I just—I don't want to know how, but why. There's got to be a reason."

There was no answer, and Alfie pulled the phone from his ear to make sure they were still connected.

"I want to trust you," Alfie whispered.

"You can."

"How do I know that after you have sex with me on the beach, you won't drown me in the sea? How do I know after having me in front of the fire, you won't burn me in the flames?"

"Woah, stop it."

Alfie shook his head. "How do I know you won't slit my throat after tying me up and making me beg?"

Nate sighed. It didn't sound impatient, more of a sad exhale of air. "I'd never hurt you."

Alfie squeezed his stinging eyes shut. "But how do I know you didn't say that to them before you killed them?"

"Those men I killed deserved it."

"But why?"

There was another long silence, and Alfie rubbed the heel of his hand on his eyes. They were closed, but moisture still escaped and clung to his lashes.

The phone hissed with Nate's exhale. "I'm not doing this."

"Don't hang up!"

Nate growled, and the hairs on Alfie's neck shot up. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"Please, you're tearing me apart. This situation is tearing me apart. I need to know you're not a monster, that you're not evil. There has to be a reason."

"Have I done anything to you that makes you think I'm evil?"

"Not to me, but that file. What you did to those men, your own dad. I don't know specifics, but I know it was bad."

"Yes, it was bad, what I did, but they deserved it. They hurt someone. They did unforgivable things to that person."

"Who?"

Alfie could hear Nate's heavy breathing, imagined his nostrils were flaring with each forceful exhale.

"My little sister," he growled. "I didn't know what they were doing to her. They were clever, convinced her no one would believe her. When I found out, I wanted them dead. I wanted them to pay for what they did to her, and I wanted to give her closure. I wanted her to feel safe, and I wanted her to know they suffered. And they did suffer."

"Everyone thinks you did it for no reason, that you're a monster. If there's a reason, then why not—"

"That is not my story to tell," Nate snapped. "It's hers, and she doesn't want people to know. She's happy now. She has a family. A husband, a kid. She didn't ask me to do what I did…and maybe I try to convince myself I did it for her, but in reality I made it about me."

"What do you mean?"

"I let her down. I didn't know what those animals were doing to her, and when I found out, I had to destroy them. It was all I could do. She doesn't want anything to do with me because that was my reaction to finding out, not rushing to her side but slaughtering the people who abused her. The only friendly face I see is my nana who doesn't even know who I am, but it's what I deserve for letting my sister down twice ."

"What happened to her wasn't you—"

"Don't," Nate said with warning. "I might not be the monster people think I am, but I still am one. I accepted that I'd be locked up in Larkwood for the rest of my life, and I'd been there five years, had…become acclimatised. I forgot what it was like to want anything, to feel anything, but then I saw you, and I thought, I should be in a place like this, but you shouldn't. You have your life ahead of you, and you're wasting it with scumbags."

Alfie frowned. "It's a job. I needed one, and it was right there."

"Where do you see yourself in five years' time?"

"I don't know," Alfie admitted.

"What did you like at school? What did you dream of being one day?"

"Dreams are for people who can afford them. I don't have anything. In five years, ten years, I still won't. This…" Alfie glanced around his barren living room. "It's survival. I needed a job, I got one. I needed a house to rent, I've got one. I need food in my fridge and in my cupboards, I've got some. That's it. I don't have any dreams."

"You have no idea how much I want to give them to you. You deserve—"

"I don't deserve shit. I'm a nobody."

"You're my Freshman. The cute officer with the big green eyes. The shy smile and the blushing cheeks. The guy who flirts with a murderer and goes above and beyond to save a prisoner's life. The one who doesn't even realise what he craves, what he needs to feel good. Who doesn't even know how to dream because it's never been a luxury he possessed. I want to take care of you, in every way you want to be taken care of, I mean that."

Alfie breathed out in a rush. They were traitorous buzzwords his heart longed for.

"I want you to be mine."

Alfie gasped at Nate's words. They made his stomach flip and his heart tighten. For his eighteen-year existence, those were the words he'd always wanted to hear, from anyone. Someone valuing him over someone else, someone picking him from the crowd, claiming him, not as a consolation but as the main prize.

Deny as he might, he just wanted to be wanted.

"I know you're freaked out, but I'm freaked out too. I'm the one locked up, and at any moment I could lose you. Part of me wants to scare you away. I don't want you to waste your life on me, but the other part, the more dominant part, wants to bind you to me forever. All I have in here is time, and I use it thinking of you. I've lived lives with you in my head. These fantasies we talk about aren't fantasies to me. They're promises for when I get out. They're futures."

"You're not getting out for a long time," Alfie croaked. "If ever."

"I've got a plan, Freshman."

Alfie widened his eyes in horror. "What?"

"You don't need to worry—"

"You're planning an escape?"

Nate didn't answer at first. He left a chasm of a pause that Alfie hyperventilated through.

"And if I was, if I had some plan for the future, would you run to the prison and tell them, or would you let me escape?"

"I should report it."

Nate hummed. "Should, but you won't. I want you, Freshman, and you want me too, and I don't know when the day will come, but it will."

The phone cut out, and Alfie stared at the black screen. It reflected his panicked eyes and his open mouth. Nate was planning an escape, had admitted it, and that left Alfie with a huge dilemma.

The ‘us and them', but he didn't know whose side he was on.