22. Chapter 22

22

A lfie arrived at the prison just in time to see Nate ducking into a vehicle. It wasn't the usual van they transported prisoners in; this car was discreet, not wanting to draw too much attention as it pulled up at the cemetery.

Mike climbed in after Nate with a scowl. His short stockiness and round face reminded Alfie of a bulldog.

Dave closed the car door, then turned to Alfie as he approached. "Thought we'd have to go without ya."

Alfie offered a weak smile. "That was the plan."

Dave tipped his head back and released a bark of laughter. His long hair floated in the wind, whipping into his mouth. He spluttered, cursed, then scraped his hair together with his fingers. "Heard you've been chucking it up for the last week."

Alfie grimaced. "Yeah, wasn't pleasant."

"Well, you're lucky you're not working in there. Someone put mackerel in the office microwave, and the whole place stinks."

Alfie placed his hand on his stomach and scrunched his face. "That is definitely something I don't want to think about."

"Don't go throwing up on that coat. Looks expensive."

Alfie made it halfway to the prison, then realised he was wearing the coat Nate had got him. It was too late to go back and change, and he'd be lying if he said it wasn't warm and comfortable to wear. Underneath was his prison officer uniform, shirt tucked in, tie fixed, and all buttons in their correct holes. He felt a mess internally, but he was determined not to show it.

Dave secured his hair in a bun, then flicked his chin out at the car. "Nate's been a handful all week, getting them banging the cells at night and shit stirring during the day. He's lucky Ryan's still letting him go. Grief drives a man crazy."

Alfie scratched the back of his head. "Don't think I'll be much help if he kicks off later."

Dave waved his hand. "We haven't forgotten that mean right hook of yours. Besides, he'll behave if you're here."

"Why do you say that?"

"I didn't, Henry did. He says Nate misbehaves when you're not there and calms down when you are."

"Henry's talking rubbish," Alfie muttered.

"We'll see. You're in the back with Mike, part of the bread to a Nate sandwich."

Alfie moved to the opposite side of the car and opened the door. Nate's expensive suit caught Alfie's eye, at a guess the same brand as the coat buttoned around himself. His facial hair had been trimmed, and he had swept his fringe back over his head. He stared straight ahead, seemingly oblivious to the open car door.

"Well, you getting in?" Mike grumbled.

Nate flashed a bored look in Alfie's direction, then did a double take. He stilled and widened his eyes. His mouth slacked, and he shook his head. "No, hell no!"

Alfie swallowed awkwardly and rocked back on his heels.

Nate's face twisted in anger, and he curled his top lip.

Alfie hated that look being attached to him. The memory of their night in the cell was still raw in his mind.

"Hey, calm it down," Mike said, gripping Nate's biceps.

All the times Alfie had seen him cuffed before, Nate's hands had been secured at his back, but in the car, they were handcuffed on his lap. His hands were curled into fists, so tight his knuckles looked like they would protrude from the skin.

Alfie gawped in horror, and another level of confusion was added to his spiralling mind. Nate had switched from expressing concern for his welfare to frothing at the mouth with anger at the sight of him.

"Back off, keep walking. You're not getting in the car."

His commanding voice was doused in threat, in warning in case Alfie was foolish enough to disobey him. Alfie's feet stuck to the concrete, and his hand glued itself to the door of the car.

Mike was growling words in Nate's ear, telling him to calm down, but Nate only had eyes for Alfie, and his mouth spat more words. "Not him. Anyone but him ."

Alfie took the aggressive words in his stride, but being told he wasn't wanted affected a deep part of him. The one person who had convinced him he cared was now growling him away.

"I don't want him here!"

Mike shook his head. "Not your choice."

Nate showed his gritted teeth and hissed, "You are not wanted here."

"That's enough!" Mike shouted, yanking hard on Nate's arm.

Dave climbed in the front, and the car jolted. He clipped his belt into position, then turned to face Alfie.

"Guess Henry does talk rubbish. Get in."

"No, stay out," Nate snapped. "Stay out if you know what's good for you."

There were red lines in the whites of his eyes, and his nose twitched erratically. It wasn't the Nate of a week ago, but the one in the file, the one Alfie had always been too scared to know. This version of Nate looked like he would kill and enjoy himself while he did it.

"Behave," Mike said firmly. "Otherwise we won't be going anywhere."

Nate fixed his gaze forward, but his body stayed tense, and he flared his nostrils as he breathed.

Alfie slid in beside him, wishing he could be anywhere but in a car with Nate. This wasn't the Nate that had panicked and shown concern.

This Nate blazed with anger.

In the space of a week, something had changed. Alfie had ignored his calls and avoided work to get his head together. It seemed in that week, Nate had also sorted his head out and decided he didn't want Alfie anymore.

"I don't want this screw next to me."

Alfie stared at the side of Nate's face, then dropped his gaze to his lap. In the ‘us and them', Nate had put him on the opposing side, separated them from each other. Alfie's gut tightened, and his eyes felt hot and stingy. He had taken too long stalling, too long thinking about what was right and wrong, and Nate had changed his mind.

"Erm, Alfie, door…" Dave said.

"Yeah, throw yourself through it, knock yourself out on the pavement," Nate sneered.

Alfie swallowed uncomfortably and shut the door.

"What the hell have you got against Alfie?" Mike asked. "Is it the humiliation of having him punch you?"

Nate rolled his shoulders, then cracked his neck left to right. "Two filthy screws are enough. I don't need a third. He should've got out of the car like I told him."

Mike laughed. "Prison officers don't do what the prisoners tell 'em."

Nate snorted and shook his head. "Bad things wouldn't happen if they did."

"Greenbrook cemetery, forty-minute drive," Dave said. "Nice little plot."

The car grumbled to life, and they were on the road, moving away from the prison. Nate continued his angry pants and tightened and released his hands.

Each time Alfie feared his skin would split.

His and Nate's shoulders were pressed together, and he could feel Nate shaking.

Alfie pushed himself as close to the door as he could, but he could still sense the rage rolling from Nate. His jaw shook, and Alfie imagined him crushing his teeth together, gritting them so hard they were in danger of breaking.

Dave took a sharp bend, and Alfie couldn't stop his knee knocking Nate's. His was shoved aside, and Nate huffed extra hard through his nose.

"Hope Dave's driving doesn't have you hurling," Mike mumbled.

"Nah, it's fine." Alfie wanted to speak clearly and with confidence, but it came out soft and shaky.

Mike leaned forward to see around Nate. "You still look a bit pale. You sure you're up for this?"

"Why not pull up and let him out," Nate growled.

"He doesn't want to get out," Mike muttered.

Nate turned his head, focus so intense it made Alfie feel like he was shrinking. "You want to get out of this car, don't you?"

His words were accompanied by a subtle nod, and Alfie frowned. A part of him wanted to get out. He suspected Mike and Dave would let him, but if whatever they were was over, if Nate had had his fill, fucked him and no longer desired him, then he needed to prove himself as an officer, not fold under a prisoner's wrath.

"I want to stay actually," Alfie said, challenging Nate with his stare.

The creases of anger vanished around Nate's eyes, and his lips parted.

"See," Mike said. "He wants the experience. We're teaching him how to handle a grieving prisoner on the day of a funeral."

"We are burying my Nana Doris's ashes," Nate spat. "This isn't a day trip for your inexperienced puppy. Pull up and let him out."

Mike raised his eyebrows, then sunk back into his seat. "Not happening, Nate."

Nate was wound up like a spring ready to explode, and Alfie had caused it. Nate had been fine before he opened the car, almost bored from his expression, but the second their eyes met, he changed into a caged beast.

Alfie watched his house whizz by, and the coffee shop Tia worked at. They were his safe places away from Nate, and they vanished in the distance like nothing. He had no barrier, no haven away from confusion. Dave drove them from the town, and the packed terrace houses made way for fields of green.

Dave took another sharp bend, but Alfie clutched the door to compensate. He wanted to limit the amount he and Nate touched.

"What the hell?" Dave muttered, slowing the car.

Orange cones were lined across the road, blocking them, and a huge blue sign pointed right for a diversion.

"I'm going to have to take it," Mike said. "We got time."

Dave spun the car to the right and shook his head. "What do you reckon, busted pipe?"

"More likely potholes. They're craters on these country roads."

Dave nodded. "Council really should sort them out."

Alfie closed his eyes at the droning conversation, and it was in those few seconds it happened.

The car lurched violently, and Alfie snapped his eyes open. They were spinning off the road.

The wheels screeched desperately to stay on the tarmac. Dave cursed, and Mike called out. Alfie saw the tree getting closer to him. He scrunched his face, anticipating pain, and it didn't disappoint. A sharpness shot down his right side. His shoulder throbbed; his hip sang with agony.

Alfie squeezed his eyes shut, hoping it would lessen the pain, but it only enhanced it. The piercing silence following the crash was drowned under an intense buzzing in his head. A buzzing that brought an onslaught of pain and confusion. He didn't know where he was, who he was with. All he could think and feel was pain. Red hot and angry, like someone was holding a scorching iron to his side and not letting him move away.

The voices around him were muffled, as if underwater, and the scent of petrol seeped into the air. Alfie didn't care for either. All he cared about was the burning iron, which was no longer just pressed to his skin but penetrating through and branding his bones. It pushed in, then lessened, then pushed in farther, not letting him recover or prepare for the next fierce flare. He couldn't breathe, the air was too thin, and his chest tightened, squeezing his lungs. He was going to die, and there was too much pain to panic about it. Hotter than lava, it wrapped around his bones, melting them to nothing.

There was pressure on his arm. He was being tugged. He wanted to beg whoever was pulling him not to, wanted to sob and plead, but they continued yanking him.

More voices, all different, more being pushed and pulled, and set down on something. The only consistent thing was the pain. It didn't lessen. It continued to rob him of breath and thought. Blood ran down the back of his throat. He could taste it, and he could feel it running from his nose, tacky on his lips.

"Alfie!"

Nate's voice broke through. Panicked again, not hating.

Alfie registered movement. He was vibrating. Something growled around him, tipping him left to right. He knew Nate was near him, hovering above, and tried to draw his scent in through his nose, but it was all blood and it burned.

"Hang in there, Alfie. You're going to be all right."

He latched on to his voice, trusting Nate to make him better.

"We've got to leave him."

Alfie didn't recognise the woman's voice, but he didn't want to be left. He hurt, and the only thing he could cling to in the darkness was Nate's voice. It was close, then far away, then close again, and so was his presence. It came in waves, and each time it left, the fire took over, and Alfie tried to beg for Nate to speak again. He didn't know whether he spoke or if his desire to hear Nate was locked deep in his head.

"I can't do that," Nate argued.

"He's messed up. He doesn't need you."

She was wrong, so wrong.

All he needed was Nate.

"I won't abandon him."

Paralysed in pain, Alfie cheered Nate on, prayed he would be able to convince the woman to take him with them.

"He's going to die."

Alfie knew it too, but he didn't want to die alone.

"This isn't part of the plan, Nate. He's not part of our agreement. You've got to leave him behind."

The awareness of Nate faded, and the voices didn't talk again.

Alfie felt cold, and still, and more terrifying than the pain, he felt alone.