24. Chapter 24

24

" T here's good news and bad news…"

Alfie looked at his lawyer, Gareth. He didn't say anything, just waited for whichever one he felt like sharing first.

Gareth sat down beside Alfie with a sigh. He removed his glasses and squeezed the bridge of his nose. Alfie had only known him a few hours but had already learned this was a sign of disappointment, of disbelief.

"They have the drawings, the notes, the text messages Nate sent before his calls, and the call logs themselves, traced to a mobile phone in Nate's neighbouring cell, 149. The most damning piece of evidence is the CCTV footage of you disappearing into Nate's cell for forty-five minutes, then redressing yourself on the landing outside." Gareth slotted his glasses back over his brown eyes and swept a hand over his thinning grey hair. "Of course, we could say you were na?ve, went inside fearing for Nate's safety after the death of the only family member still in contact with him, and that's where he forced you to have sex with him. That…could be supported by the voicemails he left on your phone."

When the police first interviewed him, Alfie had denied anything sexual had happened between him and Nate despite what the CCTV footage suggested.

The first time Alfie heard Nate's voicemail, his heart clenched and he scrunched his eyes shut.

Nate was concerned for him, worried, thinking Alfie was traumatised, thinking he regretted it and was in pain. Alfie wished he'd listened to the messages earlier, basked in Nate's concern one last time, but instead he was forced to listen in front of two police officers eyeing him with disgust.

"That…" Alfie looked behind himself to check no one was hovering at the window. They were in a box room at the police station, had been for hours while Gareth tried to piece together the evidence against Alfie and the probable charge they would hit him with.

"That wasn't what happened," Alfie said.

"For the purpose of shortening your sentence… could it be what happened?"

Alfie shook his head. "It wasn't rape. It wasn't forced."

Gareth nodded once. "Understood. What happened was…a young, infatuated prison officer got seduced by a violent criminal. You were fully under his spell, obsessed with him and the romantic gestures he made, so much so that you didn't report him and repeatedly broke rules to spend time with him."

Alfie hung his head.

"He was the aggressor, the pursuer, and you, unfortunately, fell for the charms of a psychopath."

"Nate isn't a psychopath—"

"Mr Bridges. I'm trying to make sure you get the shortest sentence possible, and that means you have to play your part of the na?ve love-struck teenager, and Mr Mathews has to play his part of the manipulative monster in a cage." He removed his glasses to press his thumb and finger into the top of his nose again. "They have enough evidence to charge you for misconduct and sexual contact, at the least, with a prisoner. As well as offences related to mobile phone communication between the two of you and the acceptance of gifts. There is no easy way to say it, but you're going to serve time for your relationship with Nate Mathews."

"How much?"

"That depends on a lot of things, but mostly whether the judge believes you were infatuated and used by Nate, and for that, your age, your childhood, your lack of life prospects, they can help explain your lapses in judgement."

"How long?" Alfie repeated, softer than before.

"Two years would be a good result."

"Two years?" Alfie gasped.

"I said that would be a good result; you're looking at between two to five years."

Alfie shook. He hid his hands beneath the table.

"This is the bad news," Gareth said.

He put his glasses back on.

"The good news is there's nothing that links you to Nate's escape. There's no indication of evidence that suggests you were aiding Nate that day, and it appears to be a coincidence you were in the car when it was run off the road." Gareth glanced Alfie's way. "If there had been any evidence, and if they find any in the future, you'll be looking at ten years behind bars, at least."

"I didn't know it was going to happen."

Gareth nodded. "My advice to you when they charge you over your inappropriate relationship with Nate is not to protest it. The sooner we can start the love-struck narrative, the better. You were infatuated with Nate, and he used you."

Alfie bit his lip. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Did he use me?" His ribs throbbed. "I need to get the story straight about the manipulative monster in the cage."

"He used you for cheap thrills. For sex. That's all it was for him. It meant nothing."

"Understood," Alfie whispered.

His heart ached.

Alfie didn't protest the charges. He admitted fault and was granted bail under certain conditions. He wasn't to contact any of his colleagues at Larkwood. He had to stay at his address and give up his passport. He nodded along, but nothing sunk in until he was back at his house, curtains drawn and lights off.

He was going to prison.

A fist thumped against his door.

He didn't answer.

Keys jangled; the door flew open.

Tia announced her presence with a huff. Her figure was a silhouette against the backdrop of daytime outside.

She rushed to open the curtains. Alfie lowered his gaze to avoid the sign for Larkwood.

"So…what did they say?"

"They charged me for gross misconduct, for a sexual relationship with a prisoner."

"It's ridiculous." She stood with her hands on her hips. "I hope you told them where to shove the charges against you."

"I accepted them."

"What?"

"They're…they're true."

She shook her head. "There's no way you would have."

Alfie bowed forward and gripped his head with both hands. "Tia. I did ."

"Wait…the guy from work, the one you were cagey about. The one you fucked in a cell."

Alfie flinched.

"That was him, wasn't it? You were talking about a prisoner."

"It just happened. I wasn't—"

"You had sex with Nate Mathews! He's all over the news. What he did to those men, his own father, it's sick, and you slept with him." She dropped down on the sofa and gripped Alfie's knee. "Wait, wait. He didn't force you, did he?"

"No, it wasn't forced."

She snatched her hand back. "Then I don't understand. He's a murderer, a deranged killer, and you had sex with him."

"I know, okay? I was stupid…but he was never like that, there was no hint."

She widened her eyes, and her pupils retracted to mere flecks. "You're kidding me, right?"

"No, he…he wasn't the monster you think he is."

Tia tugged her phone from her jeans. She tapped her fingers at the screen, typing as she breathed heavily from her nose.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm googling him."

Alfie widened his eyes. "What? Why?"

"Here we are," she said. "Over the course of twenty-four hours, Nate tortured his victims. He pulled their teeth out with plyers, took their nails off with a chisel. He tied them down to chairs in the dining room, mutilated them, then when he was done having his fun, he slit their throats."

"Tia…" Alfie turned away.

"When arrested and questioned by police why he tortured and murdered his father and his father's friends, Anthony Horris and Jenson Tipper, he responded he killed them because he felt like it, because he liked the sound of them begging for mercy."

"He had his reasons."

Tia smirked. "Oh yeah, what did he tell you?"

"They hurt someone he cared about."

"Of course he told you that, he told you that to get in your pants, Alfie, and you…you believed him."

"Yeah, I believe him."

"Is there any proof they hurt this person ?"

He lowered his head and stared at his lap. "He…he looked out for me."

"That's a no then." Tia snorted. "Just his words, that he wrapped you up in with ease. He's a monster. Can you not see he's used you? He seduced you, then left."

"He tried to take me—"

"I can't believe I'm hearing this. He tried to take you, but it was too difficult, and he dumped you in the road to die."

Alfie bit the side of his cheek and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Where is he now? If he cared about you, where is he?"

"I…I don't know."

"You could go to prison."

"I am going to prison. An ex-prison officer locked up; the prisoners will hate me, and so will the officers. I might get two years if I'm lucky, but that's plenty of time for them to do damage. I know I'm stupid, Tia. I know I fucked up and made a mistake, but it's happened. I can't go back."

"Knowing what he did, why would you even go there? Why would you even talk to him?"

Alfie sighed through his nose. "I knew he was in there for murder, and I knew what he'd done must've been bad, but I never read the details. I didn't want to."

Tia's eyes bored into the side of his face, and when he turned to her, she wore an expression of disappointment. The look a mother would give her na?ve child. "You didn't read what he did?"

"No, I didn't want to…hate him."

"Alfie…he pulled his dad's intestines out while he was still alive."

The churning in Alfie's gut intensified, and he bolted off the sofa, jarring his groin as he went. He staggered to the sink and threw up the contents of his unfed stomach.

Each heave ached his ribs and burned his throat.

Tia watched him from the sofa with no sympathy.

"All this time, you said you never wanted to rely on someone, and you gave in to a violent murderer who tortured three guys. He manipulated you, used you for fun, and then left you to die."

Alfie thrust his head in the sink and threw up again, clutching his sides as fire spluttered out of him.

"How do you know you weren't part of it too?"

He spun on the tap. "Part of?"

"His plan…except you were the back-up."

Back-up plan.

Alfie put his head under the spray from the tap. It hid the tears creeping from his eyes.

The weeks that followed went by in a blur. He was numb and didn't allow his mind to linger. If Nate tried to sneak into his thoughts, he shoved him away.

His ribs stopped aching, and he could walk without crutches, although if he moved too fast, his leg gave out and he dropped to the ground. Not just Nate's name was splashed all over the paper, but his too when he appeared at the magistrate's court. He pleaded guilty and was bailed again until sentencing.

He didn't leave the house, and when he ordered groceries, the drivers wrinkled their noses and curled their lips.

Tia stopped visiting and distanced herself from the situation. Alfie didn't blame her, and he didn't fight for their friendship. The press hounded her, and she had her own life that shouldn't be soiled by him and his choices.

The last time they spoke, she said she'd see him when he got out.

When he got out.

Nate dragging him from the car had been the perfect distraction, according to Gareth. Alfie acted as the fall-guy to Nate's plan. The police spent time and resources trying to link the escape to Alfie and gifted Nate with the perfect window of opportunity to vanish overseas.

Someone had to pay for the escape, and the only person left was Alfie.

There had been sightings of Nate from members of the public in France and Portugal, but he hadn't been caught.

Alfie's body healed, but he was an empty shell. The numbness persisted, and he welcomed feeling nothing.

The alternative was breaking down, dropping to his knees, and screaming.

The day before his sentence was his nineteenth birthday. He snorted bitterly after his third swig of whisky. No longer a freshman. He doubted many real freshmen spent their second year banged up in prison.

It was going to be the worst year of his life, and he was to blame.

If he had read Nate's file, if he'd shuddered and grown nauseous at the mention of his name like everyone else, he wouldn't have got himself into that situation. Nate had told him the men he killed deserved it; he'd told him they'd hurt his sister, but there was no proof.

Alfie had believed him because he wanted to believe him.

Gareth had told him the sentencing would be done quickly by the judge. He grinned warmly and rubbed Alfie on the back, like it was good news.

The next day Alfie dressed smartly—black trousers, white shirt and black tie. He did all his buttons, tucked in his shirt, and fixed his tie into position. If they were to draw his sketch for the press, he at least wanted to look smart.

Gareth smiled at him and gripped his shoulder.

Alfie stared into his brown eyes, but they brought him no comfort.

"At least it'll be over today."

Alfie didn't know what he meant. The wait, his life, the world.

He wasn't sure and bowed his head.

"I think she'll be lenient. Considering your age and troubled childhood. You admitted fault as soon as Nate escaped."

"I'll still get time, though."

Gareth made a noise of confirmation. "It could be as little as two years, and you might only have to serve half in prison."

That still meant a year of being targeted by staff and prisoners. Alfie's gut clenched, and he forced the thoughts from his mind.

Numb, he needed to stay numb, or he wouldn't be able to cope.

He stood straight in the dock, lifted his chin, and stared fixedly at the stern woman wearing the wig.

The judge mentioned his young age, and his childhood in care, but she wanted his sentence to serve as a warning.

Three years.

By the time he was done, he wouldn't be a freshman or a second-year but a graduate of stupidity.

A laugh bubbled in his throat.

It gained momentum and savageness. He tipped his head back and stared at the high ceiling.

"I hate you," he said.

There was no reply, no voice telling him he didn't. He scrunched his face, wrinkled his nose and bared his teeth. "I hate you!"

The judge said something and Gareth did too, but he ignored their voices.

He only wanted one to answer him.

The past months finally caught up with him, and the emotions he'd repressed to get by tore into him. His eyes burned and dropped fat tears onto his cheeks.

His nose ran, his lip quivered and his chest hitched.

"I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"

His knees weakened, his chest hurt from yelling, and his throat grew hoarse. Two policemen manhandled him as he yelled at the ceiling, and his wrists were cuffed in front of him. He dug his heels into the floor as they dragged him down a narrow corridor that led under the court.

He spluttered and sobbed, and when they shoved him into a holding cell, he collapsed, emotions so raw he could only lie on his side like a stricken animal and whimper to be put out of his misery.

Stupid, stupid, stupid freshman.