Chapter Sixteen

 

“Freshman?”

Alfie’s eyelids were too heavy to open, but he heard the panicked voice and felt patches of pins and needles on his face. The rest of him felt warm and light, and he didn’t what to know what the danger was.

“You need to wake up.”

He felt sated and safe, and he wasn’t moving for anyone. The patches of his face fizzled with heat, and he realized hands cupped his cheeks, spreading warmth and getting firmer in their touch. Alfie struggled to open his eyes, and when he did, Nate’s all-consuming blues ones blared back. No longer blown black with lust, or crinkled at the edges with smugness. They were wide and concerned.

“You’ve got to get out.”

Alfie stopped his smile from forming and drew his eyebrows together. Nate’s words stung, worse than stung, they split his head and his heart open. The rejection, he should’ve known it was coming, but it hurt worse than ever before. All jagged and slicing, it was difficult to accept. He choked at the sudden tightness to his throat and struggled free of Nate’s hands.

Nate growled and scrunched his face with pain. “Don’t look at me like that. I don’t want you upset, but they’re asking for you.”

Alfie didn’t know who they were, and he turned in the direction Nate flicked his chin.

On the floor was his clothes. Black trousers, black shoes, black tie, and white shirt with his officer number. He was on Nate’s bed, inside his cell. The realness of the situation hit Alfie, and he gulped for air.

Nate rubbed his arm, but he didn’t feel it. The shirt on the floor hissed angrily. Henry was demanding he answer his radio, and by the sound of his pissed voice he had been asking for a while.

Alfie swung his legs from the bed, only to stumble at their weakness. His body wasn’t cooperating, and his brain whirled and spun.

Nate stood, still completely naked and clutched his hair while shaking his head. “Shit,” he murmured. “I’m sorry.”

Alfie ignored him, bundled his uniform into his arms, and staggered out of the cell. The door was still open, and he swung it shut on Nate’s worried face.

He grabbed the radio but gulped for breath a few times before answering. “Yes, Henry. I’m here.”

“Where the hell have you been?”

Alfie blinked. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before he could speak. “I went to check on Nate.”

“How long does it take?”

“I heard a noise, leaking pipe, was trying to work out where the dripping was coming from.”

Henry growled. “You’re not a god-damn plumber. Just put it in the night log and maintenance will check it out.”

Alfie nodded. “Okay, on my way back.”

He released the button and searched the pile of clothing for his boxers. His hands were frantic, and he couldn’t breathe calmly. He forced air through his lips, but it seemed thinner, not enough to satisfy his spasming diaphragm.

“Freshman, just breathe.”

Alfie jolted away from Nate’s door and retreated to Queenie’s to get his clothes on. He buckled his belt too tight, slipped the buttons of his shirt in the wrong holes and he couldn’t fix his tie with his hands trembling so much. His flesh stuck to his clothes, a cool sweat that made him shudder. He felt too hot, and too cold, and itchy all over. Then a dull ache grew where Nate’s cock had been. Each slight movement he felt it. Not just a lingering pressure, but a wetness from Nate’s orgasm.

He had slept with Nate, just like he wanted, but he had jumped over an unforgivable line.

“Talk to me,” Nate mumbled.

Alfie shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut. “Just shut up. Shut up.”

He heard the bed creak in Queenie’s cell. “What’s going on, Nate?”

“Not now, Queenie!”

Alfie clutched at his throat, the traitorous throat he surrendered so easily. It felt tight, like the universe was throttling him for giving into desire. He sunk down against Queeine’s door, rasping for breath.

“Freshman!”

He covered his ears at Nate’s shout and curled into the edge of the door. He was shaking, and the hatch rattled. His heart pounded so hard it shook his chest, and the collar of his shirt tightened like a coiling snake.

“Breathe nice and slow.”

The words got through the cracks of his fingers, not Nate’s but Queenie’s softer tone. With everything sharp and edgy, it was Queenie’s smooth voice that filled in the cracks.

“Relax, Alfie. It’s a panic attack.”

The words panic and attack didn’t help him relax. He rubbed the back of his head to the cell, heaving for air that didn’t satisfy him.

“Breathe nice and slow, in and out. With me.”

Alfie lowered his hands and listened to Queenie breathe. Nate was no longer shouting, and there was no sound from his cell.

All Alfie could hear was Queenie. The presence by the door wasn’t confusing and suffocating. Queenie had a lightness, had a friendliness that Nate didn’t possess. He remembered Queenie’s smile from the corridor. He had lifted his red lips in genuine happiness at seeing him.

“That’s it, Alfie. Let’s get you back to normal again.”

He nodded, braced his hands on the floor, and got to his feet. He swayed slightly and gripped the rail. He wanted to thank Queenie but thought the sound of his wrecked voice would set him off again.

Alfie stared down at his feet as he forced one to move then the other. His hand was so tight on the railing his flesh turned stark white, and his movements were slow and stilted.

Henry waited for him at the gate with his arms crossed, but when he came out of the shadows and into the lobby lights, Henry’s mouth dropped in shock.

“What the hell happened?”

Alfie flicked his head back, but it felt stiff as he moved. “I feel like shit.”

“You look like shit,” Henry said.

Glen appeared from the office, shaking his head. “Jesus, Alfie, you don’t look good…”

Marie followed behind him, fringe messy and lipstick smudged. “You been sick?”

Alfie clutched at the idea and nodded. “Yeah, by the cells.”

“Why didn’t you just say that instead of spewing rubbish about the pipes.”

Alfie shrugged. “Thought I’d keep it secret.”

Henry’s face tightened in disgust. “Nice, guess I’ll have to clear it up.”

Alfie shook his head. “It’s sorted, not much. I went back in there to apologize.”

Glen snorted. “Apologize?”

“I woke Queenie up. Asked for tissue through the hatch.”

Henry frowned. “You shouldn’t do that, but at least you asked Queenie, not Nate. Who knows what he would’ve done.”

Marie stepped forward and pressed her palm to his head. “You do feel sweaty.”

Henry sighed. “Go home. Can’t have you here vomiting everywhere.”

Alfie didn’t argue. He rushed past with his body stooped over and his arms hugging his stomach. He felt the eyes of his colleagues boring into him. He wondered if they had worked out his lie and were muttering in his wake.

Once he was home, he cleaned himself in the shower. The water was scalding hot, and he washed every touch, every kiss and lingering scent of Nate off his body. He was careful with the sorest part as he swept the flannel over to clean away any mess.

Afterward, Alfie collapsed onto the sofa and hugged his arms around his shivering body. It was dark outside, but the curtains were still partially drawn, and he could see the sign for Larkwood. He snapped his gaze away but balked at the penis candle on the mantelpiece. Too weak to stand, he rolled to face the back of the sofa and closed his eyes.

****

He called in sick the next day, said he had a fever and was non-stop vomiting. Ryan heard the croak in his voice and gave him the week off. They didn’t want the prisoners coming down with a vomiting virus.

Nate called him each night, and he stared at his name flashing on the phone but didn’t answer. He couldn’t bring himself to listen to the voicemails either. His brain was still spinning from the suddenness of everything. He was so wrapped up in Nate, in the moment, and then reality slapped him around the face. He didn’t even have time to recover before he was thrust in front of his colleagues and forced to lie to save his skin. He was a prison officer and had just slept with the most notorious criminal in Larkwood.

It got to Friday, and the crushing feeling didn’t lessen. He ignored the knock to the door from the pizza guy and crushed his head under a cushion.

Tia didn’t understand he wanted to be left alone. Despite him ignoring her calls and her angry banging on the door, she strode in twirling a key on her finger.

“Knew I shouldn’t have given that to you.”

She clutched the key in her fist. “It’s for emergencies, and it must be an emergency if you couldn’t get up for these.”

Alfie peeked up from the cushion and eyed the soggy pizza boxes balanced on her forearm. “Didn’t hear him.”

Tia narrowed her eyes. “How’d you know it was a him?” She moved into the room and dropped the boxes on the coffee table, then went to hang up her coat. She paused when she spotted the expensive one from Nate.

“You suddenly developed fashion sense?” she said, raising an eyebrow.

Alfie shook his head. “I didn’t buy it.”

“Tut tut, sure hope you didn’t steal it, Mr. Prison Officer.”

Alfie squeezed his eyes shut and breathed out heavily through his nose. When he opened his eyes, Tia was staring at him with her lips in a pout.

“Just as I thought, I’ll put the kettle on.”

“What’s just as you thought?” Alfie asked.

Tia ignored him and went about making them coffee. A few minutes later, the rich scent invaded Alfie’s nose and chased away any phantom fragrance of Nate.

Tia placed the coffees on the table, then sat down heavily on Alfie’s legs.

“Ouch!”

She winked and flicked her platinum hair. “Move then.”

Alfie shuffled up begrudgingly and hugged his knees to his chest.

“So the guy from work bought you that, huh?”

Alfie stared across the room at the coat, the nodded with a sigh.

“To keep you sweet? He married? In the closet?”

Alfie shook his head. “I don’t think he’s married—”

“Think? So, you don’t know if he’s married, been married, to a man or a woman…”

“He’s never said.”

There was nothing about marriage in the part of Nate’s file he had read, but he didn’t know what secrets page two held.

“You’re not ill, are you?” Tia said, attaching her pale blue eyes to his.

He immediately looked away. “Well I feel like shit.”

“But not from a virus. Love sickness.”

Alfie scrunched his face and reached for his coffee.

It burned his lip as he took a sip, and Tia frowned then took the cup gently from his hand and returned it to the table.

“Tell me what happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Is that why you’re upset? The guy you like isn’t interested.”

Alfie wrung his hands together. “We-we slept together.”

Tia’s eyes bulged. “What? Was it that bad?”

“No, it wasn’t bad.”

Her eyes hardened. “He had you and then he lost interest—”

“No, it just shouldn’t have happened. It can’t happen.”

Tia sighed slowly and lifted her lips in a smile. “Live a little. You’re eighteen. You’re expected to break the rules. What does he say about it?”

Alfie shrugged. “I’ve been ignoring his calls.”

“Well don’t. Talk to him, figure it out. If it’s putting your job in jeopardy, it must be putting his on the line too.”

“It’s not,” Alfie muttered.

Tia frowned, and then nodded like she worked it out. “He’s higher up the ladder than you. If all goes wrong, you’re the scapegoat?”

“Something like that.”

“Trust you to fall for some superior.”

She shook her head and handed Alfie’s coffee back before getting her own.

“I didn’t mean to,” Alfie whispered.

“Mean to what?”

“Fall for him.”

Tia shrugged. “The heart wants what the heart wants.”

“Until it’s staked.”

Tia rolled her eyes. “Bloody hell, you’re worse than me. Let’s stick the TV on, and not talk about Mr. Mystery.”

Alfie nodded and let her choose the movie. Thankfully not a soppy romance, but a sci-fi with plenty of gore and aliens. It helped and watching Tia duck behind a cushion made him smile.

Their movie was interrupted by Alfie’s chirping phone. He sighed and peered at the screen, expecting Nate, then hurried to answer the call from Ryan.

“Alfie? How you feeling?”

He swallowed awkwardly and nodded. “I’m—I’m much better.”

“Better enough to cover a shift on Sunday?”

“Erm, I guess so.”

Ryan sighed. “Great. I’ve got Dave and Mike with you to accompany Nate to the funeral.”

“The what?”

“Yeah, dear old Doris was cremated on Wednesday, and her ashes are flying over to be buried. It was her wishes apparently, all arranged, and she wanted Nate to be there.”

Alfie shook his head. “I can’t go—”

“Why not?”

He looked to Tia and she wagged her finger and nodded.

“I just don’t think I’m experienced enough.”

Tia slammed her palm to her face, and Alfie turned away.

“Never going to get experience if you say no when I suggest stuff. First you turn down days on H, and now this. Besides, Dave and Mike will be there. They still go on about you punching Nate.”

“Isn’t that a reason I shouldn’t go?”

Ryan tutted. “Can’t show them fear. He’ll be handcuffed the whole time, and Dave and Mike can handle him.”

Alfie closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. “Fine.”

“Now you sound like a proper prison officer, tired and fed up.”

The line went dead, and Alfie glared at the phone.

“Don’t let him stop you from doing your job,” Tia said, crossing her arms. “Get back in there!”