Chapter Nineteen

They didn’t have enough evidence to link Alfie to the escape plan, but after twenty-four grueling hours, they did charge him for his sexual relationship with Nate.

He denied it, shook his head and told them they had got it wrong, but when they seized his phone they had all the evidence they needed to prove they had slept together. 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 traumatized, thinking he regretted it. Alfie wished he 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. They sat with their arms folded, and they flared their nostrils each time Alfie refused to answer a question.

Alfie reached across the table, to play the message again, but it was snatched away and slipped into a clear plastic bag. There were other bags, one with the post its, and one with the picture Nate had drawn of him. They didn’t find a phone in Nate’s cell, or any drawings of Alfie. It was clean of suspicion. The evidence came from his side. He couldn’t argue against the charge. He accepted the crime and begged for bail.

They were still convinced he knew about the escape, but Alfie argued he had no idea they were going to be rammed off the road down some country lane. If he knew he wouldn’t have climbed into the car in the first place and put himself in danger. He would’ve warned Mike and Dave and not risked them getting hurt. The officers dismissed the latter argument immediately and sneered at him like a traitor.

They 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 to the conditions, but nothing sunk in until he was back at his house, curtains drawn and lights off.

He was going to prison.

Tia appeared at the front door, her figure a silhouette against the backdrop of daytime. She sighed, then rushed to the curtains and threw them open. Alfie drew his eyebrows together and ducked his head to avoid the sign for Larkwood outside.

“So why you hiding in the dark? I told you the day before, if you didn’t answer, I’d come over.”

“I’m really not in the mood.”

She walked into the kitchen with a huff. “Surely you’re in the mood for coffee.”

“I’m not, and I doubt you’ll want to drink it with me once you’ve read this.”

He held up his charge sheet, and she frowned, moving closer.

“You’ve spoken to the police.”

Alfie flapped the paper in impatience. “I’ve been charged by the police.”

She snatched it from his hand and glared at it. “Charged with what….”

Alfie knew from her shocked expression she had read the relevant part. She shook her head and widened her eyes before circling the sofa. “You-you didn’t?”

Alfie bowed forward and gripped his head with both hands. “It just happened. I wasn’t—”

“You had sex with Nate Mathews! He’s all over the news. What he did ten years ago, it’s sick, and you slept with him.” She dropped down on the sofa and gripped Alfie’s knee. “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 animal, and you had sex with him.”

“I know, okay? I was stupid … but he was never an animal toward me.”

She widened her eyes, and her pupils retracted to mere flecks. “You’re kidding me, right? This wasn’t just sex was it… He’s the guy you were hung up on. He got you that coat.”

Alfie’s stomach fizzled with unease and he gripped his head harder. “He wasn’t evil. He looked out for me.”

Tia jabbed him hard in the shoulder. “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.”

Tia flapped the paper in her hand. “This is serious—”

“You think I don’t know that. I’m going to get time for sure. An ex-prison officer locked up, the inmates will hate me, and so will the officers. I might get a year if I’m lucky, but that’s plenty of time for them to do damage. I know I’m stupid Tia. It just happened.”

“But … knowing what he did, why would you even go in 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 must’ve done was bad, but I never read the details. I didn’t want to.”

Tia 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 their naïve child. “You didn’t read what he did? He killed those guys for no reason, lured them in, one his own father. He’s twisted and manipulative.”

“He had a reason!” Alfie snapped.

“What was it?”

“They-they hurt someone he cared about. He did it for revenge, to make that person feel safe again.”

Tia bunched her lips together and shook her head. “There’s no mention of that in the articles. Let me guess, he told you that was why he did it? And you fell for it and believed him.”

Alfie opened his mouth to argue, but his voice box went mute. The angry swirling in his 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 give in to a violent murderer who tortured three guys. He manipulated you, used you for fun, and then left you to die.”

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

****

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, thought of anything but the inmate.

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.

Nate dragging him from the car had been the perfect distraction. Gareth, Alfie’s attorney, described the move as genius. Alfie was the fall-guy, was always the fall guy, but he never even knew it. 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. The public wanted someone 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 sentencing was his nineteenth birthday. He snorted bitterly after his third swig of whiskey. No longer a Freshman. He doubted many real Freshman spent their second year banged up in prison. It was going to be the worse year of his life, and he was to blame.

If he had read Nate’s file, if he’d shuddered and curled over at the mention of his name like everyone else, he wouldn’t have gotten himself in the dire situation. There would be no dramatic guilty or not guilty moment. Gareth had told him it 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 himself 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.”

“I’ll still get time though.”

Gareth made a noise of confirmation. “It could be as little as a year, and you might only have to serve half in prison.”

Six months of being targeted by staff and inmates. 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 court, 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 wanted his sentence to serve as a warning.

Two 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 few weeks and months finally caught up with him and assaulted his emotions. His eyes burned and dropped tears. His nose ran, and his lip quivered.

“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!”

His knee’s 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 himself. 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 in 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.