Page 76 of Freshman

Alfie gave in and pushed his thumb past his lips. He gently sucked, the same way he’d sucked on Nate’s thumb when it was in his mouth.

He groaned at the taste of him.

Nate chuckled by the door. “I know what you’re doing…”

Alfie pulled his thumb free. There was no way Nate knew.

“I want you in my cell.”

“No,” Alfie gasped, clambering to his feet. He used the railing opposite to help himself stand. “That’s not going to happen.”

“It is. The sooner you accept it, the sooner you can be laid out on my bed with my head between your legs. I’ll take care of you, in every way you want to be taken care of.”

18

I’ll take care of you.

Nate’s words could be conceived as both a comfort and a threat. In Alfie’s case, the comfort to the words was the threat. Nate shouldn’t make him feel good and cared for.

He’d sworn if he ever opened the hatch under Nate’s say so, he would quit, but he hadn’t.

The door—if he ever went inside Nate’s cell alone without at least telling the others, then he would quit his job.

That was the new line he had to draw after crossing the first one so many times.

Alfie spent Saturday readjusting to sleep and Sunday lying in bed, then relocating to the sofa so he could watch TV while he drifted in and out of consciousness. He couldn’t be bothered to dress in proper clothes and chose some worn joggers and a stained T-shirt to wear.

Tia whined down the phone when he told her he wasn’t coming to the coffee shop like normal. He didn’t tell her about his sore nose, as he knew she would come over and ask for all the details. Saturday it had ached enough to make his eyes water, but by Sunday he could breathe through his nostrils again, and when he sneezed, there was no blood. He just looked awful. The purple smears beneath his eyes didn’t hurt, but they were puffy and everywhere he looked, he could see the fuzzy mass at the bottom of his vision.

The two days away from Larkwood were Alfie’s only chance to get his head together after Nate had spent five days of the week reeling him in. He had to swim away as fast as he could, stretch out the line to put as much distance between hunter and prey. Alfie blinked back to awareness when he realised there was a fishing programme on the TV. He quickly changed the channel and settled back into the sofa to watch women bicker and men lather themselves in fake tan.

At six in the afternoon, there was a bang at the front door. Alfie ignored it. One programme droned into the other, and he struggled to keep his eyes open and his brain focused.

The door was struck again. Alfie groaned, then forced himself to sit up.

“I’m coming!” he yelled, getting to his feet.

He swung the door open and shrugged at the man on the other side. He was dressed in green, with his green delivery van behind him. Both the uniform and the van had the logo of an expensive supermarket, and the badge pinned to the man’s fleece had the name Trent printed in white letters.

“I’ve got a shopping delivery for you.”

He held up a bag, and Alfie eyed it suspiciously. “I haven’t ordered anything.”

Trent waved his hand dismissively. “Yeah, he said it was a surprise. It’s paid for. All you’ve got to do is sign.”

Alfie folded his arms and frowned at the bag of shopping. “I’m not sure—”

“Just take it.”

The van rumbled behind Trent, prepped to go as soon as possible.

Alfie sighed and flicked his chin out. “Fine.”

He took the bag and placed it on the floor inside the house.

Trent pulled out his phone and tapped on the screen for Alfie to scribble his signature.

“Thanks, you look like you need it,” Trent said, then turned and walked back to his grumbling van.

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