Page 74 of The Freshman

The taxi screeched to a stop on thecurb, and Tia paid the fair.

Alfie swung his legs from the carcarefully, then placed his crutches on the ground before heavinghimself up.

Tia followed, and he could feel hereyes scanning him the whole way to the door.

“I’ll transfer you themoney for the taxi.”

“What you talking about,I’m coming in.”

He turned to her and shook his head.“I really just wanna be on my own.”

Tia scrunched her face in sympathy.“You sure?”

He forced his lips into what he hopedwas a reassuring smile. “I’m sure. Now go before he drivesoff.”

“I’m gonna call you later,and you better pick up.”

“I will,” he promised,then hobbled inside.

His duvet was still on the sofa, andthe dirty plates were stacked high in the sink. It wasn’t thewelcome home of movies with banners and balloons. It was thewelcome from a lonely house and a lonely existence.

Alfie couldn’t recall breaking down inthe hospital, and Tia didn’t say he had, but when he loweredhimself to the sofa and stared out the window at the sign forLarkwood, he sobbed into his palms. Nate had left him, and hedeserved it for freaking out like he did.

The noises escaping him didn’t soundhuman, but cruel and tortured. He was nothing but an animal snaredin his own trap. He reached for the duvet, shoved it over hismouth, and screamed until the painkillers faded and he passed outfrom the burn in his ribs.

Alfie didn’t believe it was possibleto feel any worse, but there was a knock to the door the next dayand his heart sped up. The only person who visited was Tia, and shewalked straight in twirling her key. That meant it was a delivery.Pizza, clothing, groceries, he didn’t care as long as it wassomething from Nate. He hopped on his crutches, balanced on one,then opened the door wide.

A police officer stood on the otherside, stern faced, with a notepad in his hand. “AlfieBridges?”

He nodded. “That’s me.”

“I’m Martin from MarshallPolice Station. Here to ask you a few questions.”

Alfie had avoided them at thehospital, faked drowsiness and pain when they approached. He didn’twant to be quizzed on the crash. He wanted to lock the incidentaway to dissect later with a sound mind.

“Does it have to be rightnow?”

Martin nodded. “Yes, yes itdoes.”

Alfie hopped back into the living roomand resettled himself in the groove on the sofa.

“How’s thehip?”

“Pelvis,” Alfie mumbled,“and ribs. I’m sore, but I can move if I take it easy.”

Martin perched at the other end of thesofa, as far away as physically possible. “My colleagues will bealong shortly.”

Alfie frowned.“Colleagues?”

“Yes, a warrant is beingfinalized.”

“Why-why do you needthat?”

Martin hung his head and closed hiseyes. “We want to ask about your relationship with NateMathews.”

Alfie’s blood clogged in his veins,and he hunched over with his hand braced on his stomach.

“Relationship? He’s aprisoner and I’m a prison officer.”

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