Page 75 of Worth the Wait
Freddie said nothing.
There was no point.
“Don’t think Carrick won’t clock it when he reviews the footage.”
Freddie exhaled, long and rough, scrubbing a hand through his hair.
“I had to get him out, Becks. Kid don’t belong in there.”
Becca shook her head slowly, a tired smile ghosting over her mouth. “You’re a good copper, Fred.Toogood. That’s gonna be the death of you, you know that?”
“Yeah. I know.”
Becca tipped her head back, looking up at the strip lights, as if weighing what she was about to say. Then she clapped him once on the shoulder, firm.
“Hope he was worth it.”
With that, she left him standing there, exhausted, guilty, and wondering how many more lines he’d cross for Nathan bloody Carter.
chapter fifteen
Aftershocks
Nathan got up long before dawn.
Truth was, he hadn’t slept at all.
He’d lain there flat on his back, staring up at the cracked ceiling, the way he used to stare up at foreign stars the night before deployment, mind rattling around like a tin can kicked down a dark road.
He’d listened hard, ears tuned to every creak and sigh of the house. Having confiscated Alfie’s phone, he knew the kid hadn’t called anyone, hadn’t tried to slip out. Still, Nathan wasn’t naïve. These kinds of operations didn’t always run through the usual channels. Phonescould be burner throwaways, handoffs made in person. Old school. Harder to trace.
So he stayed awake.
Stayed and listened.
Because keeping Alfie inside these four walls was the only thing he could control.
But when hewasn’tlistening for movement, he was thinking about Freddie. How the rest of his night might have gone after Nathan had bolted with Alfie in tow. Was he safe? Had it come back on him? Nathan hated to think that Freddie might pay a price for his screw-up too.
By the time the first grey light bled through the curtains, Nathan gave up. He pulled on trackies, went out to the shed, and dragged his old army boxing bag and weights into the mess of the backyard. Did three rounds until his knuckles throbbed and his lungs burned, the cold air biting into him. Sweated it out. Pushed until the buzz of adrenaline finally bled away.
After a quick shower, he was in the kitchen making toast when Alfie appeared. The kid looked rough. Dressed in school trousers, shirt half-tucked, tie looped around his neck in an afterthought, with his bag slumped off one shoulder.
“Can I have my phone?”
Nathan waved his fingers from the burn of the toast. “No.” He slathered butter and jam onto a slice and shoved it towards him. “Eat.”
“Ain’t hungry.”
“I said eat.”
Alfie grabbed the toast and bit down, chewing with the grim determination of someone taking medicine.
Nathan caught the crumpled blazer half-hanging from Alfie’s bag. “Wear the blazer.”
Alfie grimaced, mouth full. “It’s a fucking cast-off.”
“Don’t care. Wear the blazer.”
