Page 93 of Worth the Wait
“But that’s between me and you,” he added.
“Like always.”
Nathan gave a ghost of a smile, then Freddie flipped the toggle back on. The red light blinked to life again, bathing the dashboard in an accusatory glow. He said nothing else. There wasn’t anything left he could safely say.
The car doors unlocked with a mechanicalclunk, and Freddie climbed out, rounding to the rear passenger door,opened it, and stood back, giving Nathan space to step out. Nathan did. No fuss. No aggression. And a tight-jawed calm he wore like armour. The same look he’d had all his life, one that saidI’m holding it together, but only just.
Freddie didn’t touch him. Didn’t guide him in with a hand on the shoulder. Didn’t need to. Nathan fell into step beside him, walking through the secure side entrance of the station, with Becca following. The corridor to the custody suite felt longer than usual. Each footstep an echo of the decision Freddie couldn’t unmake.
The custody sergeant stood behind the desk, filling out a log sheet. He looked up as they approached. “Name?”
“Nathan James Carter,” Freddie answered for him. “Date of birth. Twenty-third February, nineteen ninety-two. Arrested on suspicion of obstructing a police operation. Cautioned at the scene.”
Kemp nodded and began typing. “Any health concerns? Drugs, alcohol, medication?”
“No,” Nathan said flatly.
“Any injuries?”
“None.”
Freddie stepped forward and retrieved the cuff key from his belt. “I’ll take these off now.”
Too gentle. Too familiar. With anyone else, his tone would’ve been brisk. Detached. Professional. He prayed no one noticed. But Nathan did. Freddie could feel it in the way his eyes lifted to meet his. Soft. Knowing. The same eyes that had always undone him without trying. That made his pulse stutter, and his body lean in before his brain caught up.
So trying to keep his hands steady, he brushed his fingers along Nathan’s wrist. One stroke. A fleeting touch. Nothing more. A quiet sign to say he was sorry. Then he found the keyhole. The cuffs released and Nathan’sshoulders dropped. Freddie fought the urge to say something. To apologise again. To ask if he hated him. But the moment passed.
Nathan rubbed his wrists once, then stepped back.
Kemp gestured to the side. “Interview Room Two. Carrick and Bowen are waiting.”
Freddie gave a nod and motioned Nathan forward. This time, he didn’t need to lead him. Nathan walked ahead, and Freddie followed to the door. It buzzed and Freddie opened it, passing through to the holding corridor, and he clocked DS Bowen through the glass of Interview Room Two, already setting up the file on the desk. DI Carrick was inside, too, flipping through his notes.
Freddie stopped at the threshold, turning to Nathan. “You can ask for a solicitor. You want me to arrange that?”
Nathan shook his head once. “I’m good.”
He didn’t look good. He looked tired and wired, skin pale under the fluorescents, jaw set like stone. But he was ready. At least outwardly.
Freddie nodded, then pushed the door open. “Mr Carter for you, Ma’am.”
Bowen nodded.
Carrick didn’t look up. “Mr Carter, take a seat. We’ll begin shortly.”
Nathan stepped inside, sitting across from the detectives. Freddie hovered for a beat. Watching. Wanting to say something.Anything. But this wasn’t his place anymore. So he gave a brief nod to Bowen, then turned and pulled the door closed behind him.
And Freddie walked away down the corridor, every step echoing like the dull thuds of his heart.
* * **
Nathan sat on the hard plastic chair, resting his elbows on the metal table, loosely clenching his fists to keep him steady. The room was all angles and pale grey walls, with a faint chemical smell, and a little red light blinking above the door.
DI Carrick started. “This is Detective Inspector Thomas Carrick. The time is eight forty-seven p.m. on the twenty-second of April. We’re at Worthbridge Police Station, Interview Room Two. Also present: Detective Sergeant Asha Bowen, and Mr Nathan Carter, arrested on suspicion of obstructing a police operation in connection with the raid at fourteen Henley Crescent.”
Nathan’s stomach twisted, a tight coil of stone and static. The words landed like lead, even though he’d already heard them.
Carrick continued, “Mr Carter, you are entitled to free legal advice and may pause the interview at any time to request a solicitor. Do you understand?”
