Page 11 of Worth the Wait
“Alfie, you’re not being charged at this time. The matter will be reviewed for a community resolution, given your age and the context. That might involve a meeting with the Youth Offending Team, possibly some restorative work if the other party agrees, and further support services.”
Alfie gave another shrug.
Nathan knew that look. Not apathy.Protection.
Bowen continued, “We’ll also be flagging your vulnerability status with the local safeguarding team,given the recent relocation and prior history. Someone will follow up with you both within the week.”
Nathan nodded. Great. More people prying into his business. IntoAlfie’sbusiness. He’d thought he’d taken him away from all that.
PC Harris stood, tucking the laptop under one arm. “I’ll take you through the release paperwork. He’s free to go, Mr Carter. But I’d advise you both to engage with the support when it comes.”
Nathan pushed to his feet, leg stiff from too long sat still. The old injury bit sharp, but he didn’t wince, instead he laid a hand on Alfie’s shoulder. Meant it to ground the lad. Steady him. But the grip landed heavier than it should. Too much pressure and not enough care.
Alfie flinched. But he didn’t pull away.
Nathan wasn’t sure if that made it better or worse.
He still didn’t know how to do this. How to be a dad to a kid shaped by years of absence and neglect. A lad who looked more like a closed door than a son.
He wasn’t the father Alfie needed.
Not yet. Maybe not ever.
Old habits kicked in, though, and Nathan scanned Freddie. Top to toe. Quick, clean, automatic. Soldier’s eyes missed little. Not the tight set of Freddie’s jaw, or the way his mouth pulled slightly on one side, as if he was holding something in. The uniform suited him. Too well. Shoulders broader now, face more carved out, stubble sharp across his jaw. Still had those eyes though. Deep brown, intense, but never as unreadable as he liked to think. Nathan had spent too long gazing into them to be fooled.
He looked away before the ache could take shape. Before it made the moment mean more than it should, and he followed Harris out with Alfie.
Neither said goodbye.
They’d already done that.
A lifetime ago.
Chapter three
Camouflage and Cracks
Freddie slammed the door of his battered Peugeot with more force than necessary. The metallicthunkechoed through the quiet police station car park, bouncing off concrete and steel. He slumped back, closed his eyes, and finally breathed.
It felt like the first breath he’d taken since stepping into that interview room.
Since seeing him.
Nathan Carter.
He rolled the name around in his mind like a mouthful of glass. Maybe if he kept it formal—Nathan, not Nate—it wouldn’t cut so deep. Wouldn’t sear like a brand right through his chest.
Who the fuck was he kidding?
It didn’t sting. It scorched.
Worse than acid.
A wound straight through the heart that hadn’t had fifteen years to heal so much as fester.
Somehow, he’d made it through the rest of his shift. Miraculous, really. He’d buried himself in paperwork, then rode out the last hours on patrol with Becca, who’d filled the silence with her usual unfiltered commentary on everything from cats with attitude to her latest string of Tinder disasters. She didn’t notice his silence. Or if she did, she didn’t pry. Bless her for that. The rest of the shift had been quiet. A couple of nothing calls. The big Radley case was still with CID, and Freddie had a few days’ reprieve before being dragged into surveillance duty.
Now, finally, he could go home.
