Page 29 of A Secret Escape

Marcus

T here’s something about seeing Lila wearing my clothes that fills me with warmth, pulling at a part of me I haven’t felt in a long time. It’s a feeling of comfort, but also… the feeling that she’s mine.

I shake my head, forcing myself back to reality, but my lips find hers again, lingering for a long moment before I pry myself off her.

The smile on her face sends a fucking maelstrom of emotions swirling through me, scrambling my thoughts, but despite the whirlwind in my head, my heart appears to settle into an unexpected calm.

“Come on,” I say, giving her hand a quick squeeze.

Walking back down the stairs, the worry that had been temporarily pushed aside hits me like a wave, as though it had all been left here in the hallway, and now I was stepping back into it.

It was supposed to be the perfect evening, the perfect date, but somehow, everything has been turned upside down. I glimpse the wine glasses on the living room coffee table and my stomach churns. I head to the kitchen, Lila’s footsteps following behind.

I smile to myself as an image pops into my head of a small puppy following my every move, the soft patter of her feet on my floor.

She perches on a stool at the kitchen island as I fill the kettle .

I open the fridge and pull out a carton of the oat milk I made sure to have in stock. “Sorry I couldn’t find any caramel syrup,” I say. “Hopefully sugar is okay?”

She nods, smiling as she watches me make the drinks. I can feel her eyes on my hands as they tremble slightly pouring the water.

“I’m sorry,” Lila says softly.

I set the kettle down and look at her. There is a sadness in her eyes, her expression full of worry.

“What in the world are you sorry for?”

“I don’t know… I just… I hope… I mean, sorry if you didn’t want…”

If I didn’t want what? The thought that she might be regretting what we just did has a panicked dread spreading through me like wildfire.

I walk over to her, and her legs widen on the stool to let me in close. I place both my hands on her face gently, tilting her head up to look at me.

“You never have to say sorry to me, alright? I wanted that.” I lean down and kiss her. “Believe me, I wanted that. I want you.”

She nods, pulling her face away as a tear wells up in the corner of her eye.

Fuck.

“Lila, look at me.” My hands drop softly to her shoulders.

She raises her eyes back up to me, blinking back tears, and fuck if the sadness in her eyes doesn’t break my heart.

“Tell me something. Do you want me?”

Her eyes grow wide as her jaw drops open slightly. She seems stunned at first, but then smiles.

“Of course I want you,” she says .

My heart does a fucking flip in my chest as a flutter fills my stomach. Those words shouldn’t feel so good, but they do.

“Good. I want you, alright? So don’t ever apologise to me, for anything. Got it?”

She nods and I kiss her, my mouth pressing firmly against hers.

***

Back in the lounge, we sit in silence for several moments, sipping our drinks as I wonder how long we’ll have to wait. Silence surrounds us like a fog, the images from earlier making themselves ever more present in my mind as the minutes tick by.

Her words from earlier circle my head, and a heightened worry that she may have been recognised solidifies in my brain, a protective instinct coming to the forefront. Would she be safe?

I don’t know how the conversation with the police will go, but I sincerely hope she stays the night after it’s done.

I grab the remote, flicking the TV on in an attempt to have something else to focus on other than the deafening silence.

I flick through the channels, lingering for a minute or two on the news to see if there’s any mention of it, but there’s only the never-ending talk of politics.

Almost an hour has passed when the sound of a car pulling up outside makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on edge. Lila shifts in her seat, pulling herself off me as she sits up.

A car door slams, followed by another one, and a moment later, there’s a loud knock on the door. I glance at the clock on the mantelpiece. Ten minutes to midnight .

I squeeze her leg gently and we exchange a sombre look. Without another word, I switch off the TV and go to the door.

Two officers stand before me, one of them pulling out a notepad from under his arm. The second officer holds out a badge.

“Good evening,” the first says. “I’m SIO John Torres with Greater Manchester Police. This is DS Blackwood. Apologies for disturbing you so late. Are you Marcus Andersson?”

“I am.”

“May we come in?”

“Yes, of course.” I step aside to allow them to enter, locking the door behind them.

I lead them into the living room, where Lila stands up from the couch.

“Evening, miss,” DS Blackwood says with a polite nod. “Sorry to disturb you so late in the evening.”

Lila nods, her lips pressed into a thin line as I stand beside her, taking her hand.

“Thank you for coming,” I say. “Can I offer you a drink?”

“No, we’re alright, thank you,” Torres replies.

“Please, have a seat.”

They sit on the second couch adjacent to the coffee table and I drop back down beside Lila, my hand instinctively finding her knee.

“First of all, thank you for calling this in. I know it couldn’t have been easy,” Torres says, his notepad balancing on his knee. “Before we go any further, I just need to check - are you both alright? Do either of you need medical assistance?”

“We’re alright, thank you,” I say. “Just a bit shaken.”

He nods. “Understandable. We’ll need to take a few details, if that’s okay – names, addresses, contact numbers? ”

We give them all our details as DS Blackwood notes it all down, quick and tidy.

“Thank you,” Torres says once the last note has been made. “Now, under normal circumstances, we’d speak to you both separately, but given the time and your state of shock, we’re happy to do it this way for now – but please just keep in mind that we may need to follow up with you individually.”

I rub my hand over Lila’s knee. She’s not facing any of this on her own. Not if I can help it.

“Can you walk us through what you saw, in your own words?” Torres asks.

“We were walking back from the bar, and had just turned onto Chando’s Grove, when we saw a car stopped at the junction, its lights on and passenger door open. There was a driver in the car. Then another man appeared at the passenger side, and they sped off.”

A tremor passes through Lila as her leg twitches under my hand, and I give her knee a gentle squeeze, attempting to reassure her despite the queasy feeling rising in my own stomach as I picture the scene again.

The officers stay silent, listening. Waiting.

“And then I looked across the road, and saw… a body. On the ground.”

Lila drops her head into her hands.

My heart aches to hold her and tell her everything will be alright, but we both know it’s not true.

“Thank you,” Torres says. “I’m sorry you had to witness that. It couldn’t have been easy.”

“No,” I say quietly. “It’s been a bit of a shock to both of us.”

Torres nods, holding a pause of understanding for a moment before he continues. “Do you know around what time that was? ”

“I couldn’t say for certain. It must have been, just after ten, I’d guess.”

“Did you call the police straight away?” Blackwood asks.

“No,” I admit. “I didn’t know if anyone had seen us. I made sure no one was following us and got back as quick as we could.”

“Could you describe any distinguishing characteristics of either of the men in the car? Age, clothing, anything that might help identify them?”

I pause, turning my head ever so slightly to look at Lila, wondering if she’ll say anything. When she doesn’t, I look back at them and shake my head.

“No. It was too dark to see anything clearly. I think the man who got in the car was wearing a hat, but I couldn’t tell you what kind.”

Torres turns his attention to Lila. “What about you, Miss Evans? Did you see either of the men in the car?”

Lila drops her hands into her lap and clasps them tightly, keeping her eyes focused on her intertwined fingers.

“I’m not sure,” I say, not wanting to speak for her.

I don’t know why she’s not telling them that she recognised him, that he may have seen her, but it’s not my information to tell.

A heavy silence hangs in the air.

“He had a knife,” Lila says.

Torres straightens in his seat slightly.

“He was holding a knife,” she continues. “And he looked right at me.”

The officers exchange a glance with each other, then look back at her.

“I could only see his eyes,” she says, the words coming out in little more than a whisper .

I wrap my arm around her, pulling her close to me. Her entire body is trembling.

“Did you see what colour his eyes were?” Torres asks.

She’s silent for a moment, then shakes her head.

“Do you think you’d be able to identify him in a line-up?” Blackwood asks.

“I don’t know,” she whispers.

The officers are silent as they look over their notes.

“Did either of you hear anything before, during, or after the attack? Any voices, conversation, screams?”

“No,” I say. “It was completely silent. We just turned the corner and saw this car, saw a man jump into the passenger side and speed off.”

“Did you see which direction they went?” Torres asks.

“I’m pretty sure they turned right.”

Blackwood scribbles down a note.

“Did you notice any other vehicles on the street that could either be connected to the incident, or any other bystanders that may have witnessed it as well?”

“No,” I say, shaking my head. Are we bystanders? Or are we witnesses?

The detectives look over their notes again.

“Just have to check,” Blackwood asks. “Did either of you interact with the crime scene in any way? Did you touch or move anything on or near the body, or drop or lose anything that belonged to you anywhere near the crime scene?”

“I walked across the road to check… to confirm what I thought. I wasn’t sure at first. But I didn’t touch anything. And I walked away almost immediately.”

“Did you take any photos or videos of the incident or the aftermath?” Torres asks .

“No. Like I said, as soon as I realised it was… I didn’t know if they were coming back or if they would follow us, so I got us home as quickly as I could.”

“What about the car?” Torres continues, looking first at me, then switching his attention to Lila. “Did you notice any details of the car, the colour, make, or any part of the reg plate?”

Lila shakes her head.

“The way it took off, I’m fairly certain it had to be a four-wheel drive. Possibly an x5, or something along those lines, but it was too dark to see anything for certain.”

I wish I had something more, anything helpful I could give them.

“Okay, well, I think that’s all we need for now, unless there’s anything else you can think to add?”

I glance at Lila but her lips are pressed together firmly, her stare fixed on her hands.

“No, that’s all,” I say.

“Would you mind just reviewing the notes on the page and signing your names at the bottom if you agree it’s an accurate account?” Blackwood says, passing me his notepad.

Lila leans in to look over my shoulder as we read the notes in silence. I look at her, my eyes searching hers for confirmation before I sign my name.

I hand back the notepad. “Thank you for coming out tonight.”

“Just doing our job, mate,” Torres says. “The first twenty-four hours are crucial, and the information you’ve given us is vital. We’re grateful you called it in.”

“Yea, of course.”

I stand up to walk them out, but Torres speaks again .

“As I mentioned earlier, because you are witnesses to a serious incident, it’s possible we may need to follow up with you again as the investigation progresses. Do you have any plans of leaving the country in the near future?”

“No, sir.”

“Alright, please let us know if that changes, just in case we need to get in touch.” He pulls out a card from his folder and notes down a number on it.

“The crime reference number is 596 with today’s date.

If you do think of anything else – even something you’re unsure about - please just call that number and give the reference.

It will put you through straight to us. Even the tiniest details in cases like this can help. ”

“Thank you, we will.”

“There is also a support service available on that number, if you find you are struggling to process what you’ve seen. It’s completely optional, but they are good at helping people in incidents like this.”

“Thank you, we’ll keep that in mind,” I say.

Finally, they leave, and I lock the door behind them.

Sitting back down on the couch, I put my arm around Lila, pulling her in to me.

“You alright?” I murmur.

She nods, snuggling her head against my chest.

“It’s over now,” I whisper, rubbing her arm. “We’re safe.”

We sit there for several minutes, not speaking or moving, the ticking of the clock the only sound in the room.

“I should get back,” she says eventually, a reluctance in her voice that tells me she wants to do anything but that.

I want to offer her to stay. The words are on the tip of my tongue, and I know she would, but I don’t want her to feel pressured .

I don’t want her to regret anything.

“Yea,” I whisper, but I don’t let her go.

A moment later, she sits up, easing herself free from my arms, her gaze lifting toward the stairs.

“Thank you for the clothes. I’ll just go change,” she says.

“No. You keep them.”

Her eyes light up and a small smile creeps across her face for the first time since we’ve come downstairs. “Really?”

“Absolutely.” I stand up, pulling her up with me as I wrap my arms around her waist. “They suit you.” Softly, I kiss her lips, holding her as long as she’ll let me.

A warmth spreads through me as I picture her falling asleep wearing them.

“Thank you,” she says softly.

“Come on, I’ll take you home.”

We put on our coats and shoes and I step outside first, scanning the street in both directions for anything unusual, or any unfamiliar cars. I figure if someone had been watching us, they would have seen the police and left by now, but I’m not taking any chances.

We drive in silence back to Lila’s flat, where I park and walk her to her door.

“You sure you’re going to be alright?” I ask.

She nods, looking down at her keys. “Yea. I’m just really tired.”

Please invite me in, I pray. Ask me to stay.

When she doesn’t say anything, a small sigh escapes my mouth.

“Call me anytime, alright? If you can’t sleep or anything, I mean it, just call me, and I’ll come back. Alright?”

She smiles and leans in, pressing her lips to mine.

“Thank you, Marcus. For everything. ”

“Good night, Lila.”

She unlocks the door to her building and walks in, glancing back momentarily before she disappears from view.