Page 49 of A Secret Escape

Marcus

T here’s a few cars behind us as we leave town, headlights glowing like distant ghosts in the mirrors. One by one, they turn off, back into other neighbourhoods, towards pubs, homes, or wherever else people go on a Monday evening.

Eventually, there’s only one left, and it’s trailing a little too close for my liking.

I don’t say anything, trying not to jump to conclusions. We’re not on a private road yet, and the countryside up here is scattered with cottages and isolated homes. For all I know, it’s just someone that lives nearby. But my fingers tighten around the steering wheel, my knuckles turning white.

The road winds darker the farther we get from town. The streetlights disappear. Shadows stretch long across the narrow lane like clawed arms reaching from the dense trees, twisting over the tarmac as if trying to snatch at the tyres.

I glance in the rear-view mirror again. The car is still there. Still keeping pace. Not too close. Not aggressive. Just… constant .

Lila shifts in her seat and turns her head toward me. I can feel her eyes on me before I even look. There’s tension in the air – thick and brittle.

She goes to speak, but I rest my hand on her knee.

“I know,” I say, keeping my voice deliberately steady despite the drumming of my heart. “Don’t worry. I’m keeping an eye on it.”

She nods slowly and turns forward again, but I hear her gulp. I see the way her hand tightens around her coat in her lap, her gaze locked firmly on the wing mirror, her jaw clenched so tight it hardens the soft profile of her face.

We’re coming up to the turnoff for the private lane that leads to the cottage. It’s not marked, just a barely there path that dips off the main road, hidden unless you know what you’re looking for.

I don’t signal or slow down like I usually would, and instead I keep driving straight, past the turn off. My heart thuds painfully as we sail past our sanctuary, committing to a game of cat and mouse.

The tension in the air is suffocating as we drive on for several minutes.

It presses down on us, making the space within the car feel claustrophobic.

Lila’s breath comes quick and shallow, her lips pressed into a thin line.

My own lungs feel constricted, each breath deliberate, as if the simple act of inhaling might shatter our fragile composure.

Eventually, I notice the welcoming fluorescent glare of a petrol station at the side of the road. The blue and red sign flickers slightly, illuminating a gentle flurry of snowflakes drifting through the air.

I pull in, lining the car up with one of the bays, trying to make it look casual, routine. There’s an attendant inside the shop looking down at his phone, oblivious to our quiet panic.

A moment later, the car pulls in to the petrol station, but instead of pulling into one of the bays, it parks in one of the parking spots at the edge. It’s a grey Corsa, at least ten years old, with aftermarket alloys that gleam too brightly against the car’s weathered body.

Our eyes are locked on it, waiting to see if someone is going to get out, but no one does. The engine cuts off, but the car sits there, dark and menacing, like a predator waiting for the right moment.

I can feel my pulse in my throat, my mouth dry as sandpaper.

Maybe it’s just someone who’s lost, and they’ve stopped to check their phone.

The thought feels hollow, a desperate attempt at rationality.

We sit there for what must be several minutes, not daring to breathe, to disturb the silence.

The digital clock on the dashboard ticks silently forward, each minute stretching impossibly long.

Lila’s hand finds mine in the dark, her fingers ice-cold and trembling.

I squeeze back, wishing I could offer her more than this small comfort.

A figure gets out of the car, his face entirely obscured by a large hood. The overhead lights cast his face in shadow, making him a silhouette as he walks into the station. I angle my neck to try to catch a glimpse of him, but I can’t see any detail of his face.

He pays at the till and walks out with an energy drink can, the bright green logo glinting under the harsh lights.

He gets back in the car, starting it up and driving off, continuing in the same direction further on down the road, brake lights glowing red then fading into the distance like dying embers.

We simultaneously let out a deep breath as the red glow disappears into the darkness ahead, my hand resting on Lila’s leg. The tension drains from the car so suddenly, it leaves a vacuum, making me light-headed with relief.

“It’s okay,” I say. “We’re okay. It was nothing. Probably just someone lost. ”

She nods but doesn’t say anything, her eyes fixed on the spot where the car vanished, as if expecting it to materialise again.

We sit for another couple of minutes before I finally start the car and pull onto the road, heading back towards the cottage. The headlights illuminate the gentle flurries of snow, softly coating the road with a fresh white powder.

As we turn back onto the private road that leads to the cottage, Lila breathes an audible sigh of relief, her body beginning to soften, releasing its rigid posture.

The trees on either side swallow the road like a tunnel. The headlights catch the frost on low hanging branches, the glint of icicles dripping off them like crystal daggers, both beautiful and menacing at the same time.

The cottage lights come into view up ahead, warm and golden and safe.

As we pull into the drive, my shoulders drop down from their heightened state, the sanctuary of the cottage steadying my breath.

But even as the engine quiets, I can’t help one last glance in the rearview mirror, searching the darkness behind us for the ghostly glow of headlights.

I turn to Lila.

“Are you alright?”

“Yea,” she says, her voice low. “I just don’t know if this threat is ever going to end.”

I take her hand. “It will.” I try my best to sound reassuring. “They’ll find him.”

“Do you really think we’re safe out here?”

I lean in and press a kiss to her forehead. “We’re safer here than anywhere else right now. But I’m not taking anything for granted. ”

She nods but doesn’t say anything else.

The cold starts to wrap around us as the heat from the car’s engine dissipates into the air outside.

“Ready to go in?”

Lila nods, giving my hand a quick squeeze before climbing out of the car.

She leans into me as we walk to the door, and I slip my arm around her.

The moment we’re inside, I flick the lock shut behind us, then check it again. I cross the room to double-check the patio door and peek out through the shutters at the front window.

Nothing but trees. Stillness. Dark.

I turn to look at her, standing by the door, watching me.

No words pass between us. We don’t need any.

I walk up to her and kiss her – slow and firm. Her hand curls into my shirt like she’s anchoring herself to me, her other hand gliding up my chest until her fingers brush the stone around my neck.

The onyx feels warm between us, her fingers wrapping softly around the stone that’s been a part of me for my entire adult life - holding on to it like she’s trying to absorb some of its power.

Everything it stands for – Protection. Strength. Peace. I’d give it all to her in a heartbeat. I am giving it all to her.

I pull her closer, until there’s no space left between us.

She’s mine to look after now. No matter what comes.

Her body radiates heat, grounding and electrifying all at once. Her lips break apart from mine and she takes off her boots and coat, hanging it on the banister, before taking my hand and leading me up the stairs .

In the bedroom, she turns and pushes me gently down so I’m sitting on the edge of the bed. My hands settle on her hips as she steps between my legs, her fingers sliding through my hair.

I close my eyes, pressing my face to her chest, breathing her in, letting the scent of her erase everything else in my mind.

My hands slide lower, gripping her arse as I pull her closer, my mouth grazing the soft fabric of her top.

I stand, stripping off my coat and letting it fall to the floor without a second thought.

My hands find the hem of her shirt, and in one smooth motion, I’m tugging it up over her head and tossing it somewhere behind me.

I turn us around, guiding her down onto the bed, and her hands reach for me, dragging my mouth to hers with a need so desperate, as though my lips can unravel every ounce of tension coiled up inside her.

Electricity surges through me as my palm cups her breast, gently squeezing as her teeth tug at my bottom lip.

I pull back slightly, hovering over her, our eyes locked on each other, when -

CRASH.

Glass shattering.

We freeze.

My ears strain to hear any sound other than the sudden panicked thrashing of my heart.

A pause. Then – thud.

Heavy footsteps on the wooden floor at the bottom of the stairs.

My pulse spikes so fast I feel dizzy, but I force my mind to focus.

I glance wildly around the room, searching for something to use as a weapon. Nothing. Nothing useful .

I quickly grab my coat off the floor, pulling my phone from the pocket.

No signal.

I desperately try the Emergency Call button, but it doesn’t connect.

“Where’s your phone?” I whisper.

“Downstairs,” she mouths, barely audible.

Fuck.

I try to picture the shape of the moments ahead – every possibility – like a storyboard flashing before my eyes. None of it is good.

Lila is trembling beside me.

I think quickly, trying to make a plan.

“ Lila !” The voice explodes through the house like a bomb, and my blood turns to fire.

“ Lila, you best hope you’re gettin’ the shag of your fucking life up there, it’s about to be your last!” A maniacal laugh rings through the air as Lila’s jaw drops, her hand flying up to cover her mouth.