*＊✿❀ Chapter Six ❀✿＊*

The crisp coldness made Freya shudder as she stepped from her car, relieved to be home. She'd dropped Marcia off on the way back, discretely leaving her around the corner from her house.

Leaving her new friend alone was difficult, she feared for her well-being, particularly after witnessing her having a nightmare. Marcia acted like the kind of woman who had it all together, but Freya was sure there was much more to the blonde than she let on. Nobody was that perfect.

It comforted Freya a little to know that Marcia had far more friends and family than Freya herself did, so that was something.

The Winter sun shimmered down onto the Australian's car. It didn't make her feel any warmer. This British weather was worse than she'd expected. The darker the days got, the moodier everybody around her seemed to be.

Shivering, Freya entered her home to find her two cousins sat on separate sofas in the living room.

"Welcome home, Frey," greeted Brooke.

On the other sofa was Chloe. She was Brooke's older sister. Chloe had been in a toxic relationship back in Melbourne and a fight with her ex boyfriend had led to her voice box being destroyed and now she was unable to speak. Freya's conversations with her were usually written down on paper.

Freya had told the sisters that she'd been away on business; a secret mission that she couldn't speak about. Well, it wasn't a lie and they didn't know Jack so it was unlikely they'd ever know she wasn't telling the whole truth. She had always been the kind of person to find loopholes in everything, her mind just worked in that way.

"Hey. How's it going?" Freya replied with a warm smile.

Chloe took her pen and began scribbling down words. Freya had meant to learn sign language to make their interactions easier, but it hadn't happened yet. She'd attempted lessons once or twice but it wasn't easy for her to pick up. She wasn't very good at learning new things, not with her lack of concentration.

"I thought you'd been kidnapped by your mad ex before you sent us that text saying you were okay," wrote Chloe.

"No!!! As if I'd let myself get kidnapped." Freya laughed it off loudly. She was almost-convincing at a fake-laugh.

"Has she been texting you still?" questioned Brooke. The small nineteen year old peered up at her cousin with interest.

"No, I told her to leave me alone. She's in the UK though. No idea if she followed me here or I just have really bad luck?"

Since setting foot in the UK, Freya had been receiving text messages from her Australian ex girlfriend, Adrianna Lewisham. The sisters didn't know much about the mystery woman, only that she was bad news and had broken Freya's heart. That was enough for both of them to want her well away from their cousin. Blocking Adrianna's number was never a good enough plan. She would just find a new phone. Sometimes it had felt like there was no escaping her.

Freya would never describe her ex girlfriend as 'crazy', just persistent and a little too ruthless at times. Their history was messy and the brunette wanted to stay as far from her as possible, despite once loving her so deeply.

"Probably both," mouthed Chloe, in response to Freya's question.

Brooke rolled her eyes. "We don't want Adriana in our lives anymore. She and Chloe's ex are the reason we left Melbourne. You two and your terrible taste." Brooke was too smart, she would never get herself into such a toxic relationship as the other two had.

"We don't all have your intelligence, Brooke," Chloe signed to her sister. Brooke had been intelligent enough to pick sign language up quickly.

"You don't have to tell me that, Brooky. I don't want her anywhere near me." Freya paused. "Anyway, speaking of bad taste, I need to jet round and see Jack."

With narrowed eyes, Brooke questioned, "Are you dating him?"

Freya's eyes widened in embarrassment. "Ew, no. He's way too serious for me. Not my type in that way." She shook it off quickly with fear of entering another relationship after Adrianna. Maybe she did have feelings for Jack, but again, she wasn't entirely lying either. He wasn't her type.

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Freya's wavy locks had been put up into a perfectly sculpted ponytail. Pretty earrings hung down her ears and a pale blue top with jeans covered her slender figure. After feeling dirty in a caravan for a few days, she sure was happy to be able to make herself look good again.

The Australian reached out her hand and knocked on the wooden door in front of her. The houses in Trecco Bay weren't modern by any means, but they were expensive. It certainly wasn't the cheapest place in Wales to live. The Reyes' house was one of the largest in the area. It needed to be with all of those adopted siblings growing up under one roof. It was much bigger than the house Freya had been able to afford down the road.

"Jack!" Freya beamed, happy to see his face looking back at her after he'd opened the door. Excited energy oozed from her features and a big sparkling smile grew on her lips. Going to his place was a bit of a lottery, she never knew who was going to open the door. She could only hope it wasn't Cassandra. Jack's eldest sibling scared her a little, even more so after listening to Marcia dreaming about the woman.

"You sound better," he noted with a smile that shone from his eyes to hers.

Jack took care of his staff the best he could, but his protection extended when it came to Freya. She'd been one of the few people to sit and listen to him after Alana's death. Everybody was busy fussing over Cassandra since she was Alana's only biologically-related sibling. People only cared about him when it was to find out what was going on with the investigation. But not Freya. Freya had genuinely cared about him. She would ask him how he was every single day.

"You know what these viruses are like, they end as quick as they start. And you can imagine how crazy I went locked up inside, home alone. I'm pretty sure I started talking to myself," Freya lied. Her words were spoken in a lively tone; fast-paced and full of vibrancy.

She paused for a second, before moving suddenly, taking a step forward to wrap her arms around him. She did it before she was able to stop herself, but she'd been craving it ever since his phone call.

"What's this for?" he chuckled, embracing her back. Freya stepped back again just as quickly and brushed a few loose strands of hair behind her ear.

"Sorry. I don't know. To say sorry for missing work and to thank you for checking if I was okay, I guess. I'm not really used to people noticing I'm gone." That last sentence wasn't a lie. Despite her fun and bubbly personality, everybody always cared about somebody else more and forgot about her.

Jack's room was small. Not something you'd expect from a thirty-one year old, but he was still living at home with his family. Freya supposed he'd been a gentleman and let his siblings have the bigger rooms, especially after glancing into Cassandra's by accident one night.

He had a double bed against the window and a couple of artistic pictures on the wall. Freya didn't know much about art, unless it was Van Gogh. Van Gogh had been a love of hers since she'd seen 'Sunflowers' at the age of fourteen. Something about it had connected with her.

"I always like your room," Freya noted out loud. "It makes me feel all relaxed."

"Good," Jack chuckled. He was well-built with broad shoulders. He looked like a detective. His brown hair was of average length for a man and his blue orbs were striking. Not to mention women adored his Scottish accent. If Freya was going to go there romantically she knew it would be a fight.

After an awkward gaze at one another, Jack changed the subject. Not all had been simple whilst Freya had been away and he wanted to fill her in before she heard it from somebody else. "I'm sure you don't want to speak about work on a Saturday, but we think there's been another attack, of some sort."

Freya gasped immediately. She could feel knots in her stomach and goosebumps under her skin. She rubbed her arms and sat down on the man's bed; her breathing becoming uneasy. "Who?" she questioned softly; her energy disappearing abruptly.

"A man named Gary Lloyd. He was taken to hospital a couple of days ago with head injuries. It's bad. Really bad. He can't remember what happened to him and the nurses aren't sure he's going to make it."

"You think it was definitely an attack?" Now was the correct time for Freya to swallow her fears and act as confident as ever. It was a difficult act to pull off, but somehow she managed it. "I think I recognise the name. What does he look like?"

"I don't know, I only saw a photo. Ginger hair, larger than average. And he's Welsh."

"Don't know any gingers, must've been thinking of another Gary," mumbled Freya, a little awkwardly. Her awkwardness wasn't suspicious though, Jack was used to that side of her.

"Well you'll know more about him soon enough. We'll need you to get onto that when you're back in work on Monday. You're going to have to stalk the hell out of his socials and quickly. We need more information soon in case...the worst case scenario happens."

Freya gulped when Jack wasn't watching; her face turning nearly as white as snow. Her breaths had sped up so quickly that it felt like her heart was about to push its way out of her chest.

There was no doubt in her mind. It was him; Marcia's kidnapper. Worst case scenario, he'd die and they'd have killed him. Best case scenario, he'd survive but with no memories and possible brain damage. Who was she kidding? There was no best case scenario, this was a mess that was never going to be fixed.

Freya had felt intense guilt before, but never like this. As Jack exited the room to get some drinks, the woman felt heavy breaths rapidly escape her mouth, turning into some sort of panic attack. Her chest was burning fiercely like a fire and her mind was dazed; struggling to steady her thoughts. Even trying to throw logic at the situation wasn't going to help her now, nor her much-loved loopholes.

"I don't know what to do," she muttered to herself, tearfully.

It felt as though the world was on her shoulders and for the rest of her life she would never be able to shake it off.

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Writer's notes:
I think I forgot to mention that this is a slow burn!!
How do you think Freya will cope now that she knows the man she hurt has been found?
Will she tell Marcia even though they're supposed to be staying away from one another?

Interactive question:
Who is your favourite artist?