*＊✿❀ Chapter Three ❀✿＊*

"Mmmmm," she tried to utter below the tape stuck over her mouth.

Marcia Lovelace had never expected her life to come to this. Sat on a wooden seat, locked up in a smelly, old barn.

Her life had always been normal and undramatic. Like most, she went to school, college, university. Then she became a paramedic and that was it.

That was her story.

Her eyes fixated on the other woman's. The blonde was trembling with fright despite doing her best to attempt to compose herself.

"Marcia?" the stranger said, causing her to squint with confusion.

She watched as Freya walked over and took the tape from her mouth. She was impressed by how the woman did it softly for something that was never not going to be painful.

"You know my name?" asked Marcia. Her eyes wandered down Freya's suit. "Are you a detective?"

Freya replied, "Yes, I know your name, but not exactly," whilst fighting with the rope that had clasped the blonder woman's hands together. 'My name's Freya though. Hi." Awkward, as always.

"He didn't lock me in, so I know he'll be back. We're going to have to hurry," Marcia spoke in a panic. The adrenaline of finally escaping was flowing freely through her veins. That didn't stop her intense fear though.

"Who's 'he'?"

"I'll tell you later." Marcia sighed and followed Freya out of the barn door. "Let's just get out of here first."

The blonde gripped hold of Freya's hand as they walked out to the barn. She hadn't had a proper meal in two weeks so her strength wasn't quite there. Still, Marcia was one of those people who kept going even when she felt rough. As a paramedic, she had to be. Peoples lives were in her hands on a daily basis.

As the two stepped quickly from the barn, hand in hand, it became obvious that they weren't alone. The sound of somebody squelching in the muddy grass turned into feet running across the footpath.

Marcia cried, "I can't run fast enough."

Freya's eyes flashed around, halting on a large rock. "Weapons," she breathed out to herself. This is what people did in films, right? The younger woman picked the rock up and hurried to catch up with Marcia.

The duo ran as quickly as possible in the direction of her car but the footsteps behind them were speeding up. They were close, maybe only a metre or two away now.

Marcia's run faltered and that was when she felt an arm slide around her chest and pull her backwards.

Freya dropped her rock in horror and spun around on her feet to see a manly figure stood there. He was a little overweight with a ginger beard to match his small amount of ginger hair. His clothes were muddy, he certainly wasn't dressed to impress. Marcia's best friend, Carmen, had always said that men who wore shorts in the Winter couldn't be trusted. The blonde could believe that now.

"You're both coming back with me," the man announced in his gruff voice.

Freya replied without thinking, "We're definitely not." Then she walked forwards and threw her foot at him, forcing her heel to pierce as far into the skin of his leg as her strength could manage.

Marcia felt her body drop to the floor as the man nursed his pain. She crawled over to the rock and threw it up in the direction of his stomach without much accuracy.

Just milliseconds after it had hit him, she watched with dazed eyes as Freya pushed the man away forcefully with her elbow. Marcia hoped it would give them time to run, but it looked like they were going to get even more time than necessary.

Fearing the worst when the man's head hit against the lamppost beside them, Marcia tentatively climbed to her feet and looked over the body. It had fallen to the floor and hit against the cold pavement, now sprawled out, motionless. Her eyes slowly turned to Freya in horror, noticing the brunette standing motionless in shock.

Marcia took a deep breath and dipped down carefully beside the man in an attempt to listen to his heartbeat. "Gosh," she breathed out.

"Please don't say it," Freya cried. Whilst Marcia's expressions remained calm, Freya's were full of panic.

"We're leaving now." When Freya didn't move, Marcia said an assertive, "Now." The blonde woman glanced around quickly, taking note that there were no CCTV cameras in sight. Why would there be? It was the middle of no where.

The fear coursed up her chest. The only thing she could be thankful for was that she was used to seeing dead bodies. She assumed he was dead anyway, but there was a chance she was wrong.

Feeling his pulse would have been more effective but there was no way she was putting her fingerprints all over the man's wrist.

As they ran away, every inch of Freya was shaking, but Marcia didn't have time to try and make her feel better.

"We didn't touch him, did we?" Marcia questioned, suddenly fearing the worst. "With our fingers, I mean. Fingerprints."

Freya stayed speechless, getting into her car with tears rolling down her eyes. "No. I-I don't think so."

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Marcia sat in the caravan in silence with Freya beside her. On the quiet drive away from the body, they'd decided they needed a place to stay for a few days whilst they worked out their next steps. If they went back home now everybody would notice there was something wrong.

They wouldn't be able to hide their emotions.

The static caravan was small; only one bedroom. It had a nice living room with a kitchen beside it. Then there was a small bathroom with a shower opposite the bedroom. That was about all there was to it. It was all they'd had left in the caravan park at immediate notice but it was better than nothing.

The two women had discussed just coming clean to the police multiple times but both were certain they still wouldn't be believed. After all, they'd probably killed somebody. Self defence or not, there was still a high chance that they'd taken a life.

Most of the journey to the caravan was a blur now, but Marcia was sure they'd taken the right precautions at the time.

"We need to get you some food," Freya spluttered out in an attempt to break the silence.

Marcia replied, "I can't eat right now." Her head had collapsed against the caravan window. The blonde was so weak from lack of nutrition but eating was the last thing she felt like doing after all of this. "You need to phone somebody and tell them you're safe. They'll start wondering where you are."

Freya nodded. "I'll...I'll text Jack, my friend. I mean, my boss. And my cousins. What about y-you? Will you tell someone you're okay?"

"Not yet," she exhaled with certainty. "They'll ask questions."

Freya nodded. "Duah. Wow, it's like this has lost me some brain cells."

"It probably has." Even in this horrendous situation, Marcia's words were still spoken elegantly.

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Twenty four hours of the worst possible kind of small talk had passed by and Marcia could feel that they were both on edge. Here she was, in a caravan with a stranger who had saved her life. She knew she should be acting more thankful, but the majority of her previous thoughts had been frozen still and replaced with worry and disgust over the thought of potentially killing an actual, real life person.

The caravan site had a small shop where Freya had wandered off to get supplies. Eventually Marcia had eaten some toast and gained enough energy to make conversation. "Why did you come looking for me on your own? You put yourself in danger."

"I'm stupid, I know. But nobody else was doing anything. Your friend, Carmen, knew there was something wrong and I had a really bad feeling. I couldn't stand the thought that you might be in danger. And I was right...you were. Who knows what those bogan psychopaths would've done to you if I didn't get there."

"Those psychopaths," repeated Marcia with an expressionless face. "One of whom we may have killed. Sadistic, or not." Sadness grew on her features as she reached the end of her sentence. "Aren't you the police? Can't you go back to them and explain what's happened?"

"Well I'm sorta new and I'm not supposed to stray from the office. They wouldn't listen to me even if I tried. It's not the best option, trust me." Freya was trying to wriggle around telling anybody more than Marcia was. The blonde did wonder why, but supposed Freya was little more than scared. "Why did they kidnap you? Do you know?"

"They kept saying I'd heard something. I expect they must have been by Alana's grave talking about it. And then I rocked up with my earphones in, oblivious. I didn't hear a thing, but of course they wouldn't believe me when I told them that. Besides, by then they'd already taken things too far. They didn't want me going to the police." She exhaled. "Now they'll know I've escaped and they'll know I'm the one who caused this man harm."

"It wasn't you. If anything it was me. And the way I see it is they won't be able to explain that without telling the whole world they kidnapped you in the first place."

Marcia's gaze went past the other woman. "So what do we do?"

"We don't tell anyone anything. Not even the people closest to us. We just act like everything's fine. No explanations." Freya paused, suddenly changing the conversation seconds later. "We should go into Port Talbot this arvo and pick you up some new clothes. Both of us, actually. I don't fancy sleeping in this suit again."

Marcia nodded at the clothes suggestion. She would be thrilled to get out of the clothes she'd been kidnapped in. "When the police question why a man's potentially dead and I've suddenly rocked up again, what should I say?"

"You we're visiting distant relatives. They were very sick."

Marcia was surprised by how quick Freya was coming to terms with this. At least, she was until she looked deeper into the brunette's eyes for a second longer only to realise she was pretending. Presumably for Marcia's sake, but she couldn't be sure.

"My family would never fall for it."

"An old school friend?"

Marcia nodded, she supposed that might work. It wasn't great but it was all she had. "What did you tell work?"

"Just that I'm as sick as a dog so can't make it in for the rest of the week. Simple yet effective," Freya replied. It wouldn't be the first time she'd pulled a sickie.

Marcia took a deep breath and passed Freya a surreptitious glance.

She wanted to ask her if she was okay but the answer was obvious and the question was more difficult to ask than it should have been.

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Writer's note:
Do you think they can get away with this long term?

Interactive question:
What's your favourite TV show right now?