Page 18 of Anton

“Marcie, you’re a catch! Any guy in his right mind would be happy to date you, and you deserve to meet someone who’ll treat you properly,” Derrick’s boyfriend chimed in, his tone light yet insistent.

His words hit harder than the fists in the ring.

“Come on, Marcie. Just think of it as a fresh start,” Derrick continued, his enthusiasm for the idea unwavering.

But before I could respond, I noticed Anton a few steps away. His posture stiffened as he overheard our conversation, a shadow of irritation crossing his face. My stomach flipped as he started making his way toward us.

“Marcie, can I talk to you for a second?” His voice was low, almost a growl, cutting through the noise of the fight.

“Uh, sure,” I replied, forcing a smile as I stepped away from Derrick and Nick. My heart hammered in my chest, uncertainty swirling.

Anton pulled me aside, his body radiating warmth, and the intensity of his gaze pinned me in place. “I heard you’re going on a date tomorrow night. Is that true?”

“Yeah, I am,” I replied, crossing my arms defensively, trying to steady my breathing despite the heat of his proximity. I wasn’t sure about it, but I wasn’t about to tell him that.

His brow furrowed, annoyance slipping into his voice. “What do you know about this guy?”

“Enough. I met him at one of the events I…”

“Who is he? What does he do?” Anton interrupted, his voice sharp, his eyes narrowing.

“That’s really none of your business,” I told him, my hackles rising. My heart raced, frustration bubbling under the surface.

“Didn’t you learn anything from last time?” Anton’s tone was low, but there was an edge to it that made me bristle.

“What?” I snapped, my hands moving to my hips as my body stiffened.

“You’re not going out with some random guy who could do anything to you. I won’t let you!” Anton raised his voice, practically screaming at me, his fists clenched at his sides.

“You won’t let me? Seriously? What the fuck, Anton?” I couldn’t believe the audacity of him.

“Shit. I’m fucking this up,” he muttered, running a frustrated hand through his hair, his eyes momentarily closing in exasperation.

“You certainly are!” I retorted, my voice rising with anger.

How dare he question me like this?

“You have no say in who I date or don’t date, Anton,” I shot back, trying to push him away emotionally as much as physically.

“Like hell!” His voice was a growl, thick with frustration.

“You are not my dad. Hell, you’re not even my bodyguard anymore, and you sure as heck are not my boyfriend. You made sure of that.” My voice cracked, the strain of shouting the truth slicing through me. “So, you have no right to interfere in my life.”

In an instant, his hand clamped around my arm, his grip unyielding, anger flashing in his eyes.

“No right? No right!” His voice was taut, barely restrained as he gave me a slight shake. “I have every right. I… I…”

“You what, Anton?” The words burst out, my anger sharp and relentless. I yanked my arm free, glaring at him. “You’re the one who pushed me away! You made it clear you weren’t interested.”

His eyes darkened, and for a moment, I saw the war raging within them—a fighter caught between striking and holding back. He hesitated, his voice dropping, quieter now but still tinged with frustration. “You don’t understand, Marcie. I want to… but I just…”

“Stop sending mixed signals! It’s tearing me apart,” I snapped, my chest tightening, heart pounding.

He swallowed hard, blinking, but said nothing. The silence was deafening, the battle in his eyes painfully clear, but I was done waiting.

“You either want me, or you don’t, Anton. It’s that simple,” I said, my voice cracking as emotion clawed its way to the surface.

“It’s not, Marcie…” His voice faltered, and he dragged a hand through his hair, his frustration spilling over.

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