Page 36 of Anton

“Me too,” I replied, attempting to put her at ease while desperately trying not to laugh.

“We’ll head back to the river and do it nearby, then wash our hands and refill the water bottle in the stream,” I finally said, once I’d regained enough composure to look at her again without turning into a drooling idiot. I tried to keep the urgency from my voice, but my thoughts kept drifting to the danger that could be closer than I hoped. I’d believed they’d rest up for the night and then come after us again this morning, but if I was wrong and they’d travelled through the night—or even part of it—we could be in real danger. The sooner we moved on, the better.

Once we’d refilled the water bottle and handled the essentials, I scanned the unfamiliar landscape ahead, weighing our next move. Continuing downstream was still our best option, but unlike yesterday, I decided we’d stick to the shelter of the trees. The canopy would not only shield us from the harsh sunlight, but help keep us hidden from those hunting us.

We couldn’t be far from civilisation. Spain was a decent-sized country, but not so vast that we wouldn’t stumble across a village or at least a farm soon. I figured we’d either reach one or find a road leading to it within a few hours. Once we found somewhere, we’d lay low and call Miki. The Rominov’s would come get us,and then we’d deal with the psycho bitch and her hellish hunters, putting an end to them for good.

I explained the plan to Marcie, and she nodded enthusiastically, more than happy with the idea that before the end of the day, we could be safe. But still worry lingered in her eyes.

“It’s going to be okay, honey.”

Taking Marcie’s hand, I squeezed it in reassurance before heading off into the forest once more, gently tugging her along behind me. Her palm was warm in mine, a solid anchor as we moved forward.

“God, I hope you’re right,” she said, her voice small with uncertainty, her grip tightening in mine as we walked.

I hoped I was, too, but couldn’t shake off the feeling that I’d just jinxed us.

CHAPTER 15

MARCIE

DAY 2 – MORNING - THE NIGHTMARE CONTINUES

As the morning wore on, the sun hit hard, even beneath the forest canopy. The still air pressed down like a heavy blanket, oppressive and unrelenting. My boots crunched softly over dry leaves and twigs, the murmur of the river a constant companion, guiding us downstream.

Anton walked ahead, his broad shoulders leading the way. There was something unshakable about him—so strong and sure even in the face of the ever-present danger. Despite the suffocating heat and the gnawing worry that the hunters might soon catch up with us, his presence bolstered me. His unwavering confidence that we’d make it out of this alive was like a lifeline I clung to with desperate hands.

We’d been trekking for hours, and my feet were killing me. I was sure my blisters had blisters. Every step sent sharp little stabs of pain shooting up my legs, and my limping gait was becoming unsteady.

My hair clung in damp waves to the back of my neck. I pushed it over one shoulder, but a strand snagged on my earring, nearly yanking it out. Swearing under my breath, I fumbled to fix it with sweaty fingers. They were the only gift Anton had ever given me, and losing them would break my heart. My chesttightened with the thought, the humid air doing little to ease the pressure building inside me. Sweat trickled down my back, and I clenched my fists, determined to keep moving despite the fatigue clawing at my limbs.

I wanted nothing more than to stop, to rest for just a moment, but I knew we couldn’t. Not yet.

“How much longer do you think before we find something? A road, a farm, anything?” I asked, striving to keep my tone light and casual. The last thing I wanted was for Anton to pick up on how exhausted I was.

“Not sure, honey. Hopefully soon,” he replied over his shoulder, his voice low and focused.

Helpful. I rolled my eyes at his back, frustration tugging at me. Maybe if we talked for a while, it would take my mind off the pain.

“So, what made you go into the special forces?” I asked, remembering Anton hadn’t been just a regular soldier.

“The opportunity arose, and I took it,” he replied, but I knew immediately there was more to it than that. My eyes narrowed and I bit my lip as my instincts flared. There was something he wasn’t telling me. My gut told me there was a story there, one I needed to uncover. But not now. Whatever it was, it was clear he wasn’t ready to discuss it.

The silence that followed was thick with awkwardness, hard to dispel. I fished around in my mind for another topic of conversation, something—anything—to shift the unease that had settled between us.

“Well, those skills you learned in the forces are mighty useful. Is that where you got your secret agent survival belt?” I teased.

“Not quite. But I did learn to survive, and the best way to do that is to always be prepared for anything,” he said with a hint of amusement, slowing to walk beside me again.

“A bit like the Boy Scouts. Dib, dib, and all that,” I winked and gave him the scout sign with my three fingers, which was all I knew about scouts.

“I wouldn’t know—I was never a Boy Scout. Probably a good thing too, with Ash’s bad influence, not to mention the rest of the Rominovs. Even Luca, for that matter—I’d have likely been thrown out,” Anton chuckled.

My lady parts tingled, awakening at the sound. Not the time, Marcie, I reminded myself, brushing away a drop of sweat that trailed down my forehead. My clothes clung to me, my feet ached, and my bare legs chafed. This was no time to add to my discomfort by getting horny.

“So, where did you get it?” I asked, gesturing to the belt, trying to keep my eyes from drifting lower. Behave, Marcie!

“It’s my idea. Marko got it made up for me, though. This is a prototype we designed together. If it proves useful, and it seems to be, we plan on marketing something similar to the military. This type, we’ll try to market to the survivalists out there. I was going to add the hunters, but I’m definitely rethinking that idea,” he said with a wry smirk.

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