Page 48 of Anton

Panting hard, I froze, staring at the carnage in front of me. Blood and brains pooled around the remains of his shattered skull, a mess of gore that turned my stomach even as the satisfaction of vengeance lingered. When I killed up close and personal, I preferred to do so cleanly, but the bastard’s words had unleashed something primal.

I forced myself to move, grabbing the last of our water to wash the blood from my hands. Drying them on his shirt, I took his knife and rifle. He wouldn’t be needing them, but we sure as hell would.

Turning to the doorway, I scanned the area outside. It was quiet, but that didn’t mean there weren’t other hunters lurking nearby. The two quad bikes sat a short distance from us, beckoning me, but stepping beyond the stone walls would leave us exposed. Still, staying here wasn’t an option.

My stomach knotted at the thought of Marcie being put in any unnecessary danger, and I considered going out to retrieve a bike, leaving her behind until I knew it was safe for her to come out. But one look at her pale face—her eyes fixed on the second guy’s bloodied, smashed in head—made it clear that I couldn’t leave her, not even for a minute.

Her whole body trembled, and I quickly crossed the room and pulled her into my arms, holding her tightly until the shaking in her body began to subside.

“Sorry you had to see that, honey,” I murmured against her ear.

She managed a shaky smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Marcie wasn’t used to death, and my heart went out to her, but I didn’t have time to comfort her the way I wanted to.

Moving to the first hunter’s body, I pulled the thigh strap free, slid his knife back into it, and strapped it securely to Marcie’s leg beneath her dress.

“Well, I got my conceal-and-carry garter after all. Though the black is a bit boring,” she quipped, the tiny quiver in her voice betraying the upset she was trying desperately to hide.

“Next time, I’ll get you one inlaid with diamonds,” I replied with a wink, playing along and earning myself another small smile for the effort.

After grabbing the other gun and stuffing it into my waistband, I took her hand. “Let’s get to those quad bikes and get the hell out of here,” I said, scanning the area one last time before tugging her toward the bikes.

I quickly slashed the tyres of the first one with my knife, making sure it wouldn’t be of any use to anyone. Then I helped Marcie onto the second bike. Climbing on in front of her, I twisted the throttle.

“Hold on tight,” I shouted over my shoulder as the engine roared to life, shooting us forward. Marcie’s arms locked around me, holding on as we shot into the forest’s cover.

We bounced over rocks and uneven ground, zigzagging between trees, dodging fallen logs and hidden ditches. Riding the quad wasn’t easy, but it was far better than running, especially for Marcie, and we covered a lot of ground in no time.

So far, we seemed to have shaken off any pursuers, but I knew this brief respite wouldn’t last. Soon enough, we’d be facing danger again. I just hoped we could reach the village and get help before it found us.

CHAPTER 19

MARCIE

DAY 3 – MORNING – HELP IN SIGHT

My backside protested every bump and jolt as the quad bike roared over the uneven terrain, as Anton pushed it to its limits. Each impact sent shockwaves through my body, my teeth clattering together with every jolt and my fingers gripping his waist so tightly they threatened to cramp.

It wasn’t just the ride turning my stomach. Watching Anton kill those men had been… something else. I knew my sexy soldier was trained to fight, understood that his skillset included the ability to kill. But witnessing how naturally it came to him? That had been a revelation.

And maybe it was primal, maybe even twisted, but it was also a turn-on. Not the act itself—seeing someone’s life snuffed out churned my insides—but the capability. The efficiency. Anton DuPont wasn’t just dangerous; he was a precise, calculated killing machine. Cool, calm, and terrifyingly methodical.

At least, he had been—until the second guy opened his mouth and dared to threaten me. That was when the control snapped. My usually disciplined military man had turned feral, a beast driven by pure rage. He didn’t stop until my voice cut through the haze, pulling him back from his killing frenzy.

I should be scared. Any sane woman would be. Yet fear was the last thing I felt. If anything, I was more ensnared by Anton than ever.

The sex was already the most mind-blowing thing I’d ever experienced, but seeing that lethal, protective side of him? It made me ache in ways I didn’t want to over-analyse. Did that make me messed up? Probably. But I didn’t care.

I’d been obsessed with Anton for so long, desperate for more than the friendship he kept insisting was all we could have. His constant rejection had forced me to guard my heart, never truly letting myself hope for anything lasting. But the last few hours had changed everything. The way he claimed me, the way he lost himself when I was threatened—I’d handed over my heart to him completely.

If I wasn’t in love with him before, I was now. The thought should terrify me. What if he changed his mind when this was all over? It would devastate me. But deep down, I didn’t believe he would. Last night felt like a turning point, one neither of us could—or would—come back from.

“Ooof!” I yelped as the quad bike hit another deep rut, my body lifting off the seat before slamming back down.

“Sorry, honey,” Anton called over his shoulder, his voice tight with focus. “It will be easier going soon, there are fields ahead, and I think that’s the start of a village about a half mile away.”

I leaned sideways just enough to catch a glimpse of the horizon, relief washing over me. He was right—buildings peeked through the trees, marking the edge of civilisation. Finally. We were so close. A few more minutes, and we could call for help. Safety. The thought was like a balm, and my mind leapt to what came after: a long, hot soak in a bath to ease my aching muscles, followed by ritually burning this damn dress and my boots. And then? A massive, greasy cheeseburger with fries.

My stomach growled at the idea, a sharp reminder of how little we’d eaten—nothing since yesterday. Even then, it hadn’t been enough. The sooner this nightmare ended, the better. I was running on empty.

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