Page 52 of Anton

Marcie shot me a sidelong glance—it was now or never.

CHAPTER 21

MARCIE

DAY 3 – LATER THAT MORNING – BLOODY VENGEANCE

The detective’s door slammed shut, the sound echoing unnervingly in the still night. My pulse thundered as I shot a glance at Anton. His face was carved from stone, his expression calm yet laced with something deadly.

I could feel my own fear clawing at me, but Anton’s steady gaze locked onto mine, wordlessly urging me to hold on.

Then the detective’s voice cut through the tension like a blade.

“Out. Both of you. Now.”

Anton opened the door slowly, raising his hands in the air as if complying. My heart pounded harder, the pulse in my ears deafening as I kept my gaze fixed on him. He didn’t flinch, didn’t look rattled. His eyes flicked to me, a silent message passing between us: He had a plan.My chest tightened at the look in his eyes—calm yet dangerous—and it took everything I had not to panic.

“You too,” the detective said, motioning to me and taking his eyes off Anton for a split second.

In that instant, Anton spun, faster than I could register. He reached for the detective’s gun, grabbing the barrel with a brutal twist. The detective’s eyes widened in shock, but before he couldreact, Anton drove his fist into the man’s jaw. The detective crumpled to the ground with a sickening thud, gasping for breath, his weapon falling from his grip.

Anton was on him in a heartbeat, but I didn’t have time to process what happened next as the driver’s hand shot through the open car door, his fingers closing around my wrist with a vice-like grip.

“Come out, bitch,” he sneered. His breath reeked, making me want to gag as he pulled me toward him, yanking my arm hard enough to make me cry out. “I told you I was going to make you scream, and I’ll enjoy every minute of it,” the sick bastard taunted.

My eyes flew to where Anton was wrestling with the detective.

The bastard pulled me to him, holding me close with one hand while his other hand groped at my breast, his voice a lecherous growl. “You’re going to beg for it, sweetheart.”

I gagged, disgust twisting my stomach, but something inside me snapped. I wouldn’t let this happen. I dug my knee into the man’s groin with all the strength I had left, and he cursed, loosening his grip just long enough for me to break free.

Reaching for my knife, I pulled the blade and buried it deep in the man’s shoulder, twisting it in spiteful fury. His scream split the night air, and he staggered back. Pulling the knife from his shoulder, the man glared at me, his eyes full of vengeful promise.

“You think that’s a knife?” he asked, his tone full of amusement as he tossed it aside.

“This is a knife,” he said, pulling a massive hunting knife from his boot.

My eyes widened at the sight.Fuck!My pulse hammered in my throat, and then the world seemed to narrow to the glinting blade in his hand.

Brandishing the knife, he lunged towards me, growling, “You little whore, you’ll pay for that.”

A blur of movement caught my eye as Anton ran towards him, fists flying, with a fury in his eyes that sent a chill down my spine at the same time as it warmed my heart. They crashed to the ground, Anton straddling the guy as he bucked and flailed. But it was no use; Anton was like a feral beast again, and that beast had come out to protect me. It was both a frightening and exhilarating thought.

The man’s grunts of pain merged with the sharp crack of bone as Anton snapped his wrist. I winced at the sound but couldn’t tear my eyes away as, with brutal efficiency, Anton severed the guy’s hand with the hunting knife.

“That’s for touching my woman, you fucking perverted bastard,” Anton screamed in the guy’s face before sticking the knife straight into his eye, cutting off the man’s screams almost instantly. His eyes were wild, his breath coming in short, sharp pants, and his whole body shook with unrestrained fury.

My own breathing was erratic as I stood there, eyes wide with shock, watching my Mr Sexy Soldier defend me in such a horrific, yet savagely protective, way.

It felt like forever before Anton rose, his body drenched in blood, his chest still heaving.

“Check the boot, Marcie, see if there’s anything useful,” Anton said, his voice low and strained, as if he was still battling to regain control. “I’ll deal with them,” he added, his tone sharp.

I was shaking, my body still in shock, but I did as he said, doing my best to ignore the sounds of something heavy being dragged and muffled grunts. I opened the trunk, the smell of blood thick in the air, and rifled through it, grabbing anything that might help us.

Inside a bag, I found a torch, some bottles of water, and a couple of chocolate bars along with some extra clothes. When Anton came over, I tossed some at him.

“Thanks, honey,” he said, as he began to strip down, his movements methodical. Despite the situation, my lady parts tingled as my gaze lingered on his muscular bum and sculpted physique while he stood with his back to me, pulling on trousers. Well, I might have had a near-death experience, but I wasn’t dead yet.

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