Page 55 of Anton

We made our way toward it, ducking through a gap in the wall. As we drew closer, the smell of damp wood and hay filled the air, a familiar scent that, for a moment, felt oddly reassuring.

I pushed open the door to the abandoned stables, which creaked loudly in protest, and stepped inside. Stalls lined one side of the building with what looked like a workshop built at the far end on the other side, and a hayloft above. The rest of the space was filled with old tools that lay scattered around, some rusted but still intact, and a long workbench covered in dust lined one wall. Saddles, harnesses, and leatherworking tools sat on shelves, evidence of a time when someone had spent their days crafting what was once a necessary part of life here.

Marcie stepped in behind me, her eyes scanning the space. “This place is… strange,” she said, noting the half-finished saddles hanging from the walls.

I nodded, surveying the dimly lit interior. “Looks like someone worked here a long time ago. Doesn’t seem like anyone’s been around in a while.”

Marcie nodded. “I wonder why it was abandoned,” she murmured.

“No idea, but whatever the reason, it gives us somewhere to rest,” I told her, pulling her close.

Marcie looked up at me, her voice soft. “Think we can stay here for tonight?”

“Yeah, we’ll stay here. It’s as good a place as any.” I said with a smile. It wasn’t much, but it was shelter, and that was enough for now.

Her shoulders seemed to relax a little, and she nodded, heaving a sigh of relief at us having found our refuge, at least for the night.

“Let’s try the phone now,” I said, breaking the silence as I pulled the flip phone from my pocket and headed back outside with Marcie on my heels.

I flicked open the phone, squinting at the pitiful number of bars. Still, it was better than nothing. I keyed in Marko’s number, grateful I knew it by heart, and prayed the connection would hold long enough to get through.

“Marko,” I said into the phone when I heard the faintest trace of a voice on the other end. “Marko, can you hear me? It’s Anton.” My voice came out sharper than I intended, rising with the tension coiling in my chest.

I glanced at Marcie, her gaze fixed on the phone in my hand, waiting, just as tense.

There was a long pause, and the static grew louder. I repeated his name, with more urgency this time. “Marko!”

A burst of garbled noise filtered through the line, and I swore under my breath. The connection was unreliable, but I wasn’t going to waste this opportunity.

“We’ve been kidnapped, we need help,” I continued, rushing the words out, hoping that Marko would at least get part of what I was saying. “We’re somewhere near Pozo Alcón, Sierra de Cazorla. Elizabeth Traynor is behind this. She was the MP’s lover and has taken over his hunts. Men are hunting us now… don’t trust the local police. Oh, and Marcie has her earrings.”

The connection cut off, and I cursed, clenching the phone tightly.

Marcie was huddled in the doorway of the stable in an attempt to avoid the rain that had started. “Did he hear any of that?” Marcie asked, nibbling worriedly on her lip.

I headed over to her. “Not sure, honey. I couldn’t hear a word he was saying, but he was speaking. I can only hope he got enough of my message to help. Knowing Marko, he did. Besides, by now, someone will know we’re missing. We just have to hold out until they come,” I said, gripping her hand. “And they will.”

“Let’s go in and get settled,” I told her as I guided her back inside.

Worry lingered, but I hadn’t lied, if anyone could figure out what had happened, and where we were, it was him.

The fading glow of the setting sun slipping through cracks in the old wooden walls cast a warm, amber light over the space. The place had a rustic charm, with its scattered tack and the faint, lingering scent of horses still clinging to the air. But it wasn’t just a stable anymore—it was ours, for now. A sanctuary, however fleeting, where the outside world couldn’t reach us.

Looking out of the small window, I noticed the rain had picked up even more, now coming down in a steady downpour. It didn’t look like it was going to let up anytime soon. At least that should keep the hunters at bay a while longer. Who knew how long? But for now, we were safe, hidden in this forgotten corner of the countryside.

My smile curved into a smirk as my thoughts turned wicked. There were far better ways to occupy our time than worrying about what came next.

Marcie wandered slowly around the space, tentatively touching the old bits of leather and implements of someone’s trade from another time. My gaze lingered on her, the way she moved with that quiet strength, unaware of how every small action pulled me deeper into her.

I took a step closer, unable to resist the magnetic pull between us. “You’re so beautiful, Marcie,” I murmured, the words slipping out without thinking.

Her eyes locked onto mine, something unspoken passing between us. The rain hammered down on the roof, a steady rhythm that matched the thudding in my chest.

“Come here,” I whispered, my voice hushed but thick with need. I reached for her, my hand sliding around her waist, pulling her toward an old wooden saddle rack.

My Little Miss Sassy’s breath caught as I pressed her against the wood, one hand on the back of her head, the other wrapped gently around her throat. I kissed her cheek, her jaw, her nose, her mouth, and back again, my lips moving swiftly, claiming every inch of her. Marcie’s pulse raced beneath my fingertips, the moment raw and urgent, the rush of desire between us making it impossible to hold back.

I lifted her hoodie over her head, throwing it aside, and didn’t waste a second before my hands were on her again, sliding over the fabric of her top. She tugged at my shirt tails, as eager as me to get rid of any barrier between us. I forced her top up over her head and tossed it before I cupped her breasts, squeezing them as I thrust my tongue back inside her mouth.

---