8. Anton
CHAPTER 8
ANTON
THAT SAME NIGHT – TAKEN
“ J ust let her go, Anton,” Derrick said, his eyes narrowing, frustration etched into the tense set of his jaw. He crossed his arms, shaking his head in disapproval. “You’ve already messed this up enough.”
“She’s done with you. Don’t make it worse, boss,” Nick added, his tone softer, with a hint of sympathy. He placed a hand on my shoulder, as if that might hold me back. “It’s time to let her go.”
But I couldn’t do that. I shook him off, ignoring their words as the sting of Marcie’s last look burned through me. I couldn’t just stand here and let her leave like that. There was so much I’d wanted to say. Why couldn’t I get the words out?
Marcie’s final words echoed in my mind: “I want someone who knows what they want, who isn’t afraid to claim it. I’m done waiting for you to decide if I’m worth it.” The bitterness in her tone had sliced through me, and the fury in her eyes—it left no room for doubt. I’d pushed her too far, held back too long, and now, well, she was right to give up on me. Still, I had to try again. Sort this out. She thought she wasn’t worthy. But it was me, I was the one who wasn’t worthy.
The heavy bass from the club faded behind me as I pushed through the doors into the cool night air, my heart pounding. I had to find her. I couldn’t let it end like this.
“Marcie!” I called, my voice tight with urgency as I scanned the area, pulse thundering in my ears. Her silhouette was just ahead, lit by the harsh glow of a street light, her back rigid with anger as she stormed away towards the car park area.
The sight of her retreating, putting that distance between us, sent a pang through my chest. She was pulling away, slipping out of my grasp, and for the first time, I felt a fear I’d been trying to ignore. What if this really was it? What if I’d let her slip away for good because I hadn’t been able to face what I felt?
“Marcie, wait—please!”
My eyes widened as the shadows near her moved.
“Anton!” she shouted, spinning toward me with fury and frustration flashing in her eyes. She took a step back, clearly wanting to put distance between us, but she didn’t see the danger lurking nearby.
I saw them—several men standing too close, their eyes fixed on her like predators waiting to pounce. My gut clenched.
One of them moved fast, grabbing her wrist before I could close the distance.
“Let her go!” I bellowed, my heart slamming in my chest as I surged forward.
“You’ve made this easy for us,” the guy sneered, his grip on Marcie tightening.
“Yeah, we didn’t expect to get both of you tonight. But this is a bonus,” another said, chuckling.
His words were like a punch to the gut, and I realised then—this wasn’t some random attack. They wanted Marcie… and me.
Marcie tried to pull free, her eyes wide, struggling against the man’s hold. “Anton, help!” she cried, her voice tight with panic now.
My blood boiled. “Get your hands off her,” I growled, rushing toward the guy holding Marcie.
“Not so fast,” one of the others said, stepping in my path, blocking me from reaching her. His cold gaze raked over me.
“Come quietly and neither of you will get hurt,” the guy holding Marcie said, but the glint in his eye told me that was far from the truth.
“Not a chance,” I spat out.
He smiled coldly. “You don’t have a choice.”
We’d see about that. I lunged at the nearest guy, my fist smashing into his jaw. He staggered, but before I could press my advantage, another blow struck me from behind.
The punch hit my back, but I barely flinched. Years of training kept my body in motion, absorbing the blow without losing focus. I spun quickly, redirecting the force of the strike and narrowing in on the threat. The second guy didn’t know what was coming.
Before I could reach him, another man tackled me from the side. Without thinking, I dropped low and twisted, driving my elbow into his midsection. He gasped, but I didn’t give him time to recover. I slammed him to the ground with a punch to the back of the head. He crumpled, unable to get back up.
The next one came at me fast, but I was ready. He swung, aiming for my stomach, but I absorbed the hit, my core locked in defence. The punch barely phased me, but I used the momentum to step into him, landing a quick jab to his throat, forcing him back.
Then, I heard it.
Marcie’s scream—sharp, full of terror. My heart seized, every instinct focused on her. I could hear the desperation in her voice as she struggled, fighting against the man who had grabbed her, hauling her toward a van.
My body tensed. Oh, hell no!
I charged toward Marcie, but two other men moved to block my path. How many of the fuckers were there?
Without hesitation, I slammed my fist into the gut of one, knocking the wind out of him, and followed up with an upper cut to the face of the other, sending him reeling backward. My focus was sharp, the adrenaline fuelling every strike, each movement calculated, instinctual. But as I turned to advance, Marcie’s scream sliced through the mayhem surrounding us again.
That was all it took to distract me.
A blow—hard and sudden—hit the side of my head. I didn’t even see it coming. My body went momentarily numb, the car park spinning as I stumbled. My vision blurred, and I struggled to steady myself. I blinked, trying to regain my bearings, but the ground beneath me felt like it was shifting.
I stumbled, disoriented, and dropped to my knees. My head throbbed, but my focus zeroed in on Marcie’s terrified expression as she kicked out, her hands reaching for me in desperation, trying to break free from the man holding her.
Marcie screamed my name and I roared in fury, forcing myself to my feet, adrenaline surging through me.
“I’m not letting them take you!” I shouted, charging at the man holding her again.
Just as I reached out to grab him, pain shot through my neck, sharp and sudden.
“What the—” My words slurred, my body growing heavy. The strength drained from my limbs, and I stumbled again, struggling to stay on my feet.
“Anton!” Marcie’s scream penetrated the darkness, which was closing in. I fought against the pull of unconsciousness, but the world continued to spin, blurring everything around me.
They’d drugged me. Why? Where were they taking us? And what the hell did they want?
One thought pierced through the haze of pain and fear: I’d rather die than let them hurt her. If they laid one finger on her, I’d kill them. Marcie was mine to protect and nothing, and no one, would stop me from doing so, I vowed before the darkness finally took me.