Page 29 of Anton

“Let go of me.” I push against Kaden, but his arms only clamp down harder.

My pulse pounds as the crowd closes in, and the noise swells until I can’t think past it. Panic tears through me, blurring the edges of my vision.

I can’t stay here. I need air.

“Let go!” I drive both palms into his chest, shoving him hard enough to send him stumbling back.

Blair spins around, drawing the attention of everyone nearby.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Kaden snaps, staring at me like I’ve lost my mind.

“Don’t talk to her like that.” Blair steps between us before he can come any closer.

The other guy says something, then both of them begin backing away.

“Fuck this,” Kaden scoffs before disappearing into the crowd with his cousin.

Blair turns to me, concern snagging at her brows. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I press my fingers to my temple. “I just…didn’t want him touching me, and he wouldn’t let go, so I… I’m going to run to the bathroom.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“No.” I shake my head. “I’ll only be a few minutes. Don’t worry. I’m fine.”

Her expression turns doubtful. “Hurry back. If you’re not here in five minutes, I’m coming after you.”

A thin laugh escapes me. “All right, Mom.”

“Shut up.” She tosses a teasing curve of her lips.

But I’m already turning away, pushing through the crowd as shoulders knock into mine and the music pounds behind me. I fight for space, for air, for anything that doesn’t make me feel trapped back there again.

I stumble through the rear exit just as the pressure in my chest becomes unbearable.

Cold air strikes my face, and I pull it into my lungs in slow, practiced breaths, bracing both palms against the brick wall.

He’s dead. He can’t hurt you.

I repeat the words until they lose all meaning, because all I can see is the hatred in his eyes as he tore at my clothes.

Hot tears spill down my cheeks. It’s been months since I’ve cried like this, when the memory of that night was too much to bear, and I hate that. I hate giving him that kind of power over me. He’s nothing.

I wipe furiously at my face, angry with myself for letting him take another piece of me, but the tears only fall faster until a sob tears free.

“Why are you crying?”

I gasp at the sudden deep rasp behind me, because there’s no way he’s here. No way the one man I shouldn’t want is somehow the only person who makes it possible to breathe again.

I weave in his direction, needing to know whether I imagined him, but he’s standing right in front of me. His tousled hair falls over his forehead, the low light accenting every hard line of his face while his eyes remain fixed on me.

He steps closer, gaze dark and intense, before lifting my chin with the back of his hand. “I asked you a question, Thora. Why are you crying?”

ANTON

“It’s nothing.” She fakes a smile that anyone would see through.

Does she think I’m an idiot?