An unexpected love || Ant x Stephen

The Accident- Chapter nineteen

The late evening air in London was usually a comfort to Ant—a chance to decompress after a day of high-energy meetings and frantic production schedules. But tonight, the air felt heavy. He had spent the entire day itching to get back to Stephen, his heart aching with the peculiar kind of homesickness that only strikes when you realize you've found "the one."

After waving Dec off with a tired smile, Ant had lingered to finish the last of the paperwork. By the time he snapped his laptop shut, the clock in the corner of his screen mocked him: 7:30 PM.

As he stepped out of the office, his phone buzzed. A text from Stephen.

Stephen: Hey, how long are you going to be? x 

Ant: Sorry, lost track of time! Just left, should be home in about 30 minutes. x

Ant tucked the phone into his pocket, deciding a brisk walk through the park would be faster than waiting for a cab in the evening congestion. It was a route he'd taken a hundred times, but tonight, the shadows beneath the trees seemed longer, more jagged.

The shortcut through the park was quiet—too quiet. Near a cluster of darkened benches, two men stepped into his path. At first, Ant thought they were just looking for a handout. He reached for his pocket to find some loose change, but the vibe shifted instantly.

"Give us your wallet, big man," one of them rasped. He recognized Ant; he could see the flash of recognition in the man's eyes, followed by a cruel, jagged sort of greed.

"I don't want any trouble," Ant said, his voice steady despite the hammer of his heart against his ribs. "Just let me pass."

"he said give it over!" the other barked, lunging forward.

Ant stood his ground, but he was outnumbered and caught off guard. A fist connected with his jaw, the force of it sending him spiraling to the gravel path. Pain exploded behind his eyes. He tried to scramble up, but a heavy boot found his ribs. He heard a sickening crack, and the breath vanished from his lungs.

He braced for the robbery, but then came the words that chilled him more than the cold ground. One of the men leaned down, grabbing Ant by the collar of his coat, his breath hot and foul against Ant's ear.

"I know about you and that Mulhern lad," the man hissed. "Saw you lot. Disgusting."

Ant's world tilted. He wasn't out. Only Dec knew. The realization that he was being targeted not just for his money, but for who he loved, sent a wave of nausea through him.

"Maybe this will knock the gay out of you," the man sneered, delivering one final, brutal blow to Ant's temple.

They stripped him of his wallet and his watch, leaving him crumpled on the path, gasping for air that wouldn't come.

Ant's fingers were slick with blood as he fumbled for his phone. The screen was a spiderweb of cracks, but the backlight flickered to life. He didn't call the police. He didn't call Dec. He pressed the one contact that felt like safety.

"Ant? Where are you? The pasta's nearly done," Stephen's cheerful voice filled the line, but it was quickly replaced by sharp alarm. "Ant? Anthony, talk to me."

"Stevie..." Ant choked out, a sob threatening to break through the pain. "The park. Help. Please."

Stephen arrived in what felt like seconds, though it must have been minutes. He found Ant slumped against a brick wall near the park exit, his face a mosaic of purple bruises and crimson smears.

"Oh god, Ant!" Stephen screamed, dropping to his knees. He didn't care about the blood staining his own clothes. He checked Ant's pulse, his hands shaking violently. "What happened? Who did this?"