The Ant Hill Project.

Chapter 19. Breaking point

The following day, Antonio’s uneasy feelings began to manifest more prominently as he found himself in the office with Griffin. They were sifting through files and reports, the atmosphere thick with tension as they discussed the stagnation of the investigation. The clock ticked loudly in the silence, each second amplifying the growing sense of dread in the pit of Antonio's stomach.

“Antonio,” Griffin said, breaking the silence. She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms with a concerned expression. “I’ve noticed something off with you lately. You’ve seemed… distracted. Are you okay?”

Antonio forced a smile, trying to dismiss her concern. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a lot on my mind with the case.”

Griffin studied him, her brow furrowing. “It’s more than just the case. I can see it. You’re not sleeping well, are you?”

His stomach twisted at the thought of her probing further. “I’m just dealing with a few things at home, that’s all,” he replied, his voice slightly shaky.

“What things?” she pressed, her tone gentle yet persistent. “You know I’m here for you, right? You can talk to me about anything.”

Panic surged through Antonio. He couldn’t explain the turmoil that had become his new normal. The way he had started to question his own mind, the unsettling images of Steven lurking just beneath the surface of his awareness. Instead of clarity, all he felt was a suffocating confusion.

“I… I appreciate that, Griffin,” he stammered, avoiding her gaze. “But it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Griffin narrowed her eyes, clearly not convinced. “Just be careful, Antonio. You’re not alone in this, remember?”

Antonio nodded, though her words only deepened the gnawing anxiety in his chest. He excused himself, desperate to escape the suffocating atmosphere of the office. The drive home was a blur, his thoughts racing. He could almost feel Griffin's eyes on him, her concern echoing in his mind.

By the time he reached the apartment, the walls felt like they were closing in. He slammed the door behind him and leaned against it, his heart pounding in his chest. “What the hell is happening to me?” he whispered to himself, frustration bubbling over.

He stepped into the living room, where Steven was sprawled on the couch, engrossed in a book. The sight of him stirred something primal within Antonio—a mix of love, desperation, and confusion. He wanted to throw his arms around Steven, to lose himself in the comfort of his touch, but a darker thought crept into his mind.

Antonio’s heart raced as he paced the room, his internal struggle intensifying. He had buried so many unsettling thoughts about Steven, but they clawed their way to the surface, the tension between them palpable. Every moment felt like a precarious balance, one wrong move threatening to shatter the fragile peace they had built.

“Hey, you okay?” Steven looked up, concern etched across his face.

“I’m fine,” Antonio snapped, the words spilling out harsher than intended. “I just… need some space.”

“Sure. Just let me know if you want to talk,” Steven replied softly, returning his attention to the book.

The quiet hum of the room was deafening. Antonio felt like he was trapped in a cage, and with every second, the walls closed in tighter. The unease within him twisted into something darker, something that whispered insidious thoughts in the back of his mind.

Suddenly, a wild idea formed in his thoughts, and with it came a rush of adrenaline. He needed to break free. He needed to reclaim his agency. In a moment of panic, he grabbed a kitchen knife from the counter, his hands shaking as he gripped the cold metal.