A Business Pleasure

Chapter 30: Poison

Not my best work and I really rushed the editing 🥴 sorry guys, hope you enjoy ❤️

It had been a long time since Ant had woken up feeling as awful as he did. The pain running through his limbs was unfamiliar, a light buzz seemed to trouble the ends of every nerve in his body.

The throbbing in his head and agony in his shoulder felt unmistakably recognisable, and for some unexplainable reason... that was comforting to him.

Ant's blue eyes fluttered open, his back seizing up as he tried to move. Whether he was, it was uncomfortable and cold. He must've been laying there for hours considering how his body protested to the uncomfortable position he'd curled up in on the concrete floor.

Thoughts ran hazily through Ant's mind but they were unorganised and messy. Using his elbows, the dark haired man made an effort to push his achey body up but the sudden dizziness had him falling back down and gagging.

The world was fuzzy and distorted. Ant tried to blink through the nausea and get up again but the soreness and grip around his wrists had him stopping.

Blue eyes flickered open and fixed on a blurry brown mass coiled around his wrists, making Ant panic. Fear had him jerking up, scrambling to his knees and consequentially rejecting the contents of his stomach in one go.

Anthony coughed and spluttered as the gagging died down and the burning in his throat overpowered his senses. The process of vomiting so violently enabled the weak man to regain some short of awareness to his surroundings but also intensified the pain of his bullet wound.

The fog in his mind cleared slowly and Ant managed to drag his eyes across the windowless concrete room. It was empty, bar one wooden table and one steel door that locked from the outside.

A small sense of relief fluttered in Ant's chest, he wasn't in his old room.

That moment however could only last so long, and the relief drained into fear when Ant's eyes landed on a single empty needle left discarded on the floor.

He scrambled to it, grimacing as the bloody point made the side of his neck react in a sudden jolt of pain.  Hesitantly, Ant brought the needle up to his nose and almost threw up again at the stench of poison on the end and the realised that depending on how long the drug had been in his system, he had just minutes left to live.

Anyone else would've felt hopelessness, anyone else would've lost themselves to panic until they eventually rolled over and died.

Not Ant, he had promised Declan he'd come back to him. He'd promise him himself that all of this would be over soon and he'd grow old with the flawless smaller man.

Declan.

The sudden burst of love for the billionaire who rescued the scared lonely teenager from a life of damnation all those years ago had Ant stumbling to the door, supporting himself unsteadily against the wall and rattling the knob.

Locked.

With a moment of agony in his chest that bubbled like defeat on his tongue, Ant slumbed weakly on his two shaky legs and looked hopelessly around the table.

He was tired, exhausted and the poison sent a shot of nausea through him at every moment but he carried on. He pushed off the wall and after a deep breath and sharp yell, he slammed a perfectly aimed kick into the joint of the table leg, weakening it enough to tug the leg from the large wooden top and smirk at the screw sticking up out of the end sharply.