Missing [ST]

Thirty Eight

A/N:

Sorry to do another note, but this is a little warning. There's mentions of blood, so pls don't all pass out on me :/

And pls don't hate me...🫢

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"Wakey wakey Stevie T."

Steven gasped as freezing cold water pulled him from his drugged slumber.

Body tense with the temperature shock, he went to wipe his drenched face, but found his hands were tied tightly behind his back, and the same went for his ankles.

Bound to a chair, he furiously blinked away the droplets on his eyelashes, water soaking through his clothes and dripping from his hair, and squinted at Matty placing a bucket down on the concrete floor. Anton was in the corner too, smoking away, and sent him a personal, icy glare.

"What did you do to me?" Steven spluttered, catching his breath.

"Nothing." Matty shrugged innocently hoisting up a wooden stool with ease. He'd discarded the overcoat, and had rolled a pristinely white shirt to his elbows that showed off an expensive Rolex on his left wrist. "Yet."

To say Steven was scared was an understatement. He was tied up so he could barely move, and zip ties were cutting into his wrists and knocking his ankles together. There were two guys with a lot more experience than him, and not to mention they both despised him. And he had no concept of how long he'd been out, where he was, and there was no chance that anyone else would know.

When Matty revealed a pocket knife in hand and flipped the blade with a clean flick, the sick fucker looked turned on by the trembling reaction it caused. It made Steven shiver, and he rocked the chair so it moved an inch to one side. Anything, to try and get away.

Matty tutted a few times, shaking his head. He had taken a seat, turning the weapon in his hands, intimidatingly close for comfort.

"Don't cower away, Steven. It's just not gonna help you."

Steven balled his hands behind his back. He tried fiddling with the zip ties with his nails, but the angle made his arms ache more than they already did.

"I-I don't have the money," he stammered, feeling his mouth go dry. "I-I don't know what you want me to say o-or do!"

The unfriendly giant hummed in thought, cocking his head like he was reading the fear that was blown in eyes. Intimidate more with his darkened brown ones.

"You see Steve, that hurts me because I'm gonna get in trouble, and I don't want to get in trouble," Matty explained patronisingly. "So, you have to understand that I'm going to make you suffer."

Steven had tensed at the shortened version of his name, a hatred he had never felt so deep until now.

"Don't look so scared," Matty said, with a pout of his wicked smirk. He leaned forward, hiding the knife with the shadow his body cast. "You'll be absolutely fine."

Locked in place with the foot hooking around the leg of his chair, Steven gulped. The water that was evaporating from his temples was being replaced with sweat. He was eyeing Matty like a hawk, eyes wide and darting all over the evil face, and when the sharp blade lifted and touched his cheek, he did not prepare himself to stop breathing so soon.

"If you move, I cut. Understand?"

Nodding would involve moving, so Steven hoped that from the tight bob of his throat and the tension in his neck due to the angle Matty had pressed the blade into his skin, counted as his acknowledgement.