𝑆𝑡𝑎𝑟-𝑐𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑

Kidnapped

Abby's POV

I hop onto my bike, waving goodbye to my friends before leaving John B's house. I head towards Walmart and walk inside.

"Excuse me. Do you guys have hidden cameras?" I ask, walking up to the guy in the electronic section of Walmart. "Aisle 2," he answers, not looking up from his phone. My eyes narrow at his lack of professionalism. If you can't do your job correctly, don't do it at all.

As I walk over to aisle 2, I feel the need to use the restroom, so I turn around and walk back to the man behind the counter. "Where's the bathroom?" I ask. He sighs before looking up from his phone. "Would you like me to draw you a map?"

"The bathroom, asshole, before I report your ass. I'm not a Karen but I sure as hell am petty," I snarl. "All the way to the left at the back of the store," he finally answers.

I quickly walk to the left and enter the restroom before entering a stall. As I lock the door, my new phone buzzes. I look at it and see a text from Pope.

Pope: "Are you getting the cameras?"

Me: "Yes. I'm at Walmart rn. I'll be back in an hour or so. I'm gonna grab some food on the way back. Want anything?"

Pope: "Grab some Popeyes for us."

Me: K"

I close the stall door behind me and walk up to the sink, washing my hands. As I shake my hands, trying to shake off the water, I feel an arm encircle my waist and a cloth-like material cover my mouth that smells like... chloroform. I try to scream but it's muffled. I kick my legs, trying to get out of my attacker's grasp but fail as he lifts me an inch or so above the ground.

The last thing I see before darkness takes me is Rafe Cameron through the mirror with an insidious smirk on his face.

**********

As my eyes flutter open, I feel an aching pain in my wrists and ankles. I try to bring my left wrist up but fail, realizing my wrists and ankles are tied with rope. I squint my eyes, trying to see something but it's pitch black. "Whatever game you are playing, you will pay with your life, you stupid fuck!" I yell, thrashing in the wooden chair that I'm in. It's not that I'm scared or afraid. I'm annoyed and hungry.

My eyes squint as a lightbulb is turned on. "I see you're awake. You woke up a lot sooner than I thought you would. I figured you would be asleep for at least another hour. Interesting..."

As my eyes adjust to the new lighting, I see Rafe pull out a metal chair and take a seat in it in front of me. "This is going to be fun."

I scoff. "What are you going to do, blondie?" He smiles. "Whatever it takes to get you to answer my questions," he answers. I lean forward in my chair. "Torture? You think this is my first rodeo, cowboy?" A laugh escapes my lips at his ignorance. "You're wrong. Do your worst, country club," I challenge.

He looks me up and down, no longer smiling. He's trying to figure out if I'm lying or not. After analyzing me for a few moments, he gets up and moves the chair to the corner of the room. He walks closer to me, looking at me for a moment before raising his hand and roughly bringing it to my face, causing my face to swing to the side. The right side of my face erupts in a burning pain, but I've had worse. This is nothing.

"My mother hits harder than that," I scoff, turning my head to meet his gaze. Instead of slapping me, he cocks his fist back before thrusting it forward, directly hitting my nose. "I can do this all day," he smiles, shaking his fist.