Twice The Trouble

Chapter 57: Chained

Stacy

"No complaints. No trading of partners. You'll be chained until 5:00pm."

These were the exact words that those imperious policewomen had said to us.

It wasn't a metaphor. No, we were LITERALLY CHAINED to one another. How?

With handcuffs. Cold, shiny handcuffs that the criminology students had provided.

"I cannot believe this is happening to me," I muttered beneath my breath as we strolled the overcrowded university. As the morning dwindled to noon, more people seemed to arrive.

"Believe it," taunted the tall,obnoxious male sauntering alongside me.

I ignored him and peered up at the clear azure sky. "Why, God, Why? What have I done to--"

"Could you stop being so dramatic?" Bryce sighed. "It's only until the afternoon."

An unpleasant grimace crept onto my plump lips. "Six hours with you? No thanks."

"You think I WANTED to get stuck with a conceited brat like you? Don't flatter yourself."

I glared at him. "What were you doing in there anyway? The Jail Booth, I mean."

Bryce exhaled, smoothing back his brown bangs away from his forehead. "I was just bored."

"What, you just LET yourself get caught by the cops?" I gawked at him in disbelief.

"No." His dark blue eyes narrowed at me. "I was only minding my business when they got me."

"Wait-wait-wait," I said, slowing our pace. I searched his face. "Were you alone that time?"

"What's with the interrogation, Sta. Ana?" Bryce sounded annoyed. "Are you a cop as well?"

"No need to get snappy. I'm simply astounded that you were roped into something dumb."

He fixed me with a hard, pointed look. "You can't be serious."

"Oh, shut up," I told him in a bristled tone. I paused briefly, and from the corner of my eye, I could see that even in casual wear, Bryce De Los Reyes emitted a quiet confidence I had always seen in him. Today, he sported a red button down shirt with 3/4 sleeves and pale blue pants.

"Done checking me out?"

"Oh please," I automatically riposted. "I was admiring your clothes, not you."

"Sure you were." His self-satisfied smile nettled me to the core.

While we journeyed around the south quadrangle, drinking in the sights of friends and families and students mingling with each other, I slid out my phone from my denim skirt and composed a short but concise message to my sister in case she plunged into hysterics, as per usual.

To: Your Nutty Sister

Sop, I unintentionally got arrested in the Jail Booth.

I'm stuck with Bryce until five pm.

"You know," Bryce started as I replaced my white phone into the pocket of my denim skirt.

"What?" I prompted him with an arched brow.

"You keep pretending to hate me and my presence, but we both know you're into me."

"Excuse you?" I gave out a hollow laugh. "I do not like you. Hasn't that been obvious?"

His deep blue eyes traveled down our arms. My right wrist was handcuffed to his left wrist.

"Don't you dare accuse me of rigging this blasted game in my favor," I coldly told him.

"Why not?" He showcased his perfect teeth. "You're a master of schemes and manipulation."

"That doesn't mean I would resort to this length to be with a jerk like you," I fumed at him.

He smiled wickedly. "So you're admitting you'd stoop to other methods to make a pass at me?"

"You're twisting my words!" I tried to flail my arms but I winced when the cold metal strained the skin over my right wrist. I attempted to stroke some feeling back into it, my stance vulnerable.

"Does it hurt?" Bryce inquired, and  I peered up at him, then he added nonchalantly: "Not that I care, of course. I am a jerk after all."

We continued to walk alongside each other. Everyone we passed ogled our handcuffs in awe.

"It's a pain how they keep looking at it," I said with a hassled sigh.

"Some of them seem to assume it's a kink," commented my brown-haired companion.

I flashed him a dirty look. "I am not kinky."

"Who said we were talking about you?" His mouth curved into a coy smile.

I lifted one sneaker-clad foot to stomp on his black shoe but he quickly stepped back.

"Doesn't make sense why you're affected," he provoked me. "You don't like me, right?"

"I didn't like you. I don't like you. And I'm not going to," I callously hissed at him.

We halted in front of a thick white pillar in a more secluded part of the university.

Bryce suddenly pulled me towards him, our handcuffs clinking together when he backed me up against the tall white pillar, and he pressed our linked wrists against the side of my head.

"Never speak too soon, Sta. Ana," he warned me as his face inched closer to mine.

"What are you trying to prove, De Los Reyes?" I challenged him, tilting my face up.

He touched his forehead to mine and smirked at me. "Everything's just a game to you, isn't it? You see everyone as your pawn. You're the puppeteer and the people around you are either the strings or the puppets. You may not realize it now, but you're messing with a lot of people."

"Like you and your beloved girlfriend?" I flashed him a fake smile.

Bryce clenched his jaw. He loosened his grip on my arm. "What girlfriend?"

For years, I trained myself not to show what I truly felt. I pasted an indifferent look on my face.

"Trouble in paradise, De Los Reyes?" I arrogantly asked him.

He reached for me and touched my chin between his fingers. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Our conversation was going nowhere. Bryce eyed me carefully before releasing my chin.

I pushed my back off the marble pillar before straightening my pink and white raglan shirt.

"One more walk before we eat something," he told me as I fell into step next to him.

As if I had a choice.