Twice The Trouble

Chapter 94: Stacy's Abduction

Stacy

Ugh. What happened? My head was throbbing, and I couldn't move properly.

My eyelids felt heavy, but I fluttered them open, adjusting to my surroundings.

I was in a bedroom I don't recognize. The ceiling and walls were plain white, the floor a musty gray, and there's not much furniture except for a lone black sofa in the corner.

A low groan escaped my lips as I tried to sit up, but something cold and hard strained against the skin around my wrists.

Fuck. They were handcuffs. My hands are tightly cuffed to the metal posts of the headboard.

Trying not to hyperventilate, I lowered my gaze to my feet. My blood ran cold. There were another set of handcuffs around my ankles, trapping me in place. I couldn't move at all.

My heart jumped in shock when I heard a doorknob twisting open, then the white-wood door was pushed forward, and in came a guy, followed by three more guys.

Oh Shit.

*Two Hours Earlier*

"I don't want to see your face for the rest of the night."

Sophia's scathing words played inside my head like a broken vinyl record.

I ran away with my hands covering my face and hot salty tears rolling down my cheeks.

Still wearing my long blonde mane down and clad in my red sleeveless, turtleneck dress and high heels, I waited outside of Orion University for a few minutes before hailing a jeep.

I didn't know where I was going, but I just wanted to be anywhere else but Orion.

After thirty minutes of traveling in an unfamiliar neighborhood ,I got off the jeep.

What time is it? The sky was pitch black, a few tiny stars like speckles of dust against a dark canvas. I guessed it was almost midnight due to the winter-like weather and atmosphere.

Hugging my bare arms, I aimlessly roamed around the gloomy streets of the foreign city.

As I walked down the sullen and shady pavement, my peripheral vision told me I was being stared at and pointed at by the locals. It was understandable. I didn't live in this sketchy neighborhood, and even if I had, I would still be a sore thumb with my shiny golden hair and as of the moment, I'm wearing a blood-red ballroom dress and sparkling heels.

"Who's that girl?"

"She looks like an American."

"Check out her clothes. I bet she's rich."

"Damn, she is smoking hot."

I feigned ignorance and casually strolled the street, hoping no one would sense my unease.

After a short while, I let out a yawn and opted to sit down on a wooden bench under a tall, thin lamppost.

"I should probably go home soon," I said to myself before releasing another yawn. I unclasped my black designer purse and fished out my white cellphone to check the time: 12:18 am.

Seeing the hour only made me more sleepy. My eyelids drooped, and my head was staggering.

From a few blocks down the road, I heard a boisterous noise which was slicing through colorful strobe lights flashing like lasers out of a popular dance club. There was a long line outside the entrance, and girls in skimpy outfits were filing into the building in a fit of giggles.

I was startled when a pair of hands shot out from behind and covered my eyes. They were masculine hands, and they pressed against my eyelids with violent exertion.