Prisley tried to call for help, but a hand gripped her throat.
"Don't scream! Or I'll kill you!" It was the voice of the man from the bar, filled with menace.
Prisley's heart raced, but she knew struggling was futile. She obediently forced out a few words, "Don't, I’ll do as you say." Then she gave up resisting.
“Calm them down. Don’t provoke them. Then find a chance to escape.” She kept telling herself.
Maybe seeing her stop struggling, the hand over her mouth moved away for now.
Prisley assessed the situation calmly:
She was now out of the bar, and there was no way the bar security could help her. The two men had clearly chosen to act outside the bar, knowing this fact.
Spencer had gone somewhere to take a call. Even if he returned to his seat and noticed she was gone, he would have a hard time finding her.
In this dark corner of the street, there were only two sleazy men and her, and she couldn't rely on any passerby to help.
So, the only one she could rely on was herself.
Screaming
