Damon

Tyrone looked at the clock on the wall. It was nearly midnight. His wife was still kidnapped by obscure men a number of days back. He had called her phone a few times, but every time it went straight to voicemail. But the unease wouldn’t leave him.

He picked up his phone once more and dialed her number. This time, it didn’t actually rang. It went straight to voicemail. “Babe, it’s me,” he said, attempting to keep his voice calm. “Just give me a call once you get this, okay? I’m beginning to get stressed. Love you.”

He hung up and threw the phone onto the couch, running a hand through his hair. He walked over to the window and looked out at the city underneath. The roads were calm, and the lights from the buildings twinkled within the night.

Ordinarily, the sight calmed him, but this evening, it as if, it made him feel more confined. Just as he was about to call her best friend to see if she knew where she was, his phone buzzed on the couch. He took it rapidly, trusting it was his w