Trapped

Tyrone came out of his car, the rock crunching beneath his feet as he balanced the collar of his coat. His senses were on alert, each strand of his hair mindful of the peril that hidden within the obscurity. The wind yelled through the broken windows, carrying with it a cold metallic fragrance that made his stomach turn.

It had been weeks since his wife had been taken, and every day since had been a living bad dream. Tyrone had gone through countless evenings following down leads, finding information out of lowlifes who scarcely knew their own names.

But this evening was different. Tonight, he was aiming to confront the man responsible for all his torment, his rival, Damon. As he drew nearer the entrance, the recollections of his previous experience with Damon overflowed his mind. They had been rivals for a long time, ever since Tyrone had left to begin a new life with his spouse. Damon had taken it personal, and ever since, there had been bad blood between them. But this—kidnapping