He settled into bed and listened to the soft rock on the small radio next to his head on the nightstand. He felt his body relax into the bed and the tension melt away. He had just started to drift off when the phone rang. He debated on answering it or letting it go to voicemail. After the second ring, his conscience won out.
"Hello?"
He heard noises on the other line but no voice.
"Hello?" He said again, this time louder.
A voice in the background said something, too soft to distinguish. He heard some more noises and then heard breathing on the line.
"Hello?" He asked again, getting pissed off. He was too tired to play games.
When nothing came this time, he heard the sick sound of flesh meeting flesh and the breathing hitched.
"Say it!" An angry male voice screamed in the background.
"Who is this?" He sat up in bed.
The breather remained quiet but he could tell whoever it was, they were hurt. Some of the breaths were raspy.
Noises filled his ear again as he heard more sounds of a struggle. He heard a gasp and someone cry out. Finally the phone was picked up.
"We have your friend." A deep accented voice informed him.
"Who is this?"
"No questions. You are who we want. An eye for an eye."
He heard a scream in the background and he recognized it.
"I want to talk to.."
"No demands from you. We will call tomorrow."
He held the dead phone in his hand, listening to the dial tone. He hit the receiver and dialed a number.
"It's me. We've got a problem."