Page 43 of Peripheral Vision

I glance back at the door, checking the time again. I’m not sure if it’s the shadows playing tricks or just my nerves, but it feels like time is stretching out. I shift in my seat, checking my rearview mirror.Nothing out of the ordinary. The streets are mostly empty save for a few college students here and there and a couple of passing vehicles. But still, something doesn’t feel right. I feel like I’m being watched. A few moments later, the door to the bar finally opens, but it’s just a patron leaving. I pull my phone out, sending her a quick text.

You good in there?

Five minutes go by with no reply. Another quick glance in my rearview mirror and I’m already out of the car before I’ve fully processed the thought. I’m walking toward the bar, each step quick and purposeful—a sense of urgency tightening in my chest. When I reach the front door, I pull it open without hesitation, the lighting and music inside hitting me like a cold breath. A few people linger here and there, and there’s a bartender behind the bar that I don’t recognize. But there’s no sign of her. Not behind the bar, not at any of the tables, not in this room. Callum isn’t here either. “Hey,” I call out to the bartender. “Have you seen Dylan?”

She looks up then glances around. “She went to the back ten minutes ago and I didn't see her come back up. It’s possible she left through the back.” Her voice carries a bored tone that makes me wonder if she was even paying attention.

“She go back there with anyone else?” I snap, trying to keep my irritation from rising too high.

The bartender raises an eyebrow but shrugs. “Callum. He hired her so he got to do her exit interview, too. He’s probably in the?—”

I don’t let her finish as I storm down the hallway. She calls out after me, but I ignore her protests. Pushing through the office door with enough force it slams against the wall, I’m met with an empty space. No Dylan and no Callum. I don’t waste any more time. I turn on my heel and head toward the back door, passing a few people who barely glance at me as I exit through the back of the building next, but the alleyway is empty too. I stop dead in my tracks. There on the ground, near the trash can where I spoke to her those nightsago, is her purse, the straps twisted and half-draped. The sight of it, discarded and abandoned, sends a chill down my spine. She might be stubborn and dislike doing what she’s told, but whatever happened here wasn’t her decision. I don’t need to ask who took her… that much is obvious. So, where the hell is she? But more importantly… what’s going to happen next?

Chapter

Twenty-Eight

DYLAN

My head throbs with a dull, rhythmic pulse, feeling as though it’s being squeezed in a vice. My limbs feel heavy and unresponsive as though my body had been drained of all of its strength. I try to open my eyes, but they feel like they’ve been glued shut. The world around me feels distant, muffled, like I’m underwater and the surface is just out of reach.

I force my eyes open, but the effort feels like I’m pushing against something much stronger than my own body. Blinking through the haze, the edges of the room come into view—bare concrete walls and dim lighting filtering through a small, grimy window high up. It looks nothing like my house. Nothing like anywhere I know. The confusion in my mind deepens, like my brain can’t catch up to the reality around me.Where am I? What happened? Why can’t I remember anything?

I try to sit up, but my body is held back, although not under the weight of fatigue. I hear the metalclankbefore I feel the cool touch of it on my wrists. I’m handcuffed. The sudden surge of panic knocks the breath out of me as I tug at the handcuffs and where they’re attached to a metal pole that’s secured to the wall. Fear pulsesthrough my veins. This can’t be happening.Think, Dylan, think.A sharp intake of breath—my own—breaks the suffocating silence as I rack my brain for something, anything, but there’s nothing. I glance around, my pulse quickening as a door creaks open on the opposite side of the room. My heart stutters in my chest, not knowing who is entering. But my stomach absolutely plummets when Callum’s beautiful face comes into view. He’s bruised, dried blood below his left eye and above his lip where it’s been split.

“Ca-Callum?” I stutter, reaching out for him. He’s here, he’s hurt. But he’s not in shackles. Why isn’t he in shackles? “What’s wrong? What’s happening?”

He pauses, giving me a small and sad smile as he steps just out of reach. “I’m sorry, Dylan. They left me no choice. I-I tried contacting you to warn you, but you left me no other option when you showed up to the bar.”

My eyes frantically search his as my mind whirls. I remember… flashes. The bar, that’s right. I had gone inside to quit and collect my one and only check. Callum had been there, of course, and Audrey had also been behind the bar. That must’ve been why he knew I was coming in, because I had contacted Audrey to let her know I would be by. He followed me to the back to do my exit interview, to try to convince me to stay, to try and convince me to stay with him…

“What are you talking about? When I came into the bar you were doing everything to get me to stay?” I stare at him, confused and horrified.

He steps closer, his shadow stretching over me, swallowing the little bit of light in the room. “What else do you remember?” His voice is quiet now.

I shudder, trying to search more of my memory. “You…” Oh god. I remember trying to leave out the back when he wouldn’t let me walk back out front. He was trying to get me to hear him out, trying to get me to take him back, and I didn’t want to make matters worse because Fletcher had been waiting outside.Fletcher.Fuck. I hope he doesn’t think I vanished on purpose. I stare at the cement ground indisbelief. “How could you do this?” Tears start welling in my eyes at the truth. He had a gun in my back. Callum… he had clapped his hand over my mouth and told me to listen or he’d shoot me, before walking me to a waiting car in the alley. But he also whispered something in my ear before shoving me in the trunk and removing my bag, dosing me with something. What did he say? “Tell me what the fuck is going on!”

“You’re safe, for now. I did what I could… believe me when I say I had no other choice. They…” he trails off.

I plead with him. “Who are they, Callum? What did you do? Why are you being so fucking vague? Why am I here?”

“I’ve already said too much. I’m sorry. I just, I need you to trust me.” He sets a bottle of water down in front of me and walks away, back out the door he came.

“Callum! Callum, don’t you do this. Cal—” But my cries are cut off by the sound of the door shutting. Leaving me alone.

Please find me, Fletcher.Four words I never thought I’d say. I kick the water bottle Callum left me as far away as I can muster and lean against the wall. There’s nothing in this room that can help me, and I have a feeling that wherever I’m at, it won’t matter anyway. I wince as I try to adjust, and the handcuffs bite into my wrists. I yank a few times out of pure frustration to see if I can dislodge the metal pole, but it only results in wounding myself. Blood trickles down, making my wrists feel slick and sticky, and a wave of nausea overtakes me. I lean up against the wall in defeat, only hoping that I’m not going to be left here to rot.

The silence in the room presses down on me, the only indication there’s still daylight is the small amount filtering through the window above me. But hell, it could be another light from the building; it could be night. I could be in a completely different state. I have no idea how long I was out for. My thoughts race, desperately trying to make sense of it all, but the more I think, the more hopeless it feels. I close my eyes for a moment, trying to steady my breathing, to force the panic back down. It’s not helping.I can’t stop shaking, can’t stop imagining the worst-case scenario.

All I know is that Callum did this, he brought me here. It feels surreal, like something out of a nightmare that I can’t wake up from. And suddenly, fragments of a conversation I had with Lacey filter into my mind from several weeks ago.“That place has a reputation. There are rumors that people, girls, have gone missing at the bar. Just be careful.”And I didn’t listen. But could Callum really be the reason behind those rumors? Of course he could. He brought me here after all, but he also said he tried to warn me. I don’t understand. I push against the floor with my feet, trying to get some leverage. My body feels weak, exhausted from the earlier struggle, and my wrists throb from where the cuffs are digging in. But I can’t stop trying. I won’t give up. Not now. In the case that nobody…

No, I can’t think like that. The strange, unsettling idea I had earlier—Please find me, Fletcher—won’t leave me. It feels like a plea that I should never have uttered, he doesn’t even know where I am. But I know he’s the only one who could possibly save me. And for once, I’m grateful for his behavior these past couple of weeks, despite how… well, it doesn’t matter now. Because it’s going to come in handy. It has to. Fletcher would be looking for me. I know it deep down in the very marrow of my bones. The memory of his eyes, his intensity, flashes through my mind and for a brief second, I feel something like hope stir. Maybe he’s closer than I think, maybe he watched me be taken away and has been tracking me down since. Maybe he’s already here.

The faint humof distant machinery wakes me, and I’m met with an immediate ache from the position I’ve been in since I got here. Time stretches, with minutes bleeding into what feels like hours. My headdroops, exhaustion threatening to pull me under, but I fight it. I can’t afford any signs of weakness, not when it means they could come back in here to dose me again without my knowing. Not that my being alert would stop them, but I’m not going to go out without a fight. Callum’s words replay in my mind, twisted fragments of a puzzle I can’t solve. How on earth does he expect me to trust him? What could possibly justify this, chaining me to the wall like I’m some kind of rabid animal.

I shake my head, trying to suppress the rage bubbling under my fear. Callum wasn’t like this before. Sure, things fell apart between us, but he wasn’t cruel and wasn't violent. At least, I didn’t think he was. Now every memory feels warped, like I’ve been blind to who he really is. The thought makes my stomach churn, and I squeeze my eyes shut to stop more tears from spilling over. Crying isn’t going to help me here.

I try to stretch through the aches plaguing my body when I hear the sound of something outside the door Callum left through earlier. I think that maybe it’s the machinery, but then a shadow passes beneath the crack of the door, lingering for what feels like an eternity. Is it Callum? Has he come back? Or is it someone else? “Hello?” My voice comes out hoarse, barely above a whisper. I swallow hard and try again, louder this time. “Hello? Is someone there?” If it is Fletcher, I can let him know I’m in here. If it’s not, then I guess nothing changes so I have nothing to lose. The shadow moves again, and I hear the faintest sound, like the scrape of something against metal. It’s deliberate. “Please,” I beg. “Please, help me. I’m in here! I?—”

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