Before I Go: A dark and tense psychological crime thriller., Marie Reyes [latest books to read .TXT] 📗

dumb with me, you little shit-stain. Stop looking at her. Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

“I… I.”

Samuel yanked Michael’s arm back, nearly ripping it from its socket, and leaving him struggling for breath. “Call him. Now, or I’ll tear your girlfriend a new one, literally.” He let go of his arm and took a step back, dropping the phone on the cushion. Begging his body to co-operate, Michael scrolled through Josie’s contact list. The words were a blur and might as well have been hieroglyphics. His fingers felt numb and tingly, like they were not part of him, but he finally managed to find Alex’s number and pressed the bright green dial button.

“Speakerphone!” Samuel demanded, but Michael could barely function enough to find the right button. The phone went straight to voice-mail.

“Don’t leave a message. We will try again in a minute.”

He wandered over to the bar, poured a large measure of some see-through liquor in two thick glass tumblers, pulled some ice from a mini-fridge and threw it unceremoniously into the glasses. He came to Michael and shoved a glass in his hand. The ice-cubes chinked against the glass as Michael’s hands trembled. It took a monumental amount of effort to keep the glass still, so he used both hands to steady it. He looked down at the white bubbles of air trapped in the ice-cubes.

“Drink. It’s good stuff. You’ll enjoy.” He took a sip from his glass, his hands calm and steady. Samuel swayed from side to side with the music like he didn’t have a care in the world, or he was putting on some show. Being up on this platform made Michael feel like he was on stage. This wasn’t real; it couldn’t be.

Josie finally sat upright in a groggy daze. He could only imagine what was going through her head right now.

“Ah, sleeping beauty. Let me get you a drink. Gotta say, love the blonde hair.”

“Please, just tell me what happened to Tanya. That’s all I ask.”

“Let me do the asking first.” He passed her a glass, and she took it obligingly. “You speak to your friend. Get him back here. Then we talk.”

“Give me the phone.” Her arm stretched out; her hand open.

He dropped the phone in her hand, not taking his eyes away from hers.

She held the phone up to her ear and waited. “Hey. Alex. If you get this message, don’t worry. Everything’s fine. False alarm. We’re stuck here though. We need a ride back to town.” The slow and steady timbre of her voice was so calm Michael almost believed it.

Samuel took the phone back straight after the call. “Good girl.”

“My sister?”

“You’ll find out when your friend comes back, and only then.”

They sat in quiet contemplation. Michael couldn’t believe Josie’s cold voice message, like she had no qualms with endangering an innocent to get the truth. As if the truth was the only thing that mattered in the world, everyone else be damned. She could make her own decisions. Michael didn’t fear death, but lying to Aleksander didn’t sit right with him. The mournful sounds of the piano from the speakers made him feel like he was a star in his own movie, destined for a tragic ending. He hoped Alex would have some sense and stay away.

“Let’s go outside,” Samuel said, with a frenetic energy, bobbing up and down like a dog waiting for their owner to take them out for a walk. He was excited for something, and Michael didn’t want to know what.

Chapter Twenty Eight

The dusk had painted the sky lilac by the time they went outside. Michael hadn’t expected it to be getting dark already, but his grasp on time had slipped. Everything looked so much more beautiful at twilight, and his mind drifted back to the beautiful sunset he had witnessed at the petrified waterfall near Oaxaca. This would likely be his last view.

The stark silhouettes of the palm trees cut into the sky, which had now darkened into a deep magenta. Samuel walked in front, making his way up white steps up the terraced garden, and the man with the machine gun was behind them. At the end of the main part of the garden was a huge circular fire-pit made of pale brick.

The colors above the tree-line seemed to change every few seconds and he couldn’t take his eyes off it. The knowledge that it was probably his last sunset made him focus on every nuance—the way the burnt-orange clouds feathered into the stratosphere.

“You still with us.” Samuel clicked his fingers in front of Michael’s face. “Here, take this. You need it more than I do.” He passed Michael his drink and went to fetch something from his right-hand man. He dropped the hefty bags onto the ground in front of Josie and Michael. The knock-off North Face backpack and Josie’s dark purple luggage was instantly recognizable—their bags from the hotel. “Let’s see what we have here.” Samuel leaned down, starting with her bag. He unzipped it slowly, as if he was trying to build up tension. He pulled out a dress and held it up to himself. “Hm, I don’t think this would suit me.” He tossed it into the fire pit as the man—still armed—went to work to get a fire going.

There was already wood in the pit, and he dowsed it with a liberal squirt of gasoline. The smell stung Michael’s nostrils, and a white flash of light blinded him as the gas combusted. Michael blinked as the flames subsided enough so he could see. “Hm, boring, boring.” Samuel threw various items of clothing in the fire indiscriminately.  Embers floated up into the sky before fading into white dots of ash and then disappearing entirely. The fabric fed the flames and the pile of clothes started shrinking in on itself as it burned, like a body decomposing in fast-forward.

Next, he pulled out her makeup bag and chucked it straight in the fire, then toiletries. The fire