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

responsibility. The only thing that he wanted in that moment, was to close his eyes. Unfortunately, that wouldn’t come to pass as Josie opened her mouth.

“Why do you do what you do?” She asked. It sounded half like an accusation, half like genuine curiosity.

Samuel took a moment to formulate a response, his dark-eyed glare burning through them. “Why everyone does it. Money.”

“Money. That’s it? Why kidnap my sister, was that just for money? If so, why didn’t you release her?”

“Hey. It wasn’t up to me. Besides, you’re right. Sure, It’s about money. It ain’t like wherever the fuck you live in some bubble. Don’t think I didn’t notice your designer clothes. What did you do to earn that? Ask mommy and daddy? But yeah, it’s not just about money. You ever feel alive in your bubble, Josie? I know you. I could see it in your eyes. You’re loving this. A little bit of excitement. You have some serious balls, my friend. Got tired of your small boring life, coming to taste some of the danger. It’s intoxicating, isn’t it?”

“You’re wrong,” She protested.

He carried on talking, ignoring her comment. “There’s nothing quite fucking like it. Kill or be killed. Watching someone go from the enemy, to just a hunk of meat. Watching them cower. The respect you get. It’s fucking primal. Some next level god-like shit. I mean seriously, can you imagine a world without crime? That’s some mundane bull-shit. Boring.” He pulled a right, they drove for a few minutes, and he picked up where he had left off. “I heard once why people like horror films. The adrenaline they get. The threat of death, it’s like an aphrodisiac. They did a study on it and everything. People like bumping uglies after watching them. It’s like the danger gets them off. Apparently it’s some biological thing. Survival instinct. If your body thinks it’s going to die, it makes you want to make babies before you go. Funny, no?” He chuckled to himself before making another turn.

Michael wasn’t convinced by his theory and remained silent.

“We’re almost here.” They drove another few miles down a lonely stretch of road, devoid of other cars until another set of headlights appeared in the distance. A blasting smash made Michael’s heart stop, and he ducked as the windshield shattered into a million pieces, showering Samuel and Che in glass fragments. A screech cut through the air as the car veered to the side. They lost control. His body was thrown around like a theme park ride. Chest pounding. His muscles tensed as he tried to brace himself. No idea which way was up. Finally, the world stopped moving and everything went still, and then black.

Chapter Thirty One

The sensation of falling jolted Michael awake. Had he been dreaming? It was quiet except for a hissing coming from somewhere as he tried to get his bearings. His hands still tied behind his back and his chest resting against the roof of the car, which was now facing the floor as the car laid upside down. Glass everywhere. A movement against him made him flinch, and he wriggled just enough that he could crane his neck and see Josie stirring. With his hands bound, he couldn’t touch her, couldn’t help.

The window next to him had blown out, an escape hatch to freedom, and he inched towards it like a Caterpillar crawling across the floor. His head emerged through the gap and he looked around. It was so dark he could barely see a thing. His head throbbed with a pulsating pain, like the worst hangover of his life, but he fought the urge to give up and just lay there and forged forward, leaning his elbow against the frame of the window and propelling himself forward with his legs. A sharp-hot sensation dragged across his arm as he rolled out onto the damp grass. He lay on the floor gasping with the effort and looked at his arm. A long, deep-red gash ran along it, and warm wet blood trickled from the wound and dripped onto the floor. It made him queasy, so he opted to stop looking at it and to pretend it didn’t exist.

“Get me out of here.” Josie’s weak voice came from the car.

“I don’t know how?” He tried to prize his hands apart with pure strength alone, knowing it wouldn’t work, but trying anyway.

“Listen to me,” Josie said. “Stand up.”

He did what he was told and made his way to his knees. Every muscle in his body felt weak, and it took a surprising amount of effort to right himself without his hands to balance. He looked to see if there was a sharp bit of exposed metal he could use to cut the plastic.

“Just bring your hands up as high as you can and drop them down really hard.” Her voice was stronger now. Michael did what she said, but nothing happened. “It might take a few tries, but it will happen.”

“How do you know?” He wondered if she was having him on, but he couldn’t imagine her joking at a time like this.

“I did some research before I came. You know, just in case. Do it already.”

“Just in case you were bound with cable ties?” His mind was bracing itself for this not to work. He considered cutting the tie apart with the glass in the window frame but didn’t want to injure himself again.

“Hurry up,” she shouted.

He strained to get his hands up as high as possible and swung them down again. Nothing. This was useless.

“Again,” she yelled in encouragement.

This time, something clicked. He hadn’t even realized it worked at first. Not quite believing his hands were free, as he couldn’t feel them. He held them up in front of him.

“Michael,” she shouted from the car.

He ran around to her side and pulled on the door, but it wouldn’t open. “You’re going to have to come out of the window I came out of. You have to