Before I Go: A dark and tense psychological crime thriller. by Marie Reyes (the false prince series txt) 📗

nothing for him there. If he put the do not disturb sign up, hopefully nothing would stand in the way. He contemplated putting a note under the door. Having it stick out just enough so you would only see it if you were looking, or if you opened the door. He didn’t want some poor hotel worker to stumble upon the mess, although he had picked a method that hopefully wouldn’t traumatize anyone too much. That reminded him he needed to buy some plastic sheeting to put down so he wouldn’t leave too much of a mess. It was the little things that made a difference; he convinced himself. It was as considerate as he could muster, given the circumstances. The practicalities of death drifted from his mind as soon as he saw her.

As she headed over to the bar, a crowd of people walked in front of him and stood there chatting. He tried to weave his head in between them so he could get her attention, but more people started joining them, so he waited for the people to be shown to their table. Once they dispersed, he could see her sat at a small table and she had her back to him. She opened up her laptop, and he wondered if he should wait until he was on his way out before bothering her—just in case she wanted nothing to do with the pathetic mess that she had to escort to his room last night. He hopped from his table to one closer, like some crazy stalker. What are you doing, psycho? He noticed a familiar screen. She was calling someone over video-chat.

“Hi mom. Hi dad.” He found himself strangely relieved it wasn’t a boyfriend she was calling. Now you’re eavesdropping. Psycho.

He couldn’t hear what they were saying on the other end of the computer, but he could hear Josie loud and clear.

“Listen. Calm down. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

He could see pixilated images of her parents. One of them was throwing their arms around as if trying to make a point.

“Yes, I’m taking precautions,” she said.

It felt wrong, spying like this, and he was just about to back off to his original table when a family of four gathered around it.

“I’m doing this, whether you like it or not. There’s no debate here.” Her voice was loud and firm—a force to be reckoned with. “I’m not giving up on her. Not like you.” She went quiet, as did her parents on the other end. Michael averted his gaze to his coffee cup, tearing on the cardboard sleeve.

“I have to know what happened.” Upset and frustration bubbled up in her voice. He wondered who she was talking about and what happened to them.

The waitress approached him. “Can I get you anything else?” she asked.

“No, no. I’m fine,” he mumbled, not wanting to draw attention to himself. He picked up a leaflet that had been left on the table and held it close to his face. After briefly looking at the activities on offer, he looked over at Josie again.

“I’m not naïve. Look, I know exactly what I’m doing. We’re not getting anywhere. I can’t keep having this same argument with you. Listen. I’m going to call you later okay. The connection is terrible.” She pressed the end call button and slammed down the lid of her laptop. This was obviously a bad time and Michael decided to make himself scarce, heading for the door, not looking in her direction.

“Michael.” She tapped him on the shoulder as he passed.

“Oh, Josie. Hi. I didn’t see you there.” He hoped he wasn’t as transparent as he thought he sounded.

“Sit with me.” She pulled out a chair and looked up at him pleadingly.

He stood there like an idiot for a minute as his brain tried to work out why she wanted him there. “Thanks.” He dropped on to the seat. He could probably do with breakfast anyway, after losing most of last night’s dinner.

He looked at the menu, trying to avoid eye contact. “I might have the huevos rancheros.” Then he wondered if spicy was a good idea.

“How are you feeling?” She had the hint of a mischievous grin, like she was taking pleasure in his misfortune.

“Well, I did manage to get in eight hours of extreme anxiety with my hour of sleep, so that’s a bonus. Oh, then there was the mammoth vomiting session.” He regretted being so candid. He didn’t want her picturing him like that.

“Ahh, poor baby.” Her mouth down turned in an exaggerated frown.

“Are you pitying me, or just mocking me?” He asked, propping his sunglasses up on the top of his head.

“Hmm. Little from column A, little from column B.” She flagged down the waitress and ordered herself pancakes with fruit salad, and his huevos rancheros.

“Listen, sorry I was such a mess yesterday. I’m not always on drugs, trust me.”

“I was taught that when someone says trust me, it usually means they’re lying.”

“I… I wasn’t.”

“Chill, I was joking.”

The Girl from Ipanema came on the radio. It was an old-fashioned song for this young crowd, but somehow it fit. “I was thinking.” He got up from his chair and ran over to the other table. “Excuse me, do you mind?” he asked, reaching for the leaflet he was browsing earlier.

“Okay,” said one of the girls at the table, looking overly annoyed that he had the audacity to interrupt their breakfast.

Michael sat back down and opened the pamphlet. “How about… boat trip?” For some reason he did jazz hands as he said it.

“That sounds lovely, really, but I’m leaving tomorrow and I’ve got a couple of things to do and…” She trailed off. For some reason, he got the impression she wanted him to talk her into it. His heart sank when she said she was leaving. He barely knew Josie, but he did know she made him feel less alone.

“Come on. Live a little. You said you’re leaving. You’ve got to make the most of all this.”

“I’m not