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

“Oh no, what is wrong?” She walked around the desk and put an arm around Josie’s shoulder.

“We were mugged. They had a knife.” Josie buried her face in her hands. “They took all our money. We didn’t know where to go. I need to charge my phone.”

“Of course. Poor thing.” She disappeared behind the desk and grabbed a white plastic box full of chargers, adapters, and other electronics that looked like they had been left behind by guests.

“There are plug sockets around the corner where those people are.” She pointed. “The police station is not far if you want to report it. It’s not always worth the effort, but maybe you need to for insurance. I know a lot of companies don’t pay out for phones and stuff unless you file a report, but by all means charge your phone here. You need anything else?”

“Water? If that’s okay?”

“Of course. Uno momento.” She hurried out back to fetch them a cup of water.

“Michael.” A hand clamped down on his shoulder, making his heart leap in his chest. “Is that you?” It took Michael’s brain a good few seconds to process who stood before him.

“Aleksander. Fuck. It’s so good to see you.” Something about the harrowing events of the day, and seeing a familiar face hit him like a swift kick to the gut and he hugged Aleksander, squeezing him tight.

“Woah. At least buy me a drink first.” He laughed and looked Michael over. “You okay? You look like shit.”

“You don’t know the half of it. This is such a coincidence. I can’t believe it.” He looked Alex up and down again, as if he were a mirage that would disappear into nothing in front of his eyes.

“Trust me, not a coincidence. I keep bumping into people I have met along the way. The gringo trail y’know. I’ve seen this girl I met in Mexico City three times now. She just keeps popping up y’know.”

“Is Anna and Freja here?” Michael asked.

“No. They are living in Chiapas.” He glanced over at Josie. “So… who is your friend?”

“Sorry, so rude of me. This is Josie. We met in Tulum.” He hoped Josie could keep it together.

“Hello Josie.” He shook her hand. “What’s wrong.” He said as he noticed her red, puffy face.

“Oh, it’s just—”

The member of staff emerged with two plastic cups of water and handed one to each of them. “These poor things got mugged.” Michael didn’t realize just how thirsty he was until he felt the water slide down his throat and let out an involuntary moan of pleasure.

“Oh, that must have been scary. Do you need anything? I can sort you out.”

“Well we lost our wallets. Maybe I could transfer money to your account, then you could get it from an ATM for us?” Josie suggested. “I was just about to charge my phone.”

“Why don’t we sit, I get you a nice cold beer while we sort this.” It gave Michael whiplash to go from the horrors he had witnessed earlier, to being treated with kid-gloves. The fact that these almost perfect strangers seemed to care so much about his welfare felt strange and foreign to him.

By the time Josie had connected her phone, Aleksander had three bottles of beer, holding them with the necks in-between his fingers. “Ladies first.” He passed one to Josie, one to Michael, and then opened his by cracking the cap against the edge of the table.

“You guys look like you’re in shock no? Did they have a weapon?”

“What?” Josie jolted upright.

“The mugger.”

Michael leaned towards Josie, his mouth near her ear. “Maybe we should tell him, maybe he can help.”

Josie shot him a look that said, hell no. “I’m not getting anyone else involved in this. Miguel’s wife. That’s on me.”

“How the hell is that on you? You didn’t—”

“Guys. Guys. What’s going on?” Although Aleksander looked concerned, there was a flash of curiosity behind his eyes.

“Do you have the Wi-Fi password?” Josie had the desperate look of a crack addict trying to get their fix.

“MANATEE123. All caps.” Aleksander offered as three people burst into the front of the hostel erratically, talking over each other and flapping around like headless chickens.

“Did you hear?” Everyone piped down for the woman that spoke the loudest. “Someone was murdered. Apparently it happened about an hour ago. They said she was gutted and hung off of her balcony.” There was something about her face, like she was excited somehow, that this was a thrilling story that she could tell all her friend’s back home.

“Oh no.” The receptionist’s face dropped. “Gang related, I assume?”

“Not this time. The person I spoke to said they got a tip that the husband did it. They were having an argument or something, and the guy just lost it. Apparently they got the call as it was happening, but by the time police got there it was too late.” From the tone of her voice, the casual passerby would probably assume she was just talking about a juicy piece of gossip or the latest celebrity indiscretion. Michael wondered if he was being unfair. This lady reminded him of an irritating person he used to work with, who would always try to get everyone involved in the office politics, feeding off of others’ conflict. He looked over at Josie to see how she was taking this, and she unplugged her phone and ran out the front doors.

“Hang on.” He leaned on the central table as he got up and ran after her to find her pacing in front of the building whilst looking at her phone. “Don’t worry. We can clear Miguel. We just need to say he was with us when it happened. They’ll find out the truth Josie. It will be fine.”

“What about this is fine exactly?” She thrust her phone screen at his face and Michael took it from her hands and zoomed in on the picture.

“What the fuck?” He squinted at the image, hoping it would somehow change before his eyes. He was