Before I Go: A dark and tense psychological crime thriller. Marie Reyes (best reads .TXT) 📖

car was their safe space. As long as they stayed in the car, everything would be fine. Their protective cage of glass and metal. The ability to drive away in seconds. Why the hell was she drawing attention to herself? He watched the transaction. Josie shoved five pesos in his hand and grabbed a bag of warm churros. “Gracias.” She thanked him and got back in the car.

“Calm down, Michael. We don’t want to stand out. What could be more inconspicuous than two tourists tucking into some—”

Michael stopped her as he saw a figure rushing towards them. “Is that Alex already?” He squinted, trying to make them out as they got closer, tensed on the edge of his seat, waiting for a better view. He could make out the blue T-shirt Alex had been wearing. “It’s him.” Josie leaned to open the front door for him so he could slide in quickly. Aleksander’s face was beet-red when he got to the car.

“Quick.” He slid into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut behind him. “Keys!” he shouted.

“What’s wrong?” Josie asked.

“Keys,” he shouted again, louder this time. Alex was always so laid back, there was something deeply concerning about hearing him angry and panicked.

Michael tossed him the keys, but they fell into the foot-well. Aleksander felt around on the floor, grabbing the key and putting it in the ignition. Once the engine started, he jerked forward, narrowly avoiding hitting the car in front before joining the road.

“Is everything okay?” Josie hunched forward, gripping the seat in front, bracing herself.

“See that Chevrolet?” He took his right hand off the steering wheel to point at a car at the end of the street.

“That’s Julio’s car.” Michael and Josie turned to face each other with a mutual look of concern.

“Julio?” Aleksander glanced back at them.

“The hotel owner.” Was the only information Michael wanted to give.

Alex slowed down to keep some space between them and the Chevrolet. “I thought Frederico run the hotel.”

“No, that’s his nephew.”

“Well, I heard the nephew on the phone. Sounds like something big is going down. He mentioned a boat.”

“Was there anything in the locker?” Despite everything going on, that bottle of pentobarbital still meant more than anything.

Alex passed Michael a phone without taking his eyes off the other car. “This yours?”

“Holy crap.” The phone was dead, but he recognized the deep scratch that took up most of the screen. He ran his finger over it.

“I couldn’t see your bags. Place was so empty. Looked like it might be closing.”

“Was there anything else?” Michael asked, trying to seem nonchalant, hiding his desperation.

“Your package? No. Sorry man.”

“It’s fine.” He could probably buy more pentobarbital somewhere else. Tijuana didn’t have the monopoly on illicit substances, well it did, but there was still plenty to go around. “I don’t think this is such a good idea. What if they notice us following them?”

“No worries. I’m the best covert driver.” Alex bragged.

“Yeah, like when you almost crashed into the car in front a minute ago.” Michael opened the small white bag and picked up a churro. The dough was still warm, and he ate it in two bites.

“That was intentional.” Alex turned the corner.

"Yeah, I’m sure.” Michael licked some sugar from his lips and sucked off the sticky oil from his fingers,

Once they had left Arelanes, they were back on the same highway they’d arrived on, back towards Chetumal. Alex made sure there was always at least one car between them at all times.

“So what are we doing exactly?” Michael asked, wondering what the hell was going through their minds.

“Maybe they lead us to Josie’s sister.” Alex shrugged. Michael hoped his unrelenting, enthusiastic optimism wouldn’t rub off on Josie. Nothing good would come of this. They were in a downward spiral, spinning out of control. He had to get out before he was sucked in any further. After this he would not be going to the consulate. This was it. His money was almost gone, and he had little left to give.

“Quick, overtake this car. We’re going to lose them.” Josie fidgeted in the back seat with a nervous, excited energy—a newfound sense of purpose—practically buzzing. Alex complied and picked up speed to get ahead of the car in front. They were side by side and the other car matched Alex’s speed. The gap had disappeared and Alex weaved a little towards the other lane.

“Careful. Last thing we want it to get arrested,” Josie said as she looked over at Michael. He wondered if she could read his mind. Finally, the gap widened and Alex managed to ease his way in, with honks of protest from the other driver.

“Great. Very covert.” Michael wasn’t one to be a backseat driver, but this was getting painful to watch. He tried to dissociate, let whatever was going to happen, happen. He couldn’t control any of it. He was a backseat driver to his own life, maybe even his own death.

They followed the Chevrolet past the small airport and towards the docks, past landmarks and shops that Michael recognized from when he had been in Julio’s car.

“I wonder if they’re going to Julio’s boat.” Josie thought out loud.

They drove past a road lined with bars and restaurants and followed the car left. A grassy island ran the length of the road, dotted with palms. The Chevrolet was directly in front of them now and slowed to a crawl.

“Why are they stopping? There’s nothing here. They’ve seen us.” Michael was used to being the voice of doom and gloom, but his ten dollar an hour student therapist wouldn’t accuse him of catastrophizing now.

The car pulled up into the dusty layby in front of a chain-link fence that looked like it had seen better days. The conjoining gates were so bent the padlock was redundant. Anyone could slip through the gap. A large barren space, bar for a few heap-of-junk cars dotted around. The yard connected to a small auto-shop. A man with a shaved head sprinted from the garage