Hostage

Bonus Chapter

I did.

I missed the sound of her voice, and the scent of her skin. I missed her laugh. I missed the moments when we talked and she would be too nervous to look me in the eyes.

But today was different.

Because today was Meg's death anniversary.

Today made it six years since Megan passed away and today, like all the other years that had passed, I had woken up feeling like shit. I had woken up feeling like I didn't want to be alone.

And today, like all the other years, I had spent hours on the phone with Roxi and Jason, and they had been so insistent on filling me in on everything going on in their lives, even the most insignificant things. I knew it was their way of trying to make me feel better, their way of trying to make the day easier on me.

I had gone to the hotel a few times but I didn't have it in me to go up to her room and knock on the door.

Cause if I did, then what?

What would I say?

How would she react?

So each time, I had told myself 'next month,' 'I would go in next month,' 'I would make a move next month.'

One month turned into another, and another, and other.

And after the first five months passed, I realized that I was never going to.

Because I had realized that she was better off without me.

Seven months ago, I had told her that her life would be so much better without me in it. And now that we were apart, I could see that I had never been more correct about anything.

She looked happier now. She seemed... better. Healthier.

I had visited the bookstore where she now worked a few times and each time I had managed to get a glimpse at her, she wore a genuine smile on her face.

And each time, I would remember what she looked like the last time we saw each other.

I remembered how broken she looked, how sad she looked.

And I would never have it in me to ruin the life that she had now, the peace that she had now.

But on some nights like tonight, I found myself driving towards the hotel, hoping to run into her.
Maybe, just maybe if I bumped into her by accident then it would be a lot easier to start a conversation. How hard could it possibly be to say the words "I'm sorry?"

I bit down on my lower lip as I pulled over in front of Paradise Hotels and then breathed out softly.

I let my eyes scan through the building, placing one of my hands beneath my jaw to support the weight of my head when I leaned down on it.

So much had happened here.

So much.

And still, the hotel stood tall in all its glory, it's dark, shiny walls gleaming against the moonlight like so many painful memories hadn't taken place within its walls.

When I looked at the building, I could see Andre. And I could see Jason, and Roxi.

I could see the memories we had made there play in my head in full speed.

It didn't hurt anymore, no.

I wasn't angry, or hurt anymore.

Right now, I just wished.

I wished that I had done a better job as a big brother. I wished that there was something else I could have done, I wished that there was a way to bring Andre back. I wished I hadn't had to play dumb when Gerald questioned me about Andre's condition after his confession tape got out. Because if I had given the slightest impression that I knew something, then it would have been for nothing.