Page 4 of Last Breath

“You okay, Salem?” I ask, watching out the dusty front window at a pair of coyotes wrestling over dinner. One of the saucy turkeys didn’t make it.

Nodding silently, without looking my way, he finishes placing the last blade in the holder. As Lucy steps out in the oversized pullover, I have a grand idea.

Walking out of the side room, with her ratty hair pulled back and slightly wet, Lucy looks marginally more respectable. I didn’t have much that could fit her, so the sweater has become a dress, covering almost past her knees.

“Can we go now?” she asks, keeping her eyes up and away from the bloodied floor. Lucy cleaned off a little while she changed, but blood still clings to her hair and skin where she didn’t quite get it off.

“Yeah, we can head out.” Looking to her, seeing that scared child disappearing and the strong soul reappearing, I smile.

“Salem, you good now?” I ask. Salem’s face is covered in gore. I’m sure mine is too. We’re macabre looking, but in a satisfied way. It’s war paint from a job well done.

Seeing him wrapping the last of his instruments away, I know what’s next.

Regimented and precise. Salem has an order to his needs.

Darkness requires light.

I’m his light.

Picking up his case of knives, he smiles as he dusts off the cover. “Yeah, we can head out. Soon.”

Turning to Lucy, I ask, “Do you mind waiting in the car? We need to finish up here.”

Confusion lights her face, but she nods and walks off without another word. I’d promised Lucy we’d give her a ride home, and thankfully, it’s only one state line away. One state too close to our pasts, but honestly, I’ll feel better knowing she gets home safely.

For some reason, after all this time—close to ten years—Salem wanted to venture toward our childhood homes. I would’ve asked, but I know he won’t tell me his intentions.

And really, I’m afraid to know.

As I watch her close the door and walk away, Salem turns to me with trepidation. “Mal…”

He doesn’t really have to say what’s bothering him because I know. Touching his arm, I tell him, “We’ll be fine.” Even if I feel it’s not totally true. Being this close to our pasts doesn’t make usfine.

We’ve been away for close to ten years, and it’s always weighed on his heart that he left the devil alive. To face Tress and all the horrors of that time, I don’t know if he has the strength to do it. I won’t voice it, though. This diversion with Lucy might have pushed him toward doling out justice where justice is deserved.

Justice should have been offered to Salem whenhewas little. No one helped him until I gathered enough courage to, and that was too late. The damage was done.

Setting his knives on the jump bag, coming within my space, he pulls me close. The brutality of Salem fades after he’s meted out his form of judgement. He softens slightly, becoming vulnerable.

Loveable.

This is when he’s truly mine.

It’s the only time either of us let down our guard.

Wrapping my hands through his hair, bringing his mouth to mine, we kiss. I love the feel of his lips, the taste of him, and the way he makes my heart race like a slow burn.

It’s purely passionate. It always is. It’s soft, sweet, and tentative, but at the same time it’s hard, fast, unfettered, and lacking boundaries. Even how his arms wind around my body, holding me in place like prey, I relish it.

Grabbing him close, the wet, bloody mess on our clothing soaks through and coats my skin. The wetness leaves a breeze on me as our bodies separate. Breaking contact, Salem grins. Sal never truly smiles, his past took that action from him.

Honestly, I can’t remember if I’ve ever truly seen him smile. Tress stripped him of his kindness, his sweet nature.

Hisjoy.

Looking at me deeply, his eyes are tight, dark and imploring. “Malachi, I need you.”

I know what it means. As I stand still, unbuckling my belt, Salem reaches inside my jeans. Sucking in a breath at the sudden, yet expected contact, it’s amazing how he knows me so well when it comes to what I want and need.

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