Page 46 of Last Breath

The easy answer.

A baby.

Either myself or Salem are the parents of a new life.

We’re murderers.

We’re dangerous.

We’re the scum of the Earth.

The police chase us, security agencies want to string us up, angry families want us dragged behind their cars, and we’re here, relaxing in anadorableBates Motel. Well, a reverse Bates. The killers have checked in.

Pulling up a seat on the step, listening to the coyotes in the desert and the television that Salem has turned on, I’m trying to clear my head before stepping foot inside. Salem can read me like a book. He’ll know something is off in me if I don’t clear myself of this.

Easier said than done.

Don’t get me wrong, I love Salem. I love all of him, including his quirks. And with Joy now a part of our lives, everything is perfect. But I wish our lives were normal. I want to imagine us making breakfast, kids running around, the washer running in the background and a set of rings on our fingers. That’s my dream.

Marrying him, making him my family in all ways, that’s what I want. I could wish upon a star and dream of him being normal, but he’s not. He’s damaged and so am I. And now? Now we have Joy and a baby to consider too.

We fell into her life. We shoved our way in and she defended us. She protected Salem and can fit her crazy to his like the last missing puzzle piece.

Can we be domestic?

I mean, honestly, I love the idea and I think this will be fantastic, but Salem? Joy? Their darkness makes it hard for me to see the light on most days. I don’t see either of them changing diapers or feeding a crying baby. This is why I’m having such a hard time wrapping my head around the idea of them coddling something as innocent as a child. The reality of it is, is this is going to happen and I have to help them cope.

I’ll have to be there to keep them all safe, and safe from themselves.

Rising off the stoop, opening the door and walking in, I decide there’s only one outcome.

Chapter 26

Malachi

I wake up, tucked between the two people that mean the most to me in the world. I made a decision out on that porch; I’ll have to be the strong parental unit for this child. I’ll be the glue that secures our sanity, and hopefully allows this child to grow.

I need to keep us sane.

We would have to keep their notoriety on the low from now on in this little hole-in-the-wall motel, which may be the best place for us to hide out. We’ll blend, relax, stay out of trouble, and chill out for this child. We’ll raise this little minion to be…

Good?

Nah. But it’s worth a try. We can’t be responsible for raising something to be worse than us. It needs to bebetterthan us.

With the sun now up, I can no longer sleep. It’s time to tour this little establishment and find us coffee and pie. Squirming out from between their prone bodies, I quickly dress and sneak out. Closing the door quietly and heading down the stairs, the sun coats the building. The fixed reddish-brown stucco and brick, the newly black painted rails, the ornate flower boxes with cacti in varying stages of bloom or lack of, gives an air of care to the motel.

When we arrived late last night, none of this was noticeable about the Three Cacti Motel. It’s easy to see the newly repaired sections, the repainted railing and window frames, the womanly touches, and the handiwork of someone who knows their way around a hammer.

With a lightness in my step I venture down the way. There are a few doors open with cleaning staff bustling about, a few kids playing in the hallway, and toward the diner there’s a breezeway leading to their outdoor pool. The parking lot isn’t any fuller than it was last night, but now that it’s light out, I can see the cars in the yard are well kept. This isn’t a destination town, this is anon the waytodestination. Taking a look around at the highway we came up, it’s almost in the middle of nowhere. There’s a gas bar, an onramp that links to the city that’s just under a hundred miles, and a sign that states ‘The Best Little Water Park.’ I can’t remember the last time I was in a pool. A stream or a river, even a lake for a bath can’t compare to the sting of chlorine. I actually enjoy the idea of checking that out. Right now, my stomach rules, though.

Smelling fresh coffee, bacon, and warm baking wafting through the air, my stomach grumbles in reply. My steps carry me to the diner on their own accord. Passing the front desk where I signed in last night, the front window of the diner shows the neat little tables and chairs with tiny potted cacti. It’s not a large space, and even at this early hour, the area is half full.

Stepping inside, the other patrons pay me no attention.

That’s new.

Normally with my Glasgow Smile, and my size, it makes every head turn. These people are so engrossed in their conversations and the phones on their tables, they don’t take notice of me. It’s refreshing.

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