Page 56 of Last Breath

“Maybe next timeIshould go to town. It might be better.” He knows it’s because he always draws attention. I’m the least likely to garner any. The small-town girl, the unforgettable looking one who blends into the crowd.

“Well, at this rate, I don’t think that matters.” His smile is strained. It’s like you’ve been told your favorite animal is about to die at the pound and you’re down to your last dollar. You can’t spare a dime to save him, so you watch through the windows as the inevitable occurs.

You’re helpless.

“How’s our little friend feeling today? When I left you were still in bed. Any more sickness?” he asks sweetly, patting my stomach. Bending low, Mal kisses me on the belly and talks to the bean that’s taken up residence. “Are you being good to your mother? Did you let her keep the bacon down today?”

“Thanks for the gentle reminder that the pound or so of sweet delicious bacon came back last time. And no, baby terrorist number one has been good today. The French toast stayed in.”

Turning slightly, resting his head on my lap, Mal tucks into my side. “Is Sal sleeping?”

Stroking his hair, I smile and bend slightly to kiss his forehead. “He’s sleeping. She really caused a stir. It took a bit to relax him.” He knows what I mean by relax—a hot round of sex.

Sitting quietly for a moment, the two of us silently muse about the man that is Salem. He’s complex, damaged, and in so many ways, a disaster waiting for the spark to ignite him. But he’s also the man that is passionate, daring, and fun. His wiring is a bit crossed compared to others, but I wouldn’t change him. The devil created him to look like an angel, his perfect muse for destruction. A man that searches for love to balance the angst that he feels inside.

Hearing the door behind us open, interrupting the quiet, Salem steps out. He’s disheveled in his appearance. With dark wash jeans riding low on his hips, he buttons them up. His hair is a muss and fuss. “What are you doing out here?”

“Just came back from the store. We decided to let you sleep,” Mal tells him, lifting off my lap. “Heard you had a visitor.” He’s poking the bear. We both know it, but if Salem is rested and relaxed, it won’t affect him. If it does bother him, well, then we know what it’ll take to calm him. That means I might as well pack my stuff now.

“Yeah. She scared the shit out of me. You know I don’t like others to see me. I was a bit freaked.” When he saysseeshim, he means the marks from his past. His past is not clean. Even though he looks like an angel on the surface, his body tells another story altogether. There’s more crisscrosses on his skin than a road map, and they’re not the self-inflicted kind.

Grabbing up the bags, Malachi starts toward the door. As he’s about to open it, Salem stops him. “Wait. Why are they here?”

Turning, both Mal and I look in the direction that Salem’s indicated. Over by the front check in area is the sweet hotel lady and a police officer.

Deflecting, Mal pipes up, “Maybe someone jumped on their room payment. Maybe something happened up the trails. I hear there’s people getting lost up there all the time.” Mal acts unaffected, but I know him well enough. He’s interested when police are around too. “Come on. Let’s get this stuff inside and settled. I hearMASHon TV.”

Pushing his way past Salem, I follow and act just as disinterested. I’m hoping that Sal will leave it alone and not want to find out more.

When his curiosity hits, blood spills.

Chapter 30

Malachi

Walking toward the kitchenette table at the back of the room and placing the bags down, I mutter the whole time. “Come on, Sal. Leave it.”

Do I think he’ll skip the mayhem and destruction that’s fueling his psychosis? No. But do I have enough time to package up our stuff, deflecting his internal demon from causing said mayhem, and bypassing the issue of a police officer in our midst? Fuck no.

I was careful in town. I didn’t draw attention, aside from the usual. I said hello to people and was polite. I held the door for an elderly couple and helped them with their bags to the car. I was a pillar of the community as far as they were concerned. So I doubt I attracted the eye of officers, and I highly doubt he’s here for us.

But I could be wrong.

Turning around, though I really didn’t want to, I look to find both Salem and Joy staring out the door at the policeman.

“Nothing like being suspicious, you two. Just keep staring at the man like you’re admitting some kind of guilt.”

Joy turns my way when I wrap my arms around her waist. I try to nudge her inside, but she fights me. “He’s looking right at us, Mal.”

“Aren’t you standing in an open doorway in sixty degree weather, staring at him?” I ask plainly.

She smiles and laughs at that, slowly allowing me to direct her inside. “Yeah, okay, it’s cold. I relent. He’s probably wondering why we are. Come on, Salem. Close the door.”

“Not yet. He’s looking right at me, Malachi. Why is he staring at me? I don’t like when people do that. It irks me.” Salem is on edge.

Fearing the worst, I cuss under my breath. Shit.

“Salem, love, come on.” With Joy now huddling on the bed, wrapped up in covers, I try to coax Salem inside. Reaching inside his pockets, searching out his cock, I rub it gently. I want his attention elsewhere—anywhere but on the officer staring. “I grabbed you your favorite snack.”

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