She had enough money to secure at least a roof over their heads, a small, shabby motel room. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. She could only hope that Logan was distracted and hurt enough not to sniff out her and Kate. It was time to make some plans. Some serious planning.
She needed help. She had no idea what to do, or to whom to turn to. She was about to pick up the phone and call to her mother, when there was a knock on the door. She swallowed the scream that tried to escape and forced herself to sit quietly. Kate was napping on the bed beside her, and this time she actually slept deeply enough not to wake up when all too familiar voice echoed from the other side of the door.
“Little piggy, little piggy… Let me in or I’ll huff and puff and blow down your house…”
Logan had found them. It had taken him less than an hour.
Lock rattled, and door opened. Logan stood in the doorway, angry frown on his face.
“Don’t you never… Ever run from me like that!” He hissed, stepping in and closing the door with silent click, moving quietly, almost tiptoeing.
“You gave me nearly a heart attack! Are you two okay?” He whispered, creeping to the bed and eyeing Kate, reaching with his hand, then pulling it back before his fingers touched the sleeping baby. Marie pulled Kate away from him and started backing towards the door.
“Don’t touch her! Stay away from us or I’ll drop you like a sack of potatoes!” She spat the words out, trying to stay calm enough not to shout. Kate was still sleeping.
“What the hell is the matter with you?” Logan asked.
“What’s the matter with me? I’m not the one with knives!” Her voice rose in level and volume. Kate started squirming, and they both froze. Finally baby settled to sleep again. Logan opened a drawer from a dresser.
“Put her there. We need to speak. Outside.”
At least he wasn’t trying to hurt Kate she noted and put the baby carefully down, following Logan who stood outside of the room, leaning his back to the railing lining the wooden porch.
“I wasn’t going to hurt either of you,” he said. Marie tilted her head.
“Really?” She couldn’t hide the sarcasm in her voice.
“Really. It was an accident. I… I haven’t used those things in years. Storm’s lighting fried some nerves, and… Shit. It was an accident. I’m not going to hurt either of you.”
“Accident? You just accidentally threatened us with knives?”
“They’re not knives.”
“What ever. Where did you put them? I don’t want them anywhere near Kate or me,” she huffed, hoping that Logan had gotten rid of them. He coughed and shifted on his feet.
“I can’t just throw them away. They’re part of me.”
“Look, I don’t care how fucking priceless mementoes those precious knives are! They’re dangerous!” She tried to talk some sense in to him. Men and their weapons. Logan rubbed his face, looking hurt and tired.
“Fuck this.” He glanced around. Suddenly Marie was very aware how deserted the front yard of the motel was. Logan pushed her against the wall, covering her mouth with his left palm and raised his right hand.
“I’m not going to hurt you. But I don’t want you to scream and bolt away again.”
Knives slid out from between his knuckles. He purposefully pointed his fist away from her, but she could see the wounds they tore when coming out. Then, as soon as they appeared, they disappeared, back inside of his hand. Logan let go of her and backed away few steps to give her some room.
“I would get rid of them if I could.”
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