"Why is this happening, Eric?" I ask. It's been minutes since he returned, and he's still not making any move to hold me, or kiss me. It was going so well, for the most part, and now we're right back where we started. With him rather seeing that I'd have left. That's what his question really meant. He's not happy to see me. He's not pleased I stayed. I'm just a complication to him.

"Come, let's get something to eat," he says, stretching his hand out for me to take.

And I do, all those fears racking through me a split second ago just peeling away, staying behind on the deck as we enter the house.

"Seeing Julie like that…it must've been terrible for you," he says once we're driving. He's going so fast I'm surprised we haven't spun out yet. But I'm not afraid. Eric knows exactly what he's doing. Utter and complete control comes as naturally to him as breathing.

"I've seen dead people before, at the ER. I worked there for two years."

"Yeah? Well it was only the second time for me, and it was terrible." He flashes me a grin, a sheepish one, like he's ashamed of it for some reason.

"You never get used to it," I mumble, interlocking my fingers together in my lap and gripping tight to keep them from shaking. "At least, I didn't. Maybe I'm just weak."

All that death, and pain, and blood, and sadness got to me to a point where I could hardly face going to work each day.

"You're not weak," he says, pulling into the parking lot of a small town diner. "This place'll have to do for today. I'm starving. It's not very fancy, but they make an excellent burger."

He leads me inside, to a booth by the window. Apart from a couple of older guys at the counter, and a young mother with two small children sitting a few booths down from us, we're the only ones in here. The waitress looks really bored as she hands us the menus. Everything is so everyday here, like a woman I knew—Eric's relative—didn't get brutally murdered this morning. I'd love to pretend it were so. But I can't.

"Why does your brother think you killed Julie?" I blurt out, surprising even myself with my bluntness, let alone Eric, whose eyes go wider than I've ever seen them.

But he smiles right after, snapping his menu shut. "I'll just have the burger and fries. You?"

I haven't even opened my menu yet. "Sure, me too."

My cheeks must be as red as ketchup right now, because they're burning up. But I have to know. "Please answer my question."

But the waitress comes back right then. Eric rattles off our orders, then just sits back, staring at me with an inquisitive look in his eyes. Minutes pass, drag out until they feel like hours, days even.

"Me and my brother don't have a very good relationship," he finally relents. "But it's nothing for you to worry about. I left his house at midnight, and was on a plane going to California all night. I only returned a couple of hours before I came back to Terry's to get you. The cops are confirming it now. I had nothing to do with Julie's death, and that's all you need to know. I'm sorry you had to witness all that."

He's speaking in that tone he has, the one that always makes me feel safe. But…

"Why did you go to California in the middle of the night?"

He makes a face like my question pained him. "For a meeting, I thought, but it fell through. It was about returning your father's land."

"I thought that wasn't possible."

The waitress brings the food, sets it in front of us. Eric picks up his burger right away. I don't touch mine.

"It probably won't be," he says, taking a bite and chewing slowly.

So why did he even bring it up? Just so I would stop asking about Terry and Julie? I'm willing to uproot my whole life to be with him, go back on all my promises, lie to my dad, take him at his word that he didn't hurt Julie, and he's just teasing me? Mocking me?

"What I mean is that it will be difficult," he says, laying down his burger and wiping his lips with a napkin. "But I'll try to return your father's land to him, if I can. It's all I can do for you now."

His words sound more like a dismissal than if he'd just gone and said he's sending me back home right now. But I won't believe it until he does come right out and say it.

"What do you mean, 'all you can do'?"

"The mansion and the chains that scared you so much. I can't, and I won't give that up, Joy. But I'll try to make good on my side of the bargain regardless of your refusal."

How did we go from talking about Julie to this?

"I haven't…I didn't…" I didn't say no. I could try it. But saying those things in private, at night, is one thing. In a diner on the side of the road is quite another.

"You didn't what?" he asks pointedly, his burger forgotten now.

"I got scared, OK?" I snap. "It wasn't an everyday kind of thing you asked of me."

"Come on, your private detective told you all about me and my proclivities," he says in that infuriatingly mocking way of his. He's still just teasing me, just playing with me. I mean nothing to him, if I won't be his plaything, his slave. That's all he cares about.

"You knew all about that when you came with me," he concludes, tossing a fry into his mouth and chewing it with a very smug look on his face. "So your agreement was a given. I don't see why you're trying to back out now."

He's still teasing me. Getting me riled up. And he's succeeded.

"I came with you because I had to, OK? Because the moment I saw you, I knew I had to, or I'd regret it for the rest of my life. That and nothing else factored into my decision."

I'm breathing hard now, and he's staring at me like he's seeing me for the first time, like we're back in the living room of my house, and everything is yet to unfold. I'll do better this time.

"I could try," I mutter into the silence.

He's not saying anything, his eyes still fixed on me. "Yeah?"

I nod and shrug, completely aware that it's not the most reassuring reaction.

He takes my hand, grips it in both of his. "For what it's worth, I felt the same way the first time I saw you. The idea that your father offered you as a bribe sounded preposterous, and I'd say no, but it was you, so I couldn't."

It's worth a lot, more than anything else right now, more than I can put into words. I hope I don't disappoint him again, when it turns out I might have just made another promise that I can't keep.