The noise of the party starts growing louder and shriller, making the world spin faster and faster, creating a vortex, sucking me in, suffocating me.

"Can we leave?" I ask Eric

"No, we can't do that," he answers immediately, surprising me, since I asked in a voice so soft even I barely heard it.

But he's wearing his near-permanent mocking expression, and his tone is laced with sarcasm, so I'm sure he doesn't really care at all. How can he, if he's a psycho killer like his brother seems to think?

"We'll leave soon," he adds in a reassuring tone, making me yet again feel safe instantly. I have no reasonable explanation why this man, who I just met, who has taken me as payment, who might be dangerous, should make me feel so at peace, so safe.

The humid summer heat isn't helping my confusion at all. It's so different than the heat back home and makes me feel like I weigh a thousand pounds.

Maybe I’m so trusting of him because I have to be. Because otherwise, the deal we made will fail. But even as I think it, I know it's more than that.

"Let's find some shade to sit in," he suggests after a few more seconds of gazing at me like he actually cares.

I feel very watched as we traverse the lawn where most of the people are gathered, but he leads me right past all the unoccupied chairs and benches under tents made of white cloth that's rippling gently in the breeze coming off the ocean.

He finally stops under an ancient oak tree. Its lowest branches are close enough to the ground and wide enough to sit on. Which he does, so I follow suit.

"I thought you'd have fun at this party," he says wryly as I try to find a comfortable position on the hard, bumpy branch.

How could he think that? He's just making fun of me again! So I don't say anything, just stare at him hoping he'll take the hint.

"I'm sorry," he says, breaking eye contact with me and looking off into the distance, directly at the two ladies that first mentioned Sophia after seeing me. "But I thought they'd keep their observations to themselves."

"Or you just wanted to share their disdain with someone," I blurt out, not quite sure where the statement, or my certainty in it came from. But what he said, what I experienced myself, gave me the distinct feeling he's not at all welcome at this party, and that he'd rather be anywhere but here. Yet I don't think I'm supposed to know that, so now my heart's racing because he's glaring at me again and maybe I just made a psycho angry.

But he laughs instead, an uninhibited, light sound that instantly makes me feel worlds better.

"Maybe you’re right, who knows? But their opinion is nothing to worry about. Take that one, for example," he says, pointing to one of the ladies who spoke about me before. "Maud, the one in the white hat. She regularly gets private massages from buff guys. But they're really escorts, no matter what she says."

I feel my cheeks grow hot as a picture of a naked, middle-aged Maud crosses my mind and won't disappear.

"Or the one with her, Joyce. She never married because she's in love with the local Catholic priest. Or she might be a lesbian, no one really knows."

"Then there's my dear brother Terry, whom you've had a nice chat with before," he goes on, looking over the crowd like he's trying to locate him. "He's on his third wife and he's only 32. Each one's been younger than the previous, the newest one's only nineteen. And they all look a lot like Sophia, but no one would dare accuse him of trying to deliberately start trouble by bringing them to family events. There they are!"

He points to Terry who is now accompanied by a skinny woman with long, light brown hair. They're too far away for me to make out her face, but I don't think she looks anything like me. What's with these people? Are they all insane?

But even thinking it makes me feel mean. Because there's such a strong undercurrent of pain beneath Eric's words it's nearly suffocating me.

"Sophia meant a lot to you all, didn't she?" I mutter.

"To y'all?" he asks. "The way you speak…it's so refreshing."

The mocking tone in his voice has a sharp edge now. It's a clear sign that I've overstepped some line with my question.

"Sorry," I whisper, not sure what I'm actually apologizing for.

"Sophia loved this tree," Eric says and jumps off the branch. "So much so that she hung herself from it."

I leap off the branch like it's on fire. I'd fall and probably break something, if he didn't catch me. He's laughing again when I finally regain my balance enough to stand on my own.

"What's wrong with you?" I snap, trying to push away his arms, but he’s not letting go of me.

"Don't worry, you'll soon find out."

And now stark fear is warring with the primal feelings of safety offered by his strong arms wrapped around my waist. Maybe I'm the insane one here.