Richie steps inside the room and shuts the door behind him. "Hi," Kate greets, clutching the bed sheet to her breasts. The last thing she remembers is him sliding down between her legs, feeding from her inner thigh, and a hot blush spreads across her cheeks recalling that erotic sensation. Feeling a little shy, she gives him a hesitant smile.

He doesn't say anything for the longest time. A blank expression covers his face, making it impossible for her to gauge his thoughts. Dread forms in the pit of her stomach, as if she's standing on the edge of a cliff and about to jump to her inevitable death.

Finally he draws closer, but instead of relief it's apprehension that surges through her. Something's wrong; she can feel it in her bones, but tells herself to snap out of it. "How long have I been out?" she asks, hoping that will spark a conversation.

It doesn't.

He sits down on one corner of the bed, careful not to make any contact with her.

"Richie?" She prods again. "What's wrong?"

After what feels like an eternity, he reaches for something inside his jacket pocket. She stares at him, confused, as he places the large stack of bills near her feet. "What's this?"

His voice is cold as ice. "Cash. Moolah. Whatever you want to call it."

"I can see that," she snaps. "What's it for?"

"There's enough here to last you a few months. Take it and get the fuck out of here."

"What?"

"You need to leave," he repeats, turning towards her. "There are hunters after you and I can't be around every minute to protect you."

"I don't need a bodyguard, Richie."

"Actually, yeah, you do, but it can't be me. The best thing for you to do right now is cross the border and go back."

Guilt brims in his eyes but it disappears so quickly she wonders if it's simply a figment of her imagination. Maybe she's projecting her feelings onto him, the same way she did with Seth. After a year of travelling and hunting together and everything they went through, she had come to think of Seth as her family, her lifeline, and assumed he felt the same way, but all it took was some cautionary words from his brother and Seth ran as fast as he could, without so much as a backward glance in her direction.

And now she has a sinking feeling Richie's about to do the same. "Why are you doing this?"

"I told you why. It isn't safe for you here."

"Don't give me that bullshit, Richard. Tell me the truth."

He levels her with a cold glance. "You're really going to make me do this, aren't you? I'm trying to be a nice guy here-"

"Then stop! Stop fucking being nice and just be honest!"

"You want honesty? Fine. Here it is. I don't want to be with some fucking virgin who passes out when I get too close! Do you know how frustrating that is?"

Stunned into silence by his cruel words, she averts her gaze from him. Is this really happening? Maybe she's still sleeping and in the midst of a nightmare. The stranger in front of her can't be the same Richie was so sweet and gentle only a few hours before.

"What the fuck was I thinking?" He mumbles to himself, running his fingers through his hair. "All this time I had this voice in my head telling me Santanico was the wrong choice, that maybe it was you who I was supposed to be with. Everything I'd gone through, everything I'd experienced, it all happened so that we would be together, but I guess I was just deluding myself. Santanico scares me sometimes, she can be so fucking intense, and you were just... I don't know, a way out when things got to be too much. If I loved you, then it meant I didn't love her and didn't have to commit. It's not like you can be in love with two people at the same time, right?" He asks pointedly.

His words cut into her like a knife, pain gushing out of her.

He stands up, casually walks over to the window. Leaning against the wall, he peeks through the curtains. "Santanico said you were nothing more than an itch I had to scratch, that I was romanticizing my infatuation into something more, but I thought she was full of shit. No wonder she laughed at me when I told her I had feelings for you. She practically dared me to come here, like she knew this whole thing would blow up in my face."

Kate flinches. A part of her wants to crawl under the blanket and hide from his devastating words but she forces herself to remain in place. "You didn't come here for me, you're here to prove something to yourself."

He throws her a pitying glance. "Look, I'm not trying to be a jerk. You said you wanted honesty, right? Well, here it is."

"I wish I'd killed you when I had the chance."

His eyes narrow on to her face. "There's no need to be so melodramatic, Kate. I had every intention of sticking it out with you but I realised I don't love you. You can't give me what I need and I don't see the point of attempting something that will make us both miserable. I mean, it's not like I'm what you want either. You were moaning Seth's name while you were passed out, and mine too." His head tips to the right, an eyebrow quirking up. "It's really fucked up when you think about it."

"Shut up!" She pushes the cash aside, some of it landing on the ground. "Take your money and get out!"

He exhales a resigned sigh. "I don't know why I expected you to be mature about this." Leaving the money where it is, he turns around and heads to the door.

"If I ever see you again, I will kill you." Kate realizes she means every word, it's not an empty threat. Hate is not a feeling she's familiar with, but right now, looking at the sneer on Richie's face, she recognizes that very potent emotion swelling within her.

"Good thing I'm already dead, Sweetheart."

He walks out, leaving her alone in the empty room.

There are no tears of sorrow or anger, just a welcome numbness that envelopes her, and she's grateful for it.

From a few miles away Richie watches as the pickup truck drives past the customs officer and officially out of Mexico. The rustbucket joins the traffic on the other side, quickly disappearing from his line of sight.

He should feel happy, relieved, that she's gone, Kate's finally fucking gone, but it's absolute, terrifying despair that ripples through him. Telling himself to get over it, he picks up the phone and dials his brother's number.

"Is it done?" Seth answers, sounding wasted.

"Yeah. She's gone."

The silence is heavy, palpable. Richie knows if there's anyone who understands what's he's going through right now, it's his brother.

"When you showing up here?" Seth asks.

"In a few hours."

"And then we finally put a stake through viper fang-bitch?"

Richie pauses briefly before answering. "It's not going to be that easy."

"No shit, Sherlock. But we gotta start somewhere, right?"

"I'll call you when I'm close."

"I'll be at the bar."

"Shocking," Richie deadpans.

Seth hangs up and Richie starts his car, that heavy feeling of emptiness lessening a little at the thought of reuniting with his brother.