When Catherine emerged from the bathroom, she found that Howard had made dinner. The table was now decorated with a table cloth and a setting for two. A tall, thin candle was placed in the center of the table, illuminating the otherwise darkened room.

Catherine shifted uncomfortably as Howard looked at her from top to bottom. The dress was as tight and revealing as anything she'd ever worn before, but for once she wished her attire was more modest. He broke out into a broad smile. "You look beautiful."

Catherine forced a smile. "Thank you," she said, and sat at her place at the table. Howard brought over a bottle of wine and poured her a glass.

"I made steak. I hope you like it. My brother used to say it was my specialty."

Catherine was disturbed by his domesticated demeanor, but she didn't say anything. She didn't want to test the waters yet. Staring down at the food, Catherine wanted to say she wasn't hungry, but her body told her otherwise. She hadn't eaten in a few days, and the stomach pains had slowed down to a steady, dull throb.

"Please, eat," Howard said, taking a seat across from her.

Catherine sat and began chewing her food slowly despite her overwhelming hunger. She knew that she would only get sicker by taking in the food too fast. Howard was content to watch her eat, and the intensity of his scrutiny made it difficult for her to concentrate.

"You never told me you had a daughter," Howard said suddenly, after minutes of silence.

Catherine froze at his words as Howard peered at her over his own dinner. He took a sip of wine. "She's going to be very beautiful, just like her mother. I saw her in the photos my brother took."

Catherine didn't say anything, choosing instead to focus on the remainder of food in front of her.

Howard sighed, displeased at her silence. "I wouldn't hurt her Catherine."

"Just like you wouldn't hurt those girls?"

Howard's face contorted slightly, but he quickly regained his composure. "I never meant to hurt them." His tone was remorseful, and if Catherine didn't know any better, she would have believed him.

"If you never meant to hurt them, they wouldn't be dead," Catherine said frankly. She took a bite of salad, watching his reaction.

"Nothing was premeditated." His tone filled with meaning. "I cared for them and they provoked me."

"That doesn't mean it's ok Howard."

"No, I guess it doesn't. Do you think I'm going to hurt you Catherine?"

"Yes," Catherine said truthfully. "I think you will. I think you can't help yourself."

Howard didn't respond to her statement immediately, and Catherine wondered what he was thinking. The flame of the candle flickered in Howard's eyes, making them glow a vibrant red. He looked almost inhuman, Catherine thought.

"You can be the one Catherine," he finally said. "You can be the one to help me- to change me."

"If you want me to help you Howard, you can't do this."

"Do what?"

Catherine put her fork down and gestured widely around her. "This! You can't force us to sit here and play house. You can't keep me here. If you want me to help you, you have to let me go."

Howard shook his head violently. "If I let you go, you'll just turn me in. They'll lock me away."

"Then leave me here. Leave Nevada. They're going to find us sooner or later. You're going to get caught."

Howard shook his head once more. "By then it'll be too late."

The words stopped Catherine cold. "What do you mean by too late Howard?"

He stood abruptly, gathering his dishes. "I think you have potential Catherine. The others- they were just girls. You're a woman. I think that you could be the one for me."

Catherine studied his backside, still reeling from his previous statement.

"What did you mean by too late Howard?" she repeated, halfway aware that she was whispering.

He moved from the kitchen into the main area, and turned on the radio. A slow, soft song was playing on the radio and he reached out his hand to offer it to Catherine. "Why don't we do a little dancing. I know you like to dance Catherine. I hope that you'll perform for me one day. Although, I must admit it makes me jealous. All those men who have seen your naked body - twisting around some pole in a seedy bar." His voice grew louder, and she sensed that if he didn't take the hand offered, her refusal could only provoke him further.

He brought her up and held her. He began running his hand up and down her back, and she shivered involuntarily. He mistook the shiver for pleasure, and brought her closer to him.

"Why did you do it Howard?" she said, muffled against his chest. "Why did you kill them? If you cared about them so much? Why did you kill them?"

Howard closed his eyes, breathing in her scent. She thought he wasn't going to answer, until he said "When I was young, I had a pet chick. It was so beautiful, so fragile. I loved it so much, that I wanted it near me at all times. One day, I took it to bed, wanting it by me while I slept. It wasn't until the morning that I realized that I had rolled over and smothered it in my sleep. I had killed it - killed it with too much love. I think that's what I did with those girls. I loved them too much." He withdrew slightly from her, and tilted her head so she was forced to look into his eyes. "But I won't do that with you Catherine. I've promised myself that you know. While I was in that prison, all I could think about was you."

"You were angry at me," Catherine said, tensing her body.

"Yes, I was. But also, I respected you. You were only doing your job. I know this. But now, there is no job. There's nothing keeping us apart. There's only you and me."

"There's no you and me Howard," Catherine said, now trying to twist out of his grip. "There's only you and your delusions."

"They are not delusions if I can make them come true," he said and her eyes widened as she felt a needle prick her from the backside.

"Howard- what are you-"

He kissed her roughly on the mouth, and she bit down hard, drawing blood in the process. He withdrew from her and wiped the blood off his lips with the backside of his hand. Instead of the grimace of pain she expected, she was rewarded with a grin. He released her from his grip, and she backed away slowly from him, stumbling on the chair behind her. She frantically looked around for a weapon and settled on the steak knife that had been on the table.

Howard shook his finger at her. "Catherine, do you really think that'll hurt me?"

She looked down at the dull knife, gripping it tightly in her hands. When she looked up, he had closed the space between them within lightening speed and forced her hand back. The knife fell to the floor with a loud clatter.

He picked her up effortlessly and carried her over to the bed. She fought, fought harder than her body would allow, but he held her down like a rag doll. She kicked from underneath him, but he pulled her arms back over her head anyway, handcuffing her painfully to the headboard once more. She pulled against the cuffs, only in succeeding in rubbing them red and raw as he slid his knee between her legs and forced them apart. She could feel the drug working its way through her system, and she knew that it was only a matter of time before it overtook her.

"This isn't - this isn't love Howard," Catherine said weakly as she watched him unbuckle his belt. "Don't do this. Please," she begged.

He looked up from his task, and ran a finger down her face, as he had when she first woke up in this horrible place. "It is love Catherine. It's love in its purest form."

And after those words, Catherine's world came crashing down.