"Killing a man?" Ethan replied, feigning surprise and indignation even as his gut twisted inside of him. "What did I do?" But he couldn't outright deny it. Not even to her. Somehow, hearing her direct accusation brought him right back to the ferry ride to Seattle, to all the confusion and the guilt. Back to the moments when he had still believed that he was a good man. He had forgotten that darkness inside of him, even as he wandered about in the darkness of Chicago. He had been silent and distant from everyone and everything around him, and somehow that had sealed himself away.

Perhaps he should step down off the wall, admit to everything. What could they really do to him? It wasn't as though there was any evidence tying him to Victor's death, and even if he pleaded guilty, what jury in their right mind would convict him? And even if they did, even if they sent him to a maximum security prison, how long would it be before he got tired, or scared, or bored, and walked out of it just as he had walked out of the police station in Seattle? If he did that, he would never be able to live in America again. And this was his home, the whole messed up country in one lovely bundle.

No, his only option was escape, to just keep running until they decided they were done with him. For how long could they chase him?

"Are you worried about me, Bree," he said mockingly, his head tilting to the side, green eyes narrowing. "Are you worried about a murderer?" Was it really indignation that colored his voice such a dark shade, that caused him to dance around on the edge of the wall like some tightrope walker? Or was it that darkness inside of him, that belief that he was better, that he was infallible, and that the power he held gave him the right to torment other people, to play with their lives. To end their lives. He glared at her, eyes spitting fire. Before she had arrived he was nothing but a normal man, a man with too much luck, perhaps, but certainly not the dark monster for which he now saw himself. But the glare, even though it was directed at Bree, was far more cruel to his own heart than it could ever be to hers.

He just wanted to go, wanted to get away from this person who drove him to such extremes. He couldn't blame her, he had made his choices, and there was no going back on them now. But he wanted her to vanish. Vanish, and never come back. And all he needed was another minute or two. Another minute to make sure that all the details would come together without fail.