"Your bar?" I ask him. "I thought you said you were visiting from Sweden."

"I am visiting. Just long term," he says grinning. "So please, get anything you like."

I smile nervously, and look for Amelia. I find her sitting on a bar stool, flirting with a meat head. Obviously she forgot the drinks anyways. Looking back at the woman named Pam, and order a gin and tonic.

When she hands it to me, I look back at Eric, who hasn't left his post on the seat next to me. "Obviously we keep running into each other. What do you do?"

"Well, I'm a bar owner," he says laughing. "But other than that, I just love to travel. I like to wander around, and experience different things."

"I wish I could do that…" I say trailing off. "I have too many responsibilities at home. I'm a paramedic in Louisiana."

"That is an admirable profession. Saving lives, and what not," he says scooting a little closer to me.

"Look, Eric. I know we keep running into each other, and that's weird. But I'm not ready for anything. And I'm definitely not looking to be anyone's one night stand," I tell him quietly.

"I can wait," he says, putting his hand on my leg. "We can just get to know one another."

"Eric, I just caught my fiancé in my bed with a tramp not a week ago. I haven't even gotten my stuff back from the twat. I won't be ready for a while. I'm sorry," I say as I get up and grab my purse. "Thank you for the drink."

Not waiting for Amelia, I kick my heels off and start walking home. I could have taken a cab, sure, but walking will clear my head. I realize that I haven't confronted the situation with Bill yet. I can't just sit here and bury my head in the sand forever—I have to go home eventually.

When I finally make it to the hotel, I put my shoes back on and head for the elevator. When I make it to my floor, what I see completely shocks me.

"Bill! What the fuck are you doing here? How'd you find me?" I ask him, standing just outside the doors of the elevator.

"Sookie, darling, I just want to make things better," he says, taking a step toward me. "Just let me explain."

"I don't want to hear you explain," I tell him, standing tall. "I want you to go home."

"I'm not going home without you. You. Are. Mine," he says, walking the rest of the way towards me. When he gets to me, he forces a kiss on me, holding my face between his hands. His breath smells like alcohol, and it is revolting.

"Get the fuck off me!" I yell, pulling my face back. When I do, I slap him as hard as I can. The shock on his face is soon replaced by rage. That was expected. It was unexpected, however, when he hit me so hard I fell to the ground.

Before I even have a chance to confront him, though, he is pressed against the wall by a giant, blonde haired man.

"I would recommend that you not ever do that again," Eric growls in Bill's face. "Or else you will get much worse." Eric let his body drop to the ground, and turned around, kneeling beside me on the floor. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I say rubbing my cheek. "I just want him to leave."

With that, Bill looks lethal. "This isn't over Sookie. You can't get rid of me that easily. You. Are. Mine."

Eric stands back up and grabs Bill, holding him against the wall again. "You. Will. Leave. Leave Sookie alone. She left you. Go home."

After giving me one last long look, Bill walks into the elevator, and leaves. "Thank you, Eric. But…why are you here?"

"I saw you leave alone, and I was worried. You don't know these streets very well, and I didn't want anything to happen to you. I'm sorry I was too late," he says, cupping my cheek. "Let me get you inside. Where's your key?"

I hand him the key, and he opens the door for me, ushering me in. I sit down on the couch, and he brings me an ice pack, sitting down beside me.

"So, that was the asshole, huh?" he says, with a small smile.

"Yeah, that was him. And I hope he gets hit by a bus. I don't think he's going to leave me alone," I tell him, looking into his eyes.

"I don't think he will come back here, Sookie."

"You don't know him. Especially now that he's seen you. He's going to think that we're together, and it will make him mad. He's so possessive, and I'm scared, okay?" I tell him, my eyes flooding with tears. "You should leave. Thank you for everything, really, but I need to be alone right now."

I don't look at his face as he walks out the door, nor do I pay attention when the door slams shut behind him. I do, however, feel the overwhelming silence and loneliness accompanying his absence.