The slap felt good, because it put an end to all this. Not just the argument but oh, he wanted that over. But the whole relationship, this whole apparent facade of acceptance and love and change, this lie they had told themselves, she had told him-- that was done too. She wanted to love the man he was becoming here, was trying to become, but he was only a pale projection compared to what Mitchell really was. He was an attempt to mask all the terrible things he had done. The terrible things were still there, though. That other man was still there, underneath his skin. And Sookie wanted nothing to do with him.

She shouldn't. It was only right. Who wanted to love a killer? Who in their right mind would want to be with a man like Mitchell?

Her words were what stung the most and for one fleeting second he really did want to hurt her. Destroy their relationship, fine. That was her choice. But the threat -- and he read it as a threat -- to his friends, to the family he had built, that he couldn't stand. (Even if, and this made it worse, a voice in his head said she was right.)

The door shut behind her and he let out a howl of rage, a half-formed curse spilling out of his lips as he took up the damn notebook and hurled it at the door. It fell with a dull sound to the ground and Mitchell retreated to his room, slamming the door behind him.