Yes.

Well...maybe.

Yes.

He's older, he's taller, he seems like he's used to getting what he wants, and he's no stranger to booze. Plus, there's the fact that he wouldn't take his stupid coat back, and maybe from the outside, that doesn't seem like it should matter, but after all that time in the hospital, Beth can't look at all those facts and see anything besides the places where things don't balance. All the ways she could end up overpowered or in someone's debt. His debt.

"If I had my knife, maybe." It's not an answer to his question, but if she's afraid of him, she's equally afraid of answering yes or no. The stakes are the same as they were two minutes ago--and if he can move so gracefully between sincerity and this smooth-talking front, how can she trust the way he's implying that she's safe? What's there to trust at all?

(The worst part is, she'd like to. The alternative is starting to exhaust her.)

So sure, she could probably kick his ass, especially if she brought a knife to a fistfight. "But there's no reason to. Right now."