With only a small amount of my assistance Deb has managed to track down my calculating fiend. He is a banker or accountant or something equally unassuming which would result in his neighbors saying "He always seemed like such a nice guy." I wonder who taught him how to blend in.
I watch the interview on the tv in the office. Deb is playing it well. Her time interacting with me allows her special access to these kinds of sociopaths. Despite her efforts he is not looking to brag. And even though our evidence is decent, it's not enough to keep him. Deb's hopes of getting his confession have been misplaced.
He gives Deb a look as she leaves the interview room and my blood runs cold. Her unsuccessful attack has put her on his radar. And unfortunately, Deb is exactly his type. Looks like I have something else to worry about now.
Angel and I are in a stalemate for the time being. He saw what happened when Maria tried to arrest me and he knows no one will believe him. He can't turn to Deb and without LaGuerta he has no close friends in the upper echelon to go to. And of course he's concerned for his life. He tries to act normal with me but he kind of sucks at it. I worry he will turn to Quinn, who has doubted me for long enough, and will side with Angel readily. But apparently, Angel hasn't figured that out yet. At least he hasn't mentioned anything to Jaime. I guess he realizes she's safe as long as she doesn't know.
I sit outside of Angel's house and wait. I can't decide what to do. Deb and I have discussed nothing and I have no desire to broach the subject with her. If I decide to kill Angel she will not be helping me. We both know that already. But neither of us is sure whether she will try to talk me out of it. I start my engine and head towards Deb's house. I want her to stay out of it, but I also need to figure out what is going on in her head.
I see the car parked a few doors down from Deb's house. In the pale moonlight I can make out the shape of a sole occupant, watching the house carefully. Seems I was right about Deb's new buddy. I know it will be several days more before he will strike, but I'm still glad that Deb will not be alone tonight. I park in the drive and walk up to her door, pretending not to notice I'm being watched.
Deb is tensely pacing between her living room and kitchen when I knock on the door. She scowls at me when she sees me and moves to let me in.
"I can't let you fucking go near Angel. You hear me?" Her voice is a harsh reprimand.
"What do you expect me to do then? You want him to get even closer? Like LaGuerta did? It's only a matter of time before he starts to suspect you then." I'm incredibly frustrated that she feels the need to interfere as usual.
"God fucking damn it! Haven't I fucking done enough?!" She pushes against me. She's teetering on the edge of something dangerous. "After what I did…" She looks at me desperately. She still can't say it out loud.
"That's why you need to let me handle this." It comes out as a half growl, an almost threat. "Let me deal with Angel."
"You mean let you fucking kill him?!" She's shrieking now, her voice breaking over the words. "Cause that's what it all comes down to, right Dex?"
"It's necessary. I have to protect you. Why are you trying to make it harder to do that?"
"I don't need that kind of fucked up protection." She frowns at me. It fuels my frustration and I feel the seams bursting.
"Yes you do!" I'm screaming now too. "I have protected you from the beginning and I always will whether you like it or not! That's what I want to do with Angel and what I wanted to do with LaGuerta and Hannah. If I protected you from my brother then I will damn well protect you from whoever else I need to!"
We stare at each other for a long time and I watch as Deb's eyes slowly widen. When she finally speaks I have to strain to hear her. "What did you do?" Her expression is blank as she waits for an answer.
I finally find my voice. "What I had to do." She doesn't need more of an explanation, the pieces are easy to put together.
"For me?" I can see her grasp onto it. This idea that I had chosen her. I take a step closer to her and reach for her as I tell her "Yes."
She's shaking when I wrap my arms around her and press a kiss to her forehead. She crumbles into me slowly. She's not crying, but as I hold her she only seems to shake more. My lips find her neck and I kiss her there. She gasps, but her arms slide around to my back and the shaking seems to decrease. I kiss further down her neck, across her collarbone, push aside her shirt so I can find my way over her shoulder. She whimpers and I pull back. Her eyes are hooded, a new sort of heat emanating from them. She looks different than when I normally touch her. The cold hardness in her eyes replaced by a warmth and passion I have never witnessed. It fills me up, leaves me gasping for air and my heart racing.
She leans towards me, her lips finding mine. The kiss is unexpected and so completely new. The ferocity of her previous kisses gone and replaced by a tenderness I didn't know we could find. I catch my hands sliding up her back, under her shirt as she deepens the kiss. Our feet are moving of their own accord as we strip off pieces of clothing. We're half naked in her bedroom before I have really registered what is happening.
I stop and pull back and she thinks I am abandoning her. She makes a protesting noise, but in the next moment I am laying her down on the bed. I hover over her and stare, trying to absorb the moment. Locking away a memory because I worry she will never be like this with me again.
We make love for the first time. It's slow and sweet and every moan from her lips thrills me. She allows me on top, in control. Her long legs wrap around my hips. Her fingers brush across my skin. Tonight we are not monsters. Tonight I am home.
We lay naked and entwined in her bed. I cover Deb's hand with my own over my chest and listen to her soft breathing. She hasn't said anything, but I know she is awake and worrying over the problem with Angel. There aren't a lot of options left to us, but there is one we haven't discussed.
"We could leave Miami." I say it with hesitation. It takes her so long to say anything that I look down at her and find her staring at me.
"We could take Harrison, leave the country." My voice takes on a conviction as I say this, but I'm not sure I feel it.
"That's what Dad would have wanted you do to." Deb's voice is flat.
"Yes, he told me it might come to that."
"Is that what you really want?"
I think about this for a long time. Should we escape? Make a new life in a new country? We could tell people we are married, that Harrison is our son. We could become some quiet American family in a foreign country with new identities. No one would think anything of the unobtrusive husband and father with the murderous hobby.
I stop ruminating and look back down at Deb. "What do you want?"
She seems nearly perplexed by my question. When she answers she sounds resigned. "I don't know anymore Dex."