**Dexter**
She reached for my hand and I felt the mask slipping. I felt the words about to tumble from my mouth. I took hold of her hand, that was bulky from the splint and gave in.
"I have this..darkness inside of me. It's been there since I could remember. I've had this urge, this need to..kill. My father Harry saw it in me when I was younger and trained me to focus this darkness and use it in a way to really do better things than just kill at random. He taught me a code that would give me the safety of not getting caught and to keep me honest and almost make me human. I've never been able to connect with people or feel emotions or really have 'feelings'. With the code, I've been able to almost live a normal life. But when this dark passenger comes for me I get filled with that need to kill again. I always choose people that are murderers and plan on killing innocent people again and again. It's probably the only moral thing about what I do. I try not to let the darkness take hold of me and control my life, but the darkness is me. It's what and who I am." I stopped and looked at Harper and searched her face for disgust or fear and was surprised again to see...understanding.
**Harper**
As Dexter spoke, I thought back to my high school psychology class. We learned about people with "psychopathic" tendencies. The people were described as being completely void of human emotion. The people in the text book were unable of experiencing love, sadness, and especially empathy. I compared Dexter to these people and could not see them being one and the same. The people in the text book would have killed me on the spot and Dexter had something inside him that stopped him from hurting me. While I really just met him, I could already tell that I knew more about Dexter than most of the people in his life.
Even his need to kill didn't scare me, although it should. So much of my life I've been controlled by this power inside of me. It wasn't a desire to seek out dead bodies and experience death over and over again, but it did control me. I had no choice.
"It's almost like your just a vessel for the darkness" I whispered out loud, now understanding the connection I felt with him.
He nodded, his face for the first time didn't look guarded. The darkness was still in his eyes, but his whole face seemed more vulnerable.
"That's it exactly." he replied looking down at our hands that were still intertwined. "Do you still plan on leaving soon?" he asked.
I felt torn. Was an emotional connection with a serial killer something to stay in town for? It sounded crazy but I also felt the longing to escape Miami slip away.
"Yes" I said, pulling my hand out of his. Growing attached and making connections was dangerous territory for me. I realized a long time ago that I wasn't meant to belong to anyone or anything. Changing my ways at the first sign of connection to someone would go against everything I stood for.
"Have lunch with me first? Before you leave?" he asked, his dark eyes penetrating mine.
I sighed inwardly, knowing the wall I was trying to build back up was slipping. "Okay. I'll have to meet with Ann Harris tomorrow anyways", I added, more for my benefit than his.
His eyes narrowed, "Don't tell her about the waitress. She'll just do something stupid with that kind of information."
He was right, that information was just too risky. I'd get dragged into the police station again. I decided to just call Ann in the morning and explain that the butterfly tattoo was no match.
"I'll let you get back to the motel now. I'll come by to pick you up tomorrow around noon. Be careful driving" he said, giving my hand another squeeze and then got out of the car, waving as he passed in front of my car. I watched as he made his way back down the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, keeping his head down. I sighed again, I could feel that nothing good could come out of staying in Miami.