The next day with Dexter was an odd one for Elizabeth. She woke up and Dexter was gone which made her panic for a few moments.
Looking around she sat up and slipped off the bed. She slowly approached the door, her clothes abandoned to the floor. As she got closer to the door she could smell the lightest hint of bacon in the air. She opened the door and peered her head out. She didn't see him but she could hear the tell tale signs of food cooking. She was hesitant about leaving the sanctity of the room but she abandoned it as her stomach knotted painfully in hunger.
Slowly Elizabeth tip toed out into the living area peering around the corner to see Dexter there cooking food. She watched for a few moments before he looked up to her and smiled. "Hungry?" he asked her. She stared a moment longer before she came out from her corner. "Very," she said to him with a growing grin. "Did we really?"
He nodded as he turned and placed a plate filled with food on the counter for her. He gave her a once over before he went back to eating. "I'm a closet nudist," she said to him as if she knew what he was thinking.
"I was just appreciating," he said flipping the burner off. raising an eyebrow she got up onto a chair and picked up her fork before she started to eat looking at Dexter more then she was at her food. He moved like a sheep but under that facade he was a wolf and it amazed her. How did he fit in so well. Even she didn't feel that comfortable in her own skin. She suddenly felt highly uncomfortable without any clothes on. "How do you do that?" she said pointing at him with her fork and indicating to his whole being.
"Blend so well," she said tilting her head to the side and looking at him like a new angle would help her figure it out.
"I had a good teacher."
"You're the prodigy of a serial killer?" she said the shock apparent in her voice as she stared at him with a furrowed brow. The shake to his head brought out a firmer look, the predator within tensing at the question. It was almost too beautiful to watch as he fought the instincts.
"No," he said to her.
"My dad knew what I was. I have a code," he said as if that explained it all.
"Don't we all," she breathed at him before taking a bite of the bacon, her wicked alligator grin on her face. She wanted to sink her teeth back into his flesh. Feel how good it was again. "What's next?"
He looked up from his plate and shrugged. "I don't know."
There was a few minutes of silence as they both at. She chewed thoughtfully on the eggs that she was made before she took in a breath to ask the next question, "What if I asked for your help?"
"What sort of help?" he asked setting down his plate.
"Help to get a target," she licked her lips. This was one of the hardest things she's ever had to do. She still wasn't quite strong enough. Last night she strained herself beyond what she imagined and the throbbing in her side was more painful today. She was surprised she even made it through the night.
Dexter stared at her firmly for a long while. As he stared she could feel the blood rushing past her ears, her teeth ached with the sensation, she wanted to close her eyes and imagine the blood dripping over her skin in a rush. The warmth intoxicating. As she took a long blink he spoke, "Okay. Who did you have in mind?"
"His name is Gregory James," she said to him. "He's a well to do executive that gets off on raping women," she said to him. "That's my code," she explained. "Men who abuse women."
He looked down before he looked up at her. There was a darkness there, his eyes seemed more sunken in, his face seemed more hollow. Was she seeing the real thing now? The thought made her heart thump more loudly against her chest as she got excited just thinking about it. "When?" he asked gruffly.