Previously on Dexter...
Do you know where you are?
- Ambulance. What happened? - You were in an accident.
Bad news is that you sustained a concussion.
I'd like to keep you here for observation.
Dexter! Oh, my God!
- You all right? - I'm fine. Just a little fender bender.
Doc says I'm good to go.
You got a minute?
I'd like to pick your brain.
Lisa Bell?
The girl in the bathtub.
Of course. The Trinity Killer's most recent victim.
Trinity is going to kill again.
Another woman. Older than Lisa Bell this time.
The person that you should really be talking to is my sister. She's lead on Lisa Bell.
You sure that's a good call? Given our history.
I wouldn't want to mislead you. What I have with Anton. It's... It's great.
I fucking love you.
The reason I'm in Miami is because I'm convinced
these bathtub murders are connected to a series of murders all over the country.
Christ. I'm an idiot.
Debra!
Tell me again this isn't crazy.
Crazy good.
I brought you a copy of my article.
"A string of robberies turned deadly in what authorities
"are now calling the Vacation Murder."
Found your guy. Name's Johnny Rose.
Briefing room in five minutes. Strategy meeting.
Dexter's turned up a lead on our shooter.
Don't sweat it, Quinn.
I've got much bigger things to worry about.
I thought it was a fender bender.
I'm sure there's a bent fender somewhere in this mess.
Oh, my God.
- Rita, what are you doing here? - You lied to me, Dexter.
The backyard barbecue.
It's a holdover from the last ice age when food was scarce
and men had to work together to take down such a large beast.
Those who worked well with others survived,
and their genes have been passed down through the centuries
until they landed here,
in this...
my community.
Soda?
Whatever.
How about you?
I'm good.
Ah, wasted youth.
Hey, can I talk to you for a second?
Yeah.
I just got off the phone with Dr. Montgomery,
the doctor that took care of you after your accident.
Oh, right.
Why didn't you tell me you had a concussion?
I just wanted to keep you from worrying.
You already have so much to deal with.
The doctor also told you you weren't supposed to drive
for the next ten days, and you didn't listen.
So I will now be doing all your driving.
I will take you to work in the morning and pick you up at the end of the day.
- Rita, I'm perfectly capable... - Dexter.
The past few weeks, you have not been the most present father and husband.
Remember, we're a team here, right?
OK? We work together.
She's right. Maybe now's the time to turn that around, score a few points.
Which will then make Rita more likely to say yes
when I need a little time for myself.
You're right.
I'm sorry.
Thank you. Let's go eat.
So I guess you saw somebody bashed in Kate's birdbath.
I know, that's awful.
Poor birds.
And poor Kate.
Why would someone do such a thing?
For the same reason he knocked over the Andersons' fountain,
pulled down the Garcias' basketball hoop
and spray-painted the Schwarzes' trash cans. He's a dick.
He knocked the sea horse off my mailbox, too.
I hated that sea horse.
Well, your mom picked it out.
- You know Andy. - Uh, yeah, of course.
Hi, how are you doing? Hey, Jess. Jess. Jess?
Do you really need to be doing that?
Yeah, I really do.
His wife passed away last year.
So, um, so about this neighborhood vandal.
We all need to work together to deal with this guy.
The last thing we need is a dangerous presence in our neighborhood.
You know, it's a funny thing, Dexter. This all started to happen time you moved in.
A little suspicious, don't you think?
I'm just busting your chops.
- Oh.
My chops are busted.
The danger of community is that the people who don't belong
are looked upon with suspicion.
Those of us who prefer to work by ourselves,
the Ione wolves, risk being singled out.
Cody. What's that?
Waah!
- I'm gonna get you! - Oh, I'm scared!
So I become an expert at blending in, camouflaging myself,
becoming one of the guys.
- Astor, what's that?
Oh, my God!
Dexter!
I'm so humiliated.
What were you thinking?
She was wearing a bathing suit.
This blending-in thing isn't as easy as it looks.
We're here.
Stop right here.
It's OK.
Oh!
Oh, God, please don't hurt me.
Oh, God! Oh, God!
Don't do anything stupid.
Careful, now.
- Wouldn't want to hurt yourself.
It's pretty, isn't it?
OK, now. It's time for you to jump.
What?
God, no.
Yes. It always ends like this.
- No, but... - Shh.
It's already over.
Why are you doing this to me?
You know I'm not to blame here.
Oh, God!
- Come on, now. - Oh no.
Please, no!
You just need to let go...
and fall.
Please, I'll do anything.
- Good. Jump. - No, I can't!
- You can. - I have children!
I know. Jason and Susie.
If you like, I can swing by your house,
put an ice pick in your husband's head,
and bring your kids back and throw them off one at a time
till you finally decide to jump.
Is that what you want?
Please...
- What? - Please.
Just push me.
Doesn't work that way.
Jump.
Oh...
Mommy.
You've only been here a month and they've already got you tagged.
It's not just me. There are other houses.
Dex, we've been through this before. 11th grade.
Bunch of kids T.P. ed the house.
And you made me clean it up.
Because it raised questions, Dexter.
It would have made people think, "Why this kid? Why him?"
You can't afford to have people asking those questions.
No one's asking questions.
Getting married, having a kid,
moving here...
I know you're under a lot of pressure.
Yeah, I am.
But you can't let things slip.
I'm not slipping. But somebody is.
How come you never make the coffee, even if you're up first?
'Cause I don't want it bad enough to make it.
I don't even know what to say to that.
If there was chocolate cake here I would eat it,
but I sure as hell don't want to bake one.
- Hey! Good news! - Yeah?
Yeah, the Sandpiper Hotel wants to book my band for a one-month gig.
- Three nights a week. - Wow, that's great.
No more cruise ships.
And best of all, it means no more time away from you.
Really?
Yeah, I'll be here every day.
Going to bed with you every night. Waking up with you every morning.
Waiting for you to make me coffee.
OK, if I count yesterday,
then this is day two of me being the best husband in the world.
I can last another five days.
I really need to stop for a coffee someplace.
You already had a coffee.
Really, I started Saturday afternoon, so it's actually been more like 2½ days.
Only 4½ to go.
I'm never gonna make it.
As far as our Vacation Murder suspect, Johnny Rose,
we've still come up with nothing.
We've spoken to his mother, his sister, his past two employers...
Everyone in his building, his mailman, the liquor store guy across the street.
So no one's talking.
We have his immediate family members under surveillance,
- but we're still not getting any hits. - Well, expand the search.
Draw up a new list of subjects.
Morgan, where do we stand on the Lisa Bell murder?
Somewhere in the middle of Shit Creek.
Well, find a paddle, or I'm moving you onto the Vacation Murder with the rest of us.
Finding Johnny Rose is our number-one priority.
- Yes, ma'am. - Dexter. Hey.
Uh, hi.
Quick question - do you like the Dolphins?
I'm really more of a manatee guy, but sure.
Club level seats.
- Enjoy. - Why?
I can't go.
And I asked myself who's a friend that I could give 'em to?
So I thought of you.
Miami Dolphins. Football.
Club level?
Jeez, who do I gotta fuck to get those kind of tickets?
Here.
No fucking.
Dude.
All right, listen up. We got a report of a female body found at the old port.
Looks like a jumper. Who wants it?
Sounds exciting, sarge,
but I think I'm gonna hold out for a cat stuck in a tree.
Huh, I wonder if that's the woman Lundy predicted.
We'll take it.
OK.
Unless she landed on a pile of marshmallows, there's gonna be blood.
- Grab your kit. - Sure, I'll follow you there.
Ha-ha! Not a chance, concussion-boy. Rita said no driving for you.
- You're coming with us.
Climb in the back, Dexter. You'll be right on the subwoofer.
You can feel the bass in your spine.
Loud!
Female. Caucasian. Mid-thirties, I'm guessing.
if this is the latest victim of Lundy's Trinity Killer,
then he's a very different monster than I am.
Cause of death?
Gravity.
Why her? Why here?
What is Trinity's code?
Does he have one?
No sign of a struggle. No pre-mortem bruising.
No ligature marks.
It's looking like a suicide to me.
Oh, well, if it isn't Special Agent Grandpa.
- Shut up, Quinn. - Detectives.
- Morgan. - Agent Lundy.
Masuka.
Cool hat.
You have a name yet?
Driver's license in her car says Tarla Grant from Fort Lauderdale.
So what brings you to our little suicide?
Just observing.
You're a little quick to decide it's a suicide.
Still has herjewelry, her wallet. Wasn't robbed.
Why would she drive from Fort Lauderdale
- to jump off this abandoned warehouse? - Maybe she liked seagulls.
Until we know one way or the other, I'll treat this as a homicide if that's OK with you.
All right.
You two, on the sixth floor. The rest of you, search the grounds.
Victim - Tarla Grant.
Thirties...
So, listen...
I want to apologize for being such a douche the other night.
No need.
We're all allowed to be the occasional douche.
Thanks.
It was pretty embarrassing.
Debra, if we're being completely honest here,
then, uh, yes, I did come to Miami to follow a case.
But... I have to admit that...
I'm glad the killer chose this city,
knowing I'd find you here.
So is Dexter right? Did you predict this jumper?
What I did was suggest that if Trinity held to his pattern,
we could expect to see another woman die soon.
Is this her?
Little early to tell.
But you might want to check your missing persons reports.
I wouldn't be surprised to discover that she's married with two kids.
What else?
I'm very curious to know if there was a similar death at this site 30 years ago.
I make my bodies disappear.
Trinity leaves his out in the open,
supremely confident that no one will ever trace them to him,
decade after decade...
after decade.
Thanks for the ride.
Anytime, partner.
Great - security lights.
Just what every serial killer needs.
What are you looking at?
- Oh. - Dexter!
Did you get my message about the neighborhood watch meeting?
Actually, no, I didn't.
This is my community. I am one of you.
Uh, great. Love having the neighbors over.
- Are you ready to fight crime, Dexter? - You betcha.
That's good. Be aware of your neighbors.
Know their schedules. That way you'll know if something's different,
- if anything seems off. - We don't want that.
Here, have a whistle and a head flashlight.
It'll keep your hands free when you're out patrolling.
Patrolling? We're patrolling?
Your job is to watch and report, watch and report.
- Watch and report. - You got it.
Community college for me now.
Dexter, our neighborhood beautification association asked me to give this to you.
I'm the secretary. It's a warning against the graffiti on your gate.
I know it's silly, but they want you to repaint.
Hey, Dex.
I guess you saw the new motion-detector lights I just put in.
Sure are bright.
Yeah, brightest I could get.
Made sure I angled one right on your place, too.
That's very neighborly of you.
We have to look after each other.
Yeah, this guy started off small, a few broken windows, Andy's mailbox,
but yesterday he broke into the Walkers' guesthouse and trashed the place.
Yeah, next thing he'll be stealing our women.
Can't let him steal our women now, can we?
No, they're our women.
- Is that the sign-up sheet? - Yeah, yeah.
We're setting up patrols for every night of the week.
I'm good for every night but Wednesday. I got a poker night at the lodge.
Great.
No one will come in or out of this neighborhood unnoticed.
lncluding me.
It's not the neighborhood vandal I'm worried about, it's the neighborhood watch.
Hmm, graffiti.
Excuse me.
So I was all set to go to the University of Miami next year
till my dad decided to get himself laid off.
That blows.
How about you, Jesse?
You want to sign up for the neighborhood watch?
Sounds kind of lame.
So lame.
Paint can, soda can. I'm thinking fingerprints.
Let me get that for you.
And I know one little lady who is up past her bedtime.
Mom!
Dexter, you can't treat her like a little girl anymore.
I can't?
Hey, Dex.
Hey, Elliot.
Have a nice day!
You knew this day would come, Dexter.
You've always been good with kids, but eventually they grow up.
They become more mature,
develop complex emotions that just aren't in your skill set.
Astor's becoming a whole person, and you're...
Something less.
I hope you're not taking any of this seriously,
the wife, the kids, the house in the 'burbs.
It's all great camouflage, but that's all it is.
It's gotten more complicated than that.
Then uncomplicate it.
You need to realize your limitations. Remember exactly who you are.
Probably should have used something a little darker.
It's fine, Dad. Nothing's gonna show through.
I hope not, Dex. For your sake.
- Hey, you ready to go? - Almost.
I've got The Best OfBananarama.
It's a cruel summer.
As long as the neighborhood vandal keeps my neighbors on edge,
I will have no privacy.
And I'm not going to let you do that to me, Jesse.
Tarla Grant, married, mother of two.
It fits.
- Fits what? - Lundy's theory.
That she's another victim of the serial killer?
Yes.
- What? - His whole life is about serial killers.
That's all he thinks about, so of course he thinks she was killed by a serial killer.
I think he's a little smarter than that.
I'm sure you do, otherwise you wouldn't be sitting at your desk
going through 30-year-old files all afternoon.
Oh, yeah? Guess what. So are you.
Just unsealed the juvey records of Johnny Rose,
our Vacation Murder suspect.
Anything?
Shoplifting with his high school girlfriend, Nikki Wald.
That was like, what, ten years ago? You think they're still in touch?
Since she testified against him back then, I'd say extremely unlikely.
Well, at this point, I think we need to take any shot we can.
She lives in Oakland Park. I'll drive out there with you.
Let's go.
That seem accidental and unplanned to you?
Even I believed it.
I was thinking we could stop somewhere for lunch first.
I know a little place where we can order some room service.
OK, here we go. 30 years ago to the week.
Female, Caucasian, 36, mother of two.
Jumped to her death off the same warehouse.
The woman's family insisted she was the victim of foul play,
- but it was ruled a suicide. - Doesn't mean fuck all.
Someone fell orjumped off the same warehouse eight years ago.
Someone else jumped off a ship loading crane on the same pier back in '86,
and another body washed up on the rocks
right in front of the warehouse only two years ago.
Nobody knows how it got there.
This is Miami, Deb. People die.
And sometimes it's by murder. I want to follow up on this.
OK, Tarla Grant seemed to have a pretty decent life.
No apparent reason for suicide, so keep it open for now.
Fuckin'-A we'll keep it open.
I'd know that foul mouth anywhere.
Anton, what are you doing here?
I love you too, baby. Come on, let's have some lunch.
I have a fuckload of work to do.
All right.
All right, but it's a working lunch.
Ah, solitude.
Something I won't enjoy again until I deal with Jesse,
the neighborhood shithead.
Hey, Dexter.
Hey.
Dexter, I was looking for you. Hello, Debra.
- Hi. - May I?
Yeah.
Frank Lundy.
- Anton Briggs. - My lover...
Friend. My boyfriend.
All of the above.
So, Dexter, I was wondering
if you'd gotten the blood tox results back on Tarla Grant yet?
Yeah, I should check on that right away.
- Please, finish your lunch. - Mm.
All done.
Tarla Grant, just like you said. 36 years old, married, mother of two.
- That's a shame. - I found a matching 30-year-old case.
- What's that? - Big case we're working on.
I'm afraid I've enlisted Debra in another of my mad theories.
Ah.
What's it all about?
Finding out who killed her.
I don't suppose you happened to bring the...
30-year-old file?
Read the husband's statement from 30 years ago.
Family never believed it was a suicide.
But since Trinity never leaves a trace, there was nothing to investigate.
You give good room service, Angel.
You know, uh, we should do lunch out more often.
Missed one.
No arrests since she got busted with Rose back in high school.
Spotty job record, but that's about it.
It's a stretch, I know.
Nikki?
Nikki Wald?
Hmm. I'm not sure Miss Nikki Wald is home.
OK.
Hey, I'm Sergeant Batista from Miami Metro homicide.
- It's Rose. - Get down!
Shots fired, 41st and Andrews. We need backup!
- Good? - Yeah, I'm good, let's go.
Suspects Johnny Rose and Nikki Wald going northbound
on 41st Street in a white sedan.
- I think it was gray. - A light-colored sedan.
Make? Model?
Suspects are armed and dangerous.
Rita thinks I'm with the neighborhood watch.
Truth is, I'm gonna do a little more than watch.
There's dad, off to his weekly poker game.
And if I were the delinquent son...
I would take advantage of my father's absence.
Going after him feels very familiar,
except it won't have its usual satisfying ending.
The best I can do is scare a little sense into this kid.
Hey! Come on, it's the vandal. Let's get him!
- Oh, fuck.
It's watch and report, assholes, not watch and chase.
This is so humiliating.
Go that way.
This neighborhood's gonna kill me.
Already? The kids aren't even dressed yet.
I know, I know, I'm early. Just wanted you to see the latest work of the vandal.
Happened in the middle of the night.
He obviously smashed the window, released the emergency brake,
Gave it a shove, and, uh, let it roll.
Oh, that's so dangerous.
Is that Cody's bike?
Oh, my God.
What if he had been out here playing?
These dummies share the same size and weight distribution as our victim.
At this height, any variant in trajectory
resulting from a simple jump or being pushed off the building
will be evident in where they land.
What if she took a running leap?
People don't kill themselves that way. They just let go.
Oh, hey, either of you interested in buying tickets to the Dolphins game?
Club level? I'll let them go for 500 bucks.
- Where'd you get those? - Dexter.
Son of a bitch.
Come on, we have dummies to drop.
Is he gonna pay me for those?
Must be weird for you, Lundy coming back.
Why would it be weird? You're weird.
None of my business, I know.
But...
if I loved someone, and that person was gone,
and then I moved on, and then found someone else,
and then the first person suddenly showed up again...
I don't know, I've never had that problem.
But it's gotta be a little confusing.
Maybe.
A little.
So then maybe if you know that it's supposed to be weird and confusing,
then maybe it's a little easier to handle.
Thanks.
It's always the same three kills with Trinity -
a young woman in a bathtub,
followed by a mother falling to her death,
and ending with a man getting bludgeoned.
I put her in a short skirt so that we can see her panties while she's falling.
Specific.
How many times that you know of?
I've got the bits and pieces that add up to at least 15 cycles.
Since we just turned the clock back another 15 years...
I'm sure there are considerably more.
Wow.
That's impressive.
In a very evil way.
What's really impressive is that I can't prove a thing.
Could never get anyone at the Bureau convinced. He's that good.
Why do you think he's so successful?
Trinity's likely someone who's gone his own solitary way through life,
so preoccupied with his own obsessions
that he's foregone all but the most rudimentary of human connections.
A lone wolf.
Exactly.
It's a little bit disturbing.
- Yeah. - I mean...
I could just as well be talking about myself.
Sure, I've been married.
Was married for 29 years, happily.
But even so,
the only thing that really got my heart beating was the hunt.
I'm sure you can't relate.
No, sorry.
And now here I am at 60,
watching dummies fly off a roof,
still on the hunt.
It sounds like Trinity is worthy prey.
What's really got me intrigued is the notion that he's returned to Miami.
He's come home.
I'm not sure "home" is the right word.
People like us don't really belong anywhere.
We just pass through.
Drink up.
You're next.
The Vacation Murders.
Word is, you know who Johnny Rose's accomplice is.
Forget it, you'll get the press release same time as everyone else.
But my sergeant and lieutenant were almost killed yesterday,
so if you put any negative spin on it, I'll be very angry.
When you're angry, you're very sexy,
so this could be sort of a win-win for me.
Let's just say I'll be angry in a very withholding sort of way.
OK.
- The bathtub murder? - Still under investigation.
The jumper at the old port building?
Ditto.
I gotta run. See you tonight?
Sure.
Can you just go over the figures one more time?
They're not gonna change.
The test results indicate that Tarla Grant jumped rather than was pushed.
I don't buy it. I think we're looking at a murder victim.
Deb, we also got the autopsy report. She had a small tumor.
Talked to the husband. They just found out last week.
Maybe she was taking the easy way out.
Maybe she was determined to fight it. That doesn't mean she killed herself.
I checked her cell phone records.
No text messages, no suicide note.
Not everyone leaves a note.
I just got word. We will be debriefed on our shooting incident In the morning.
OK, good.
We need to get our stories straight about why we left the precinct at 12:30
and didn't get to Wald's apartment until after 3:00.
We grabbed some lunch and then we had a flat tire.
Flat tire it is.
You OK?
I've read Masuka's notes.
That, along with the autopsy reports, leads me to believe that there's no reason
to keep Tarla's case open as a murder investigation.
Lieutenant, I think it's premature to close it. Lundy has this theory...
You don't work for Lundy. You're welcome to pursue this,
but between the Vacation Murders and Lisa Bell,
I think you're gonna be very busy.
You're on your own with this one.
Poor Cody.
Ouch.
- Where'd the glass come from? - That car on Elliot's lawn.
Cody was coming back from their pool and he stepped on a piece.
Does it need stitches?
No, he's fine, he's just scared.
First his bike, now this.
Poor guy. Give him a hug for me.
Hi.
Help me out here, Dexter.
I've been going out of my way to make things good with you,
but no matter what I do, you just throw it back in my face.
You don't need to make things good with me.
Come on, what's it gonna take?
Quinn...
I don't care if you're a dirty cop.
If I didn't take that money, it would just sit inside a locker until some fatass
who sits behind a desk grabs it to buy new carpet for his office which he never leaves.
I put my life on the line every day.
I give this job everything I've got,
and I can't even afford a down payment on a condo.
I thought you had family money.
Had, and that has nothing to do with anything. Just don't fucking call me dirty.
The last thing I need is a cop mad at me.
Look...
you're right, I take it all back.
I honestly...
don't give a shit.
Just keep my sister out of it, OK?
You don't understand any of this, do you?
You can't,
'cause you're not a cop.
- You're not one of us.
Cops, another community I'm not part of.
What?
It's so crowded in there.
Well, I guess so. A wife and three kids.
They're always there.
Tell me about it.
It was easy living with Anton when he was never home.
I'd come back to a quiet apartment
and unwind without having to deal with anybody.
Now, as soon as I walk through the door, he's there, waiting to engage.
There's no escape.
And now Lundy shows up.
Is that good or bad?
I have no fucking clue.
- What?
We're complaining because people want to be with us?
How lame is that?
You think Tarla Grant killed herself?
No, I don't.
Masuka said she wasn't thrown or pushed from the building.
She jumped. What would make her do that?
Fear is a powerful motivator.
You should go inside. You're home.
- Thanks. - Yeah.
- Hi. - Hi, sweetie.
Where is everybody?
I'm in here.
Fort Cody.
Hey, buddy, how's your foot?
It's better.
Good.
- Keep holding down the fort. - OK.
And I'll take care of my end once you guys go to sleep tonight.
You may want to talk to Astor.
This is one of those moments when I wish I was like everyone else.
I'm sure other people would know what to say.
Hey.
I know you're not a little kid anymore.
Duh.
I'm sorry.
It's just...
sometimes I'm...
dumb.
It's OK.
You can be dumb.
Thanks.
What?
It's funny.
A few months ago, after a shoot-up like this,
people saw me leaning against you, they wouldn't think twice.
They still wouldn't think twice. They don't know anything about us.
I know.
But I think twice.
I'm constantly worried that people will misinterpret.
Let them misinterpret.
Hey...
I need this as much as you do.
This Dexter guy.
First of all, who the fuck is named Dexter?
Oh, that feels good.
What, did his parents know he was gonna grow up to be a fucking egghead?
I met him. He seems OK.
He's a lab geek.
Fuck, that feels good.
What else?
What else? I'm exhausted.
I spent all afternoon in the sun throwing dummies off a warehouse...
'cause super agent Lundy has a hunch that
the dead woman is connected to this big serial killer case.
Hmm, really?
Oh, yeah. Lundy always gets his man.
Yeah?
- Well, so do I.
This is where I first noticed the pattern.
Raleigh, North Carolina, 1993.
That got you curious?
Then I found San Francisco, Louisville,
Detroit, Richmond.
Eight different cities in all that I know of.
Never the same place twice.
Until now.
Ready for another?
Oh. Yeah.
So now this is your little retirement project?
You're completely incapable of relaxing, aren't you?
That's just it. This is how I relax.
I get the scent of a bad guy, I can feel my blood pressure go down.
And I thought I was bad.
You are.
You're exactly the same as me,
just... in a much prettier package.
Are you flirting with me, Agent Lundy?
Simply stating the truth, miss.
Thank you.
Excuse me just a second.
Hey.
Hey, so, um, you want me to order some takeout?
Uh... I'm still working, so I'll just grab something here.
OK, well, I love you, babe.
Me too.
Ah, Jesse, hard at work. Big surprise.
I'm gonna wait in your room and scare the shit out of you.
Jesse.
if you're in here...
Andy!
Apparently I'm not the only one who isn't exactly what he seems.
Is that the wrench you use to break windows?
- What the heck? - Don't move.
OK, what's going on? Who are you?
You're gonna stop breaking things, stop rolling cars down the street.
stop everything you've been doing.
If you so much as touch another window, I will come back here,
and I will leave with your head in a bag.
I already have the bag.
Fuck you!
Let go of me, you fucking asshole!
Fuck!
You really don't know what you're doing here.
I know exactly what I want to fucking do, piece of fucking shit.
You should've seen their faces.
Those boxes in their driveways with their big fucking flat-screen TVs.
"Oh, look at us, aren't we so fucking rich?"
Huh?
They're lucky the only thing I broke was their fucking windows.
And you're lucky I don't break your fucking neck.
- It's over. - Fuck you, it's over.
- Give up. - No!
I played by the rules my entire life. And look what it got me.
My wife's dead. I lost my job.
My son hates me. And now...
The bank wants to take my house away.
So if you want to take my fucking head, you take it.
I said stop! You want me to come back for your son's head too?
What? No!
Not my boy!
It's all I have!
You're gonna save what's left of your family, save what's left of yourself.
Because all that other stuff...
is over.
Say it.
Yeah, it's over.
Bad news for Andy is he's lost his house.
Good news for me is he'll be out of the neighborhood.
But why should I care about him? It's his world.
People like him made it this way.
At least he had a chance to belong.
It's still there, Dex.
A stain so deep it can't be erased.