Page 57 of Pretty Stolen Dolls

DIRTY LITTLE DOLL.

The world expands and then closes in around me as my fingers release the doll. It hits the grass with athudand my eyes close for a moment. When I reopen them, I see him, through the crowd staring at me. It’s him. Benny.

It has to be him.

I yank my arm from my jacket, the gun aiming straight out in front of me, my finger on the trigger, ready to end this—to end him.

“Benny!” I shout, moving toward him. He doesn’t move. Simply stares at me through the throng of people.

It’s him.

His eyes hold mine, the hollow pits of hell blazing from them as I get closer and closer.

He wants to die, because he’s not moving. He’s waiting for me to get closer—he’s waiting for me to shoot him. Screams echo all around me and bodies blur in my peripheral as they move at an abnormal speed.

I’m so close.

He looks feral and determined. There’s a smirk on his lips, like he has a secret and I’m not a part of it. He licks his lips—lips that used to know every single part of my body—as that thick, untamed curly hair of his falls over his face, and then…

“Oomph.”

I’m tackled from the side and my ribs ignite in pain. My face hits the dirt and I inhale a mouthful. My chest heaves and I splutter to choke it from my mouth.

Noise roars all around me, making my ears pop. A heavy weight keeps me pinned to the earth.

“Suspect in custody,” a deep voice rumbles from the chest of whoever is holding me down.

My eyes scan the space to where Benny was standing. It’s now empty. As if he was never there.

A ghost.

“Get off me. It’s him,” I cough. “I’m a police officer. Get off. It’s him,” I yell, feeling the veins bulge in my temples.

“It’s him.” Why is no one listening to me?

I’m cuffed and dragged to my feet. A young guy in full uniform smiles at me like he just won the big bear at the carnival.Idiot.I scan the people, the empty spaces—nothing.

“I’m Detective Phillips andwasin pursuit of a very dangerous man,” I hiss out, my ribs hindering me as pressure tightens around my abdomen. If he broke a freaking rib, there will be hell to pay for this idiot.

“I had him, goddammit. I had him.”

“Phillips? Uncuff her now,” a familiar voice barks.

Marcus. Thank God.

“The man who killed the woman in the doll shop,” I wisp out. “He was here. Shut this place down. Don’t let anybody leave.” The world around me tilts as his face doubles. His voice distorts as the sky swirls around and…

“I have a new dress for my pretty doll,” he says. “Do you want to see it?”

No, I want to wear it. I’m freezing to death.

“I need a blanket, Benny,” I murmur, my teeth chattering.

He tosses the dress he was fumbling with for Macy onto his table and marches over to my cell.

“Benjamin,” he barks. “How many fucking times do I have to tell you?”

“I’m freezing, Benjamin,” I placate in hopes he will find mercy in his black, dead heart.

---