Page 78 of Vicious Hearts

The reason Oliver went to all that trouble? Because Max Fisher was thefirstto die. Oliverknewthe kid had a family. A family whocared. He didn't want the body discovered and identified—the trail could have led back to him. It was a sickening stroke of fate that it didn't.

"Anyway," Oliver continues, "even if I did wrong, I did a lot that wasright.I raised millions of dollars for impoverished, neglected, lonely brats everywhere. Do you think the Almighty would begrudge me a few flea-bitten strays? He kills for funtoo, you know. He likes to bring us into His service sometimes. An atom bomb, an earthquake—it's all the same."

I'm crying again. I'm not sure when it started, but it makes Oliver smile.

"Poor Roxanne. All you had to do was keep your fucking nose out of it, butno. You had to make it into a crusade for justice. Farraday is just a marionette, barely sentient. Most people are. Do you know what the Nazis called people like him?"

My vision is foggy, not just from tears but from dizziness. I shake my head to clear it, but Oliver takes that as an answer.

"I thought not. They called themLebensunwertes Leben—'life unworthy of life.' Every single life I took was unworthy, to the extent that it can barely be considered murder at all. It was euthanasia. An act ofmercy."

I drop my chin to my chest, unable to hold up the weight anymore. Oliver's voice seems to come from far away.

"He's not coming for you, is he? Love has abandoned to your fate again."

He bends down and reaches into the crate, taking hold of my chin and pulling my head up so I have to look at him. I'm reminded of Ben doing the same thing, and my heart sinks.

"You're fodder, Roxanne. But you already knew that."

Screaming from upstairs. A woman's voice. Oliver jumps to his feet and picks up his gun. He looks at the ceiling, his eyes darting as he follows the sound.

"I think your hero is here," he says. "If it were the cops, there'd be more of them."

Oh my God. Ben.

The screaming cuts off abruptly. A thud as a body hits the floor.

Oliver reaches for me and smooths the tape back into place over my mouth.

"Won't be long, dear."

* * *

Ten minutes earlier…

Ben

After the scream, I hear nothing more. All is silence.

I move slowly and quietly through the house, even though I want to run. Whether I'm being cautious or just delaying the moment when my life comes to an end, I don't know.

I don't believe I'll die at Oliver Buckley's hands. The little bastard has got it coming to him. But if he's killed Roxy, I may aswellbe dead.

All the things she showed me, and I fuckingrefusedto learn. She tried to get me to understand justice.Truejustice, not the Bratva way where people get murdered, and the details are thrashed out later.

Roxy wanted evidence that Graham Fisher was the killer, but I was happy to believe it because I hated him. Hated him because he put his hands on what was mine. I should have listened to her and not allowed my anger to take the wheel.

I played right into Oliver Buckley's hands. Sure, the cat's out of the bag now, but that's down to Roxy. Her empathy for Simon Farraday and his wife gave them the courage to find their way back to one another.

I thought Roxy was naive, but she isn't and never was. Compassion isn't just a tool to her. It's a superpower.

SheknewSimon Farraday was innocent. She knew Lois would come back to her husband's side. And she could see that Graham Fisher, though a bad person, was incapable of these atrocities. It wasmewho distracted her and forced her mind to follow the path I chose.

She didn't see the potential in Oliver Buckley, but no one else did either. The man is entirely on another plane, if he's a man at all. We may never discover what motivated him, and maybe that's for the best.

The house is not entirely empty. There are some larger pieces of furniture that Lois Farraday couldn't or wouldn't take with her. The windows are boarded up good and solid to dissuade vagrants and vandals. It's darker than I expected, and I feel my way with my feet, peering through the gloom.

A doorway here. As I move my foot, the carpet gives way to what I assume is linoleum. It cracks under my weight, making a noise.

---