Page 21 of Vicious Hearts

Back at my apartment, when I touched her head injury, she seemed to quicken rather than shrink away, and the next thing I knew, she was in my arms. She pulled away quickly, but not before something undeniable had passed between us.

When I grabbed her just now, her fight-or-flight mechanism kicked in, and she lashed out hard. Now she looks confused, angry, and frightened all at once, but I'm sure she's as hot for me as I am for her. Something about me makes her want to run, but that same thing stops her from pushing me away.

"I admire your spirit,charodeyka, but you better get this through your head." My gaze drops to her lips and throat before snapping back to her eyes again. "Believe me when I say that I'm not your sanctuary. Fuck around with me and see how safe you feel. I don't have the strength to resist now that you've hurled yourself into my life again, so don't blame me if you don't like what you get."

This is so fucked up.

Roxy has experienced tremendous trauma and is afraid for her life. She came tomefor help. I want to protect her from anything and everything that could hurt her, but only so I can own her fear and feed myself on it.

She's terrified of me, I can feel it, and it turns me on to a degree that is absolutely fucking obscene. Her sweet, kind nature makes it all the better. It's all part of my unique blend of psychological traits, and it's not healthy.

In Hawaii, I found out she was a virgin, and it totally threw me—enough to prevent myself from fucking her and claiming her as mine. I told myself I didn't want her to waste her first time on me. But the truth is, I want to be her firsteverything. I'm too selfish a person to throw away a second chance.

I hold her chin firmly and pull her closer. She doesn't fight. She's limp in my grip, eyes wide and fixed on mine.

Oh, sweet Jesus.This girl wantswhateverI have to give. She has no idea what that would entail, but she's in my thrall.

"Nothing to say?" I murmur.

"I told you I wanted you," Roxy whispers. "Nothing has changed. I don't care if you hurt me. I’ve been hurt so many times, I barely feel it anymore."

That pulls at me. I want to find everyone who has ever offended her and throttle the life out of them. The thought brings a surge of fresh fury.

I slide my hand over her mouth, my fingertips digging into her cheek as my thumb presses her cheekbone. She could fight me, but she doesn't.

Not now. Not here.

I push her face away, and she stumbles backward a little. We stare at each other for a moment.

"Where were you going?" I ask.

Roxy is panting slightly. She swallows hard, trying to steady herself. "My apartment is just over there," she tilts her head. "I need to get my stuff, and I want my own car. "

"So let's go. You can park it at mine."

The path we're walking on is dotted with pools of light from the lamps. It's pretty, but the visibility is poor.

"So, is this where it happened?" I ask as we reach the exit.

Roxy shakes her head. "It was on the other side, near the park entrance. I was walking and never heard a thing. He tried to chloroform me, but it didn't work, and that's when he hit me."

Roxy's attacker fucked up with his administration of chloroform. He didn't realize it wouldn't induce unconsciousness, so he had to hit her to knock her out.

Typically for a copycat, he had the method correct but not the detail. He may not have been a copycat anyway. It could be a coincidence.

If I've learned anything in dealing with people, it's that our species' natural tendency to look for patterns can and will lead us into trouble. Happenstance has a sense of humor, which is why it's not true that there's no smoke without fire. There's always smoke, but when you look closer, often the only thing getting burnt isyou.

It's not right, somehow. There's a haze in front of the data like I'm trying to see it through a fogged-up window.

The quiet voice of doubt speaks up.

Or Roxy could be right,it mutters.Maybe Farraday isn't The Dollmaker, and something very fucked up is happening.

7

Roxy

We’re back at Ben’s place within the hour. We didn’t say much while we were at my apartment, but he wouldn’t let me carry my own bag. When we headed back, he made me drive in front of him.

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