Page 54 of Vicious Hearts

I have to be honest—part of me enjoys the violence, even under these less-than-ideal circumstances. I enjoy watching the words make the rage that makes the punch. Fascinating and such fun to manipulate people to this extent.

But it’s not hard to bring out the worst in a guy like Benedikt. I think he occupies some of the same dark spaces where I tend to lurk. He just cares more and likes it less, which is a pity. It would have been helpful if the bastard wasn’t so connected because I’d have been able to keep him from getting in my way, but I’m not equipped to tangle with the Bratva.

Momma is worried. She doesn’t want anything bad to happen to her only son, and who can blame her?

I have significant and vital work to do. I want to preserve my greatness and not be denied my dues.

Roxanne is no longer Farraday’s cheerleader. My man at the secure hospital confirmed that. Farraday is still as mad as ever—that is, not at all—and now he has no one on his side.Good.

He rolled over like a little bitch when I went to him with my proposition. Any man with an instinct for self-preservation would have told me to fuck myself, family be damned. If I hadn’t been so worried about him deciding to do just that, I wouldn’t have started dosing the guy, but either way, he’s not gonna be saying my name any time soon.

It’sRoxannewho is the catalyst of my downfall.

Her connection to me made me feel safe. She got so close and yet never smelled the blood. Never smelled the fuckingsicknessthat oozes from every pore. She understands me like no one else ever did. Served me empathy on a silver platter, and I gobbled it up.

But she had to be agoodperson. She had tocareabout Farraday and seek justice like it actually exists. She may as well search for true love or the milk of human kindness while she’s at it.

I feel myself unraveling like a ball of string, running away and getting tangled up.

Oh, Roxanne. Living Roxanne.I hate to see you in this state of decay. If you dare to come to me, you’ll see what power I have. I can halt time in its tracks. That man of yours will never appreciate you like I could—like Iwill. He’ll watch you age and wither like grapes languishing unharvested on the vine.

I make dolls, not wine. Let me harvest you. Then I’ll celebrate my glorious resurgence by growing gerberas in your fucking eye sockets.

Maybe then you’ll finally be pretty.

19

Ben

Iwake up to a cold space beside me and no sounds of life. For a moment, I think something has happened, and I leap from the bed, bolting into the lounge.

Roxy is asleep on the rug like a cat, the sun streaming through the window. I feel a rush of relief and sit on the couch, watching her.

A feeling is pressing on my head, weighing me down.

This woman is stealing into places I don’t want her to be. The parts of my psyche evenIdon’t fucking visit.

I didn’t try to stop her. That’s the worst thing. The acid loosened me up, but all she had to do was nudge me, and that was it. I told her everything.

No. I didn’t tell thewholetruth. Somewhere in my addled brain, the sentinel guarding my worst memories was still at his post.Thank fuck for that.

I told her she didn’t know what I was capable of. Long may she remain ignorant. But now I’ve outright lied about it, right to her face.

Can I keep it from her?Yes, I can.

Revealing my deepest pain is a risk I just can’t accept. I need to keep the upper hand, keepcontrol. If Roxy knew what festers in my shattered soul, she’d want to fix it, like the good person she is.

I don’t want to watch her struggle to mend what’s broken. Not when I know she’ll fail.

I set my coffee machine doing its thing, and the noise jars Roxy awake. She sits up and rubs her face, blinking.

“Why are you on the floor,charodeyka?”

She frowns. “I couldn’t sleep, so I got up for a while, then crashed. I was thinking about Graham.”

“Oh, fuckingwereyou?” The words are louder and harsher than I intended.

She grimaces and gets to her feet, throwing a couch cushion at me. It misses by a foot.

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