Page 58 of Vicious Hearts

Oliver lowers his voice. “Why? This man is a reprobate and a blackmailer, and I don’t want his dirty hands on my charity for a minute longer. Whatever is going on here, I will back you up. Tell me.”

“I don’t want to pull you into something, Oliver. But I’m gonna go and see Lois Farraday. Ben can find out where she lives.”

“What would that achieve? Farraday is crazy, and Lois hates him. You said so yourself. ”

“Farraday is sane. The Dollmaker framed him and threatened his family’s lives if he spoke out. Someone on the inside was inducing madness with hallucinogens and tanking his appeal prospects, but he’s been ducking his meds and feigning psychosis. When he sees his wife safe and well, he’ll have the courage to tell the truth. I need you to trust me when I say Graham is the problem.”

“I catch your drift,” Oliver says. I can hear his voice cracking with tears. “I’m scared for you. You’re taking your man with you, I hope?”

I glance at Ben, but he’s not looking at me.

No. I’m not taking Ben with me.

“No,” I say. “Ben’s gonna stay around here and keep an eye on the situation. I’ll be okay, I promise. Just let me know if Graham leaves. Can you do that?”

“Of course I can. I’d better get back to him. He thinks I’m in the bathroom.”

“You’re taking a huge risk, Oliver. Thank you.”

“Rox, you’re like family to me,” he sighs. “You lost your parents, and I never knew mine at all. People like us gotta stick together.” He hangs up.

I turn to Ben. “When we find out where Lois is, I’m going alone,” I say. “We know where Graham is. You need to stay here in case he does something.”

Ben stares at me, and for a long moment, no one speaks.

“Fine,” he says. “As soon as Giulia gives me the information, you go to Lois Farraday, and I’ll park outside your workplace like a fucking idiot.”

He gives me a grin. I forget myself and smile back before remembering what I wanted to ask him.

“Oh yeah.” I fold my arms and tilt my head like a quizzical bird. “WhoisGiulia, exactly? You seemed very familiar.”

Ben smirks. “Jealousy looks pretty on you,charodeyka. No, she is not my ex. She likes me, though. It makes my life easier if I play along. She’s put my request at the top of her to-do list because I have enough sense to flirt when necessary, but I’m not always sweet to her.”

“So you’re playing with her? Manipulating a woman into giving you what you want?”

He shrugs. “Look, I’ve known her for a long time, but I never had sex with her. I turned her down. She didn’t expect it, so she’s always chasing validation that she matters to me because it was such a kick to her self-esteem.” He gives a sharp laugh. “Intermittent reinforcement is the cornerstone of behavioral psychology and all too powerful. It causes addiction on a biological level, fucking with your dopamine. You read this stuff. You know that already.”

Yeah, I heard that before. But the textbook description hits differently to the cold reality playing out in my life.

Ben is talking about deliberately creating a dysfunctional attachment because it gives him control. This ispreciselywhat he’s done to me, but in my case, he dominated my body and my mind until I was utterly powerless to resist.

Hespecificallywarned me about this. Told me he’d hurt me for kicks. That he’s Machiavellian and enjoys it.

Look at how he pivots from angry to tender in an instant. His rage is on a hair-trigger, his actions impulsive, yet he’s capable of deep thought and profound connection. Or so I thought.

I’m a slut, a sorceress, a fuck-doll, his good girl. He degrades me, praises me, and degrades me again.

Am I on a pedestal or face-down in the dirt?There’s no way of knowing for sure. And that’s the point.

He knew I’d eat up this bullshit because he saw my pathetic love-starved heart from a million miles away. He played a long game and kept me guessing. Maybe hedidtry to avoid doing this, but like the little fool I am, I threw myself back into his life and at his feet.

He doesn’t love me. Never has, never will. He just knows how to bind my stupid, pliable heart to his vicious one.

He’s a bad guy. But he wasn’t dishonest about it. I’m here because Iwantedto be, just like when I crept into his bed in Hawaii.

“I wish you’d lied about who you are,” I say, “but you didn’t. It’s all games to you, and I’m just a kid, a silly little girl. You could be mine, for real, but you don’t care to be. Why would you?”

Ben furrows his brow. “I don’t see what the problem is here. Are you pissed that I know another woman? Because a minute ago, we were talking about your ex, the murdering sociopath.” He jabs a finger at me. “Youhave a type, Rox. Don’t fucking blame me for your savior complex. Do you cling to psychos because you think you can redeem them? Trying to be enough when you weren’t enough for your daddy?”

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