Page 84 of Vicious Hearts
"Hey, Roxanne," Oliver says, fixing me with a stare. "Everyone will befascinatedby me. Psychologists will make studying me their entire careers. I'll never be lonely again. Don't you wanna stop that from happening?"
"You know whatIthink you're most afraid of, Oliver?" He frowns at my smile. "I think you're worried that no one will give a shit, and you'll be a nobody. A sad loser, just like you've always feared. You'd rather die than riskthat. Wouldn't you?"
Oliver doesn't answer, but I see the realization dawning in his eyes.
He enjoyed having a captive audience—literally—and talked too much. Like a fool, he gave away how totrulymake him suffer.
Sirens. Police cars are pulling up outside. Someone must have heard the gunshot.
"Shoot me!" Oliver howls. "Don't you want your revenge?"
"Yes." I put my hand on the gun, pushing it down, and Ben lowers it to his side. "But in this case, I don't have to choose between justice and vengeance. You'll get what you deserve."
A SWAT guy peers around the front door, his gun in hand.
"Woah," he says. "Nobody move." He glances at Oliver, who is now sobbing quietly. "That's him, right?"
"Yep," Ben replies. "I'm putting the gun down, okay?" He skims the gun along the floor to the officer.
With that, the hallway of Farraday's house is full of people. Paramedics swarm Oliver, patching him up and hauling him onto a stretcher as cops rush the place, sweeping the rooms.
I'm crashing. The adrenaline in my bloodstream is falling fast, and my head is pounding again.
A cop is yelling in my face, asking me questions, and Ben is yelling back. But I can't hear them. Everything sounds like it's underwater.
"Moira and Eddie Coffey are in the basement," I mumble. "Help them."
My knees buckle. Ben catches me and lifts me into his arms, my head against his shoulder.
31
Twenty-four hours later…
Ben
Thedéjà vuis killing me.
It didn't take long for a nurse at the hospital to patch me up. The bullet took a small piece of my shoulder opposite where I was shot last time. All it took was a handful of stitches and a gauze dressing. Now I'm getting by on Tylenol and free to go home.
I'm going nowhere without Roxy.
The private room is comfortable, with a large armchair. I sit beside her and watch her sleep.
She almost passed out in my arms as we left the Farraday house and scared me shitless, so I bundled her into a waiting ambulance. The paramedic checked her over, and it was more shock than anything. Now she's sleeping it off.
I'm exhausted. My body aches all over like I fell down a flight of stairs. I place my palm on my neck, flexing as I look down at the newspaper.
It's the tenth article I've read today, but I can't let it be. My name might appear, and I need to deal with it fast if it does.
The headline yells at me in Franklin Gothic capitals.
REALDOLLMAKER KILLER CAUGHT! SHOCK AS SET-UP AND CORRUPTION UNCOVERED.
Pictures of the Farraday house, Graham, Oliver, Hillard. And Roxy.
Hours after police attended the scene of a gruesome suicide, a story of deception, murder, and corruption has finally been uncovered.
Oliver Buckley, Managing Director of Always Home children's charity and well-known fundraiser, is in custody after the man who confessed to The Dollmaker murders, Simon Farraday, revealed Buckley framed him for the crimes.