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  TAKING

  LAURA

  A BROKEN HEART SERIES BOOK THREE

  BY VI CARTER

  Other Books by Vi Carter

  A Broken Heart Series

  Saving Grace

  Claiming Amber

  Taking Laura

  All of Me Series

  All of Me

  All of You

  CHAPTER ONE

  CRAIG

  THE BERRY FLAVORED gum that I chew turns my tongue blue.

  “Michelle,” I stop her progression past my room while lowering the pink handheld mirror. The mirror was courtesy of Virgin Mary.

  “What color is my tongue?” I ask, sticking it out for her to view. The leggings she wears are stretched over her huge thighs, making the fabric see-through. My gag reflexes kick in, so I look away. The rest isn’t any better, a large red t-shirt/sheet covers the rest of her huge body. A chubby middle finger now becomes my focus. “You’re an A hole,” she says, as she stomps away like a herd of elephants.

  The corners of my mouth curl into a smile as I grin at myself in the mirror. She’s color blind so I never let an opportunity to tease her pass. Her colored blindness is not the only things I like to make fun of either. Carrying way too much weight than is acceptable on someone’s poor ankles, I always want to offer Michelle a seat. You know, to take the weight off.

  “Why are you always teasing her?” Virgin Mary asks as she enters my room, making a beeline for the bed across from me. She sits down and starts to bite her nails. Red seems to be the color of the day with the beasts. Virgin Mary sports a red tracksuit, which looks fit for the top of a bonfire.

  “Why are you in my room?” More to the fucking point.

  “That’s my mirror!” Wide-eyed, she reaches for the mirror that I let fall from my fingers by accident. The satisfaction I feel at hearing it break makes me smile. Virgin Mary, on the other hand, screams while looking at the mirror, hands held out towards it, like I’d dropped her fucking new born baby on its head.

  “Why?” It’s hard to take her seriously. Blue eyeshadow is caked all the way up to her eyebrows, which are drawn on. I swallow the laughter that bubbles up in my throat as she runs out into the hall, screeching like a crazy bitch. Fuck my life this very day. I shouldn’t have broken the mirror. The hassle that will follow isn’t worth it.

  Actually, it is.

  Lying back on my bed, I place my arms behind my head and watch the drama unfold. It’s the only entertainment that I get in this place, so I will enjoy it.

  “He broke my mirror!” Her repeated words have me wishing I had a door to slam in her ugly face. She has a voice that’s high-pitched, whiny and just begs for a gag. No wonder she’s still a virgin. Her blond hair is chopped close to her chin, straw-like and wild; she took the scissors to it herself and it showed.

  “Calm down, Maria.” Sister Annunciata coos as she arrives on the scene. The habit she wears gives the illusion that she’s gliding across the floor. The large brown beads that she no more prays with rattle as she moves beside Virgin Mary. When she looks into my room with her blue, beady eyes, she shields Maria from me.

  I snort at her. Like she never had a bad thought in her very long and boring life. Never wanted someone to pull that habit off her and give it to her.

  Nope.

  Her eyes narrow at me, her thin and dry lips that cry for some balm, lift in disgust, as if my thoughts are displayed on my face.

  “Her virginity is still intact, sister. But if you stand there looking like that much longer, I can’t promise yours will be.” She grunts in revulsion before taking a squealing Virgin Mary with her. I turn on my belly and tuck my pillow between my hands to give it the illusion that I have two pillows, not one threadbare one. The broken mirror on the ground catches the light and my attention. Blood pumps through my veins and loudly in my ears, and I turn away from it, facing the wall.

  “We got a new one.” I don’t turn as Michael speaks to me from what sounds like the room doorway.

  “That’s great news. That’s what we need here. More crazy fuckers,” I speak half into my pillow not caring if he understood me. His snort of laughter says he does.

  “She’s hot.” I turn to a grinning Michael. All six foot of him fills the doorway. He wears the same green and white striped jersey that he does every Friday, along with the same pair of faded jeans that I swear he wears most days.

  Today new admissions come and today we make an effort. Bored is an understatement. This place makes you think about taking your life.

  I’m out of bed, pulling down my Friday t-shirt, its green the same color as my eyes. The ladies love it.

  LAURA

  My long brown hair covers my face from all the prying eyes. I focus on the heels of Mrs. Rose’s shoes. They are the sensible type of shoes, good for standing in. I focus on the trim around the heel, the crisscross of each stitch, it’s my anchor. Laughter from a table we pass sends a shiver through me. But I don’t dare look up.

  One. Two. Three ... I count each step. It takes fifty-four steps to leave the large room. Another thirty-one and we stop. The legs of an old table, one you might find in a school, keeps my focus now. I focus on the scratches, the chipped, blue paint, anything other than the world around me.

  “Laura, take a seat,” I don’t look up at Rose as she speaks. Shuffling to the chair, I keep the table leg in focus. Once seated, I focus on the jug of water that sits on a small, plain table beside Rose. Her hands face upwards, open. I smile at the illusion of safety she is trying to create.

  “Do you want to tell me why you are smiling?” Rose dips her head, trying to see me through my sheet of hair. I’m not smiling now. I count to thirty, take a deep breath and push my hair away from my face.

  “Your hands,” I swallow, my throat burning.

  Rose doesn’t speak right away, she just pours me a glass of water before placing it on the table in front of me. I thank her before drinking the full glass. She refills it and sits back. “My hands made you smile?” Rose questions, a soft smile on her lips now.

  “You held them face up to give me the sense of safety, honesty, and openness.” I take another drink.

  “Yes I did, Laura. You are safe now,” Rose tilts her head, giving me another smile, also meant to offer safety.

  She’s wrong. I will never be safe, but I just smile back. “Thank you, Mrs Rose,” I tuck strands of hair behind my ear, before running my hands across the thighs of my black trousers.

  “Would you like to talk about it?” The chair squeaks under her as she sits back fully, a sign that someone is getting ready for a long sit-in.

  “Not right now.” My answer doesn’t please her as she moves forward in her chair. “I am not hiding from it or burying it. I know I have to deal with it sooner or later. But right now, I don’t want to.”

  She soaks up my words before standing. “Thank you, Laura, for being honest and trusting me.” I stand too, knowing it’s the correct thing to do. My hands itch to pull the sleeves of my black sweater down over my fingers, but I remain still.

  “I’ll take you to your room.” Rose pauses, her hand on the doorknob. Whatever she is going to say, she doesn’t, she just opens the door. I let my hair cover my face and focus on her heels again. It takes us seventy-nine steps; we pass twenty-one doors and three other people.

  “This is only for a few nights until you get settled, then you will be sharing.” My stomach tightens at the thought of sharing with another person. But I nod. Rose lingers for a few more seconds. Once I push my hair away from my face, she seems more satisfied and departs, leaving me with four walls and an unmade bed. The steel locker is tall and thin. It won’t hold much in terms of clothes, but that’s okay. I don’t have any clothes with me anyway, only the ones I wore and my bag is at reception where it has to be checked. Once they search it and find nothing harmful, then it will be returned.

  I sit on the side of the bed, counting three stains on the beige carpet. My black and beige sneakers become my sole focus. They also have stains on them. I swallow the lump in my throat before unlacing them, making sure not to touch the stains. The green door that has been partially closed opens fully. I throw my shoes under the bed before looking up slowly.

  “Hi, we wanted to say, ‘welcome’.” A girl close to my age gives a little wave, she holds her arm against the side of her body while waving her hand; the movement looks odd. I count five fingers. Each nail painted a different color.

  Fun, is the word I think of while looking at her.

  “I’m Michelle,” she moves towards me, offering me her hand. The gesture is unusual to see in someone so young. Mostly older people go with a hand shake when meeting you. I take her hand anyway, and she turns my hand over. “What color are your nails?”

  I hesitate with my answer.

  “I’m color blind.”

  My cheeks heat at her confession. “Red.”

  “Like blood.” I added unnecessarily.

  “I don’t like blood,” the other girl speaks, moving towards
Michelle. She links her arm with Michelle’s, who in turn releases my hand. “I’m Maria.”

  Maria doesn’t offer her hand. I’m glad. Her long, black gloves give me the impression that she doesn’t like to be touched. She wears them with a white t-shirt and red tracksuit bottoms. A red sweater is tied around her waist. The overall combination is confusing.

  “Laura,” I introduce myself. Michelle unlinks herself from Maria and takes a wander around my tiny and empty room as Maria continues to stare at me. I shift awkwardly on the bed. “You’re really pretty.” Maria folds her arms and looks away. Michelle sniggers.

  “Don’t be a sour puss, Maria. You’re pretty, too.” Michelle still holds laughter in her voice. After the inspection of my room, she sits down beside me. The bed dips. Michelle smells like old people. She has to be about twenty, but that’s what she smells like.

  “Are you a cutter? I pegged you for a cutter.”

  “Jesus Michelle, you don’t just ask,” Maria widens her eyes at Michelle, who bumps shoulders with me playfully. I can’t answer, as I am too focused on Maria’s eyeshadow. The blue goes all the way up to her eyebrows.

  “We are all thinking it. Some may even take bets.”

  “Michelle, I’m going to tell,” Maria shakes her head, but there, in her eyes, I can see she wants to know too. Like Michelle says, they are all thinking it.

  I swallow before answering. “No, I’m not a cutter.” This conversation is bizarre, and making me uncomfortable.

  “Damn,” she clicks her fingers.

  “She lost her stash of m&m’s for that.” Maria’s eyes narrow further, making them impossible to see. Widening them now, she holds her arm over her head while tilting her head to the side and sticking her tongue out. “DIY kind of girl?” she asks.

  “No,” is the only answer I can give. This is bizarre. Is she really asking me if I’d try to hang myself?

  “Okay, don’t tell us then. But I knew you hadn’t tried to hang yourself. No marks on your neck.” Michelle bumps shoulders with me again. I shift away from her and the old person smell.

  “When you’re ready, we’re here.” Maria moves from side to side, an innocent look on her face. I can only nod.

  The mattress moves up and down as Michelle starts to bounce. “Oh, we have to warn you about Craig,” Michelle seems excited.

  “He is the devil,” Maria adds, while crossing her arms over her large chest. “He smashed my mirror.”

  “Seven years of bad luck for him,” Michelle sings back before pulling on my arm. “Anyway, he is like gorgeous. Green eyes that you will fall into…” Michelle actually fans herself.

  Maria rolls her eyes. “Once he cut a hole in all my tops,” she pointed at her chest, “Right between my breasts. The pervert.”

  Michelle snorts. “He is like panty dropping good-looking. Tattoos, piercings. Real bad boy.”

  “Jesus Michelle, you sound like you’re trying to sell him. I thought you wanted to warn her?” Maria taps her foot. This was almost comical. It would have been, if I wasn’t already so emotionally drained. A muffled voice passes my door, but with Maria and Michelle talking, I can’t hear what is being said.

  “Give me a second, Maria. I’m getting to it. You don’t have to take the fun out of everything.” Michelle looks annoyed now. I glance at her, a little afraid of what she might do.

  Looking at me seems to settle her, she smiles. “Anyway, before I was rudely interrupted,” she cuts Maria a look before turning back to me. “He is a womanizer, cruel, and honestly, if you have a heart, you need to keep it away from him. Basically, like Maria said, he’s the devil,” Maria seems pleased to be back in Michelle’s good graces, and smiles.

  “Thanks for the warning,” I say. I want nothing more than to be alone, so I try and give them a hint to leave without being rude. The last thing I want to do is get on anyone’s bad side, “I better make my bed.” I take the rolled-up duvet and piece of cloth that is meant to be my pillow and stand up.

  “Oh yeah, sure.” Michelle sounds disappointed.

  “Thanks again for the warning,” I tell them both while clutching my bedding, hoping they’ll go away.

  “No problem,” Maria is the first out the door. Michelle follows, but she pauses at the door. “He’s going to hit on you,” she says, sounding almost jealous.

  “Who?” I ask.

  “Craig,” she moves around the corner and out of sight. I sit back down with my belongings. I don’t’ care about Craig or what he did, or whoever he is. All I want is to sleep one night without the fear of being awakened.

  I shiver.

  CHAPTER TWO

  CRAIG

  “I THINK SHE’S hot,” Michael kicks the wall, leaving a foot mark on it. It slows him down, but he catches up to my slow stride easily. The walls are all scuffed and marked from jackasses like Michael. This place is lost for an interior designer. That would never happen here.

  “Who?” He kicks the wall again, aiming higher and nearly lands on his ass. I glance at him wishing he would fall and give me a moment’s peace, but he’s beside me now.

  “The new girl.” Michael says as he catches up with me.His breaths are short and close to the back of my neck. I swipe my neck while glaring at him.

  “What the fuck?” I ask annoyed. Now I want a fucking shower. He grins and shrugs but moves alongside me. I scratch my neck where I swear his breath lingers.

  Some days I can’t fucking stand him, like today. He really has shit for brains. But he is the only person here who I can stand for any kind of long period of time. If I was on the outside, I wouldn’t speak to him. He’s a dick.

  “The girl who looks like she belongs in a horror movie? You know, the one where she stands in the corner of the attic just waiting to kill the home owners?” I say while pushing open the green door in front of me. I let it go hoping it hits Michael square in the face, but his huge foot stops it from hitting him. The new girl had walked through the communal room yesterday being led by Rose. Her hair hung all over her face, she was straight out of a horror movie.

  “I like them gothic and shit,” he says while pushing past me.

  We enter the room where group therapy happens. Nothing ever changes here. The same bookshelves filled with the same crap, still greets me from the far wall. A whiteboard takes up most of the top of the room and now a circle of grey chairs wait for us to pour out our pain and crappy lives like vomit all over the floor.

  Michael claims his seat between Michelle and Virgin Mary. He grins at me while both girls glare. He’s such an idiot.

  My target, Ava, sits next to Michelle. She doesn’t glare at me, but she doesn’t smile either. She’s pissed with me like most of the people in this facility. And then, finally, beside her sits the new girl.

  Her face is covered once again by her long hair, I can only see her mouth move. I noticed she did the same thing yesterday as she walked through the main room. She’s also wearing the same clothes.

  Classy.

  I look at the three empty chairs to my left. One is for Olivia, our therapist, and Ethan, another resident. I sit in the centre with an empty chair either side of me.

  “You not going to talk to me, Ava?” Ava glances at me, her cheeks reddening. She takes a look at everyone quickly before looking back at me. Her nostrils flare.

  “Why should I?” She flicks her hair like she’s in a shampoo commercial. I keep the grin, seeing it’s flustering her. She’s the hottest thing this place has got, so as much as I hate chasing, sometimes you just got to swallow your pride. I take a deliberate peek down her V-neck blue sweater that shows her cleavage off nicely before looking right back at her.

  “Because I’m the best lay here, and you know it.” I wink at her, and she squirms in her seat while trying to keep a smile at bay. I’m winning.

  “Oh, I think I’m going to be sick.” Michelle, the mouthpiece, crosses her fat legs. Not sure how she manages that. I don’t give her any attention, but keep my focus on Ava, who narrows her eyes at Michelle. That a girl.