CHAPTER EIGHT

 CRAIG

 

I STUFF THE paperwork into my back pocket. I had to get out of my room to think and that was how I ended up here. It was the only place I could find peace. But that peace was soon shattered.

Laura steps into the room, like she has just fallen down the fucking rabbit hole. The expression on her face has me stopping the words that I want to say, and I just watch.

I smile as she does. She reminds me so much of Grace at this moment. The hope, the belief, the innocence in her eyes is tearing me up. That is until she falls into the wheelchair directly in front of her. I’m not sure what startles her, but she is counting again. Something she does quite a lot. Now she looks up at the ceiling and speaks.

“Violet are you here?” She asks, and I step out from behind the bookshelf.

“Who’s Violet?” I ask, but already know she is close to Laura. It’s how she spoke the name. Maybe a friend breaking in? This would be a good spot to me. Just annoying that it’s my spot. 

I don’t seem to startle Laura like I thought my question might. Instead it looks like she isn’t breathing as she just stares at me. I wave a hand in front of her and take a step in her general direction. My movement seems to cause the life to return to her and her cheeks redden.

At first I think it’s embarrassment, but I soon realize it’s anger. The emotion swirls beneath the surface of her eyes as she tightens them.

“You know she’ll be thrown out if you tell them she stabbed you.” She doesn’t need to say who she is talking about. Michelle has been blabbing; that I expected. For people to believe her… that was unexpected. But Laura was new, so I would let it slide. I put my hands in my pockets and leaned against the bookshelf.

“I don’t want her to leave either, but she did hurt me, and seriously do you want a lunatic like that sleeping across from you?”

Laura reacts in a way I don’t expect. She throws her head back and laughs. But it’s not funny. Not one fucking bit. I push away from the shelf and stand up.

“You’re a real piece of work.”

I tighten my jaw and take a step towards her. “Look, I get you don’t like me. But Michelle’s issues aren’t my problem. I don’t know what she has said but she’s lying.” I need her to trust me, she is fiery and that kind of trait doesn’t go well with a place like this. She could end up being the one that Rose believed over me and that I couldn’t have.

 

A cat materializes beside her leg, she looks down at it and her face softens. When she looks back at me that softness is gone but I can see her consider her next words.  She takes a step back like being near me is a bad call. I hate how she looks at me now, it’s how lots of people look at me once they get to know the real Craig. “I heard your conversation with Michelle.”

Fuck

“What conversation?” I don’t need this shit. Right now I need to scare her into keeping her mouth shut. I take a step towards her, but she doesn’t even blink.

“The one where you admitted that she didn’t stab you.”

I take another step, this time a stiffness enters her small frame, yet she doesn’t move and that I admire. “Why do you care?”

“Because…” She looks away from me, her brows furrow.

“What, you think she’ll be your friend?” I know I am grasping at straws here.

“No.” She’s shaking her head, so I continue.

“You like big girls?” I say with a smile as her face turns red.

“No.”

I grin. “You say that with a ‘fuck you’ on the end.” She doesn’t react like I thought she might. Taking the cigarettes and lighter out of my pocket, I light one up. Glancing up at her I blow smoke through my nose.

She doesn’t comment on me smoking indoors or in a library.

“We all need someone to look out for us.” When she says it, it’s more of a question.

I raise an eyebrow. “So you’ve appointed yourself as the person to look out for Michelle.” She shifts now for the first time while pulling in her bottom lip to chew. It draws my attention to her full mouth, but my eyes flick back to hers as she speaks. “No. That’s not what I’m saying.”

“What are you saying?” I move closer blowing smoke around her. I’m not sure if I want to intimate her or just be closer.

“She’s delicate.” She speaks again with brows furrowed and I snort.

“Delicate isn’t a word I would use with Michelle.” Laura lets her hair fall around half her face, shielding her again. With hung shoulders, she does herself no favors in the looks department.

I take a few more pulls of my cigarette while glancing at Laura, her mouth is moving, she’s counting again. Time to leave, I tell myself while stamping the cigarette out on the ground. “Who’s Violet?” I ask before leaving. I don’t know why I ask, but right now with how Laura looks at me, like I’d kicked a fucking puppy, it makes me wish I hadn’t.

“My sister.” She whispers while I’m waving my hand in front of myself about to tell her not to answer.

“Cool.” I say. I don’t ask why she was looking for her sister in a run-down library. Frankly I don’t give a fuck. I hobble to the door, my leg aching from standing so long.

“She’s dead.” When I glance over my shoulder she’s standing in the exact same spot staring at the area that I had been standing in. I want to wave and say I’m over here. But I don’t. Because fuck me she looks so broken. My stomach twists and I hate the sensation. I start to leave but turn back to her instead.

“I’m sorry.” I find myself saying.

“What about Michelle?” Her question makes me feel okay about leaving now, even as she looks at me with pain in her eyes. The guilt that had started to gnaw at me leaves.

“It’s not up to me.” I leave the Library and hobble down the hall. It’s one long ass walk to the main part of the hospital. I’d found this place on my first week here. It was somewhere to hang out and be alone. No one came down here looking for me. The left wing was known for being haunted and unsafe, so it keeps the crazies and not so crazies away. Not sure what that made me.

Right now my mind is focused on one thing and it makes me relax as a smile pulls at my lips.  I picture Ava’s mouth working her magic.  She’ll have to do all the work since I’m injured. Maybe this will all turn out to work in my favor.

I reach the double doors that allow me back into the functioning part of the hospital when movement outside it makes me pause. Desmond, the humpy bastard, is making his way towards me. He’s security here which is a fucking joke.  Pulling up the belt of his trousers only amplifies the limp that he constantly has, after two knee replacements the fucker should be retired, or six feet under.

I turn and hobble back the way I had come, only this time not taking great care of my leg. The burn isn’t enough to make me stop. I know if Desmond catches me he won’t hesitate to report me. I’m around a corner when I hear the door open.

“Hello?” he calls. His keys jingle as he favors his right leg.

Fall, I pray he does but nope, the bastard keeps hobbling towards me.