by K Larsen
“Nora, you’re osculable.”
I wrinkle my face and shake my head.
“You are. You look so pretty tonight, too.”
I slap his shoulder playfully and laugh. “Good one.”
I’ve known the Clarks since I was ten years old. Anton’s been a big brother to me almost my whole life. He appraises me for a drawn out moment. It drags on uncomfortably.
“I think you need some water.”
I think he’s right, so I nod. As he walks me into the house, I look for Aubry but have no luck. I don’t know who she’s absconded with, but if it’s with Chad, I’ll be sure to hear all about it tomorrow. I stumble behind Anton. He has my hand and he’s leading me but he’s moving so fast I feel I can’t keep up.
I tug on his hand. “Slow down.” I feel wobbly and slurry, and more outgoing but also, not in control of myself, which gives me a tinge of anxiety. Anton opens a door and ushers me into a room.
I spin around, the room blurs by my eyes in a delayed strobe light effect. “Whoa,” I say.
“Feelin’ good, right?”
I scrunch my nose up. “Feeling . . . out of it,” I tell him.
Anton steps close to me. Puts his hands on my shoulders. I stumble a step back and start to ask for the water we’re supposed to be getting, but I’m slow and when I blink, he’s all around me.
His lips kiss my neck roughly. “Stop,” I say. “What are you doing?” The incredulity in my voice obvious.
“You have no idea how pretty you are, do you?” he says and I wince. His arms, hands, lips—they’re all over me. I feel like I’m suffocating. Drowning in Anton.
“Anton, no,” I say, firmly. I push at him but he doesn’t let up. “I’m a neophyte.”
He chuckles. “I don’t know what the fuck that is, but how ‘bout this, you’ll be a nympho by the morning.” His words are garbled. Panic rises in my chest. It blossoms into a fiery heat that creeps up my neck, making it nearly impossible to breathe. I pull back and slap him. He glares at me before pushing me onto the floor.
I kick.
I scream.
I claw.
I cry.
And lastly, I give up and play dead.
Anton; acrimony, scurrilous, disreputable.
I’m pacing. Tears spill down my cheeks. I don’t know what compelled me to tell anyone, let alone Holden. He takes me by surprise as he embraces me. With an abrupt jerk, he forces my pelvis against his own. His hands slide up my body until his hands are around my slender neck. They don’t squeeze, they simply hold and keep my head tilted, so my gaze has nowhere to go but to his. “You’re safe now. I’ll kill him. I will, Nora. That should have never happened.” I swallow thickly at his impassionment. “You are beautiful. Forcing you was wrong. Put it all behind you.” He stares at me in a way that undoes me.
“I won’t hurt you. Did you hear me?” I close my eyes. “I won’t hurt you,” he says again.
He pulls me close for a provocatively deep kiss. He opens himself to me. Through touch. Through words. I feel his pain. His experiences. His heart. I don’t fight it. I want him to kiss me. To touch me. I relax into him, into my own safety and I let go. For the first time ever, I allow my body to dictate rather than my brain. I kiss him back. My lips move with his. He tastes like whiskey and mint. I become lost in the sensation of his pliable, warm lips. A whimper escapes me. The zings shooting through my body are foreign to me. But I like it. I give in. I push my body into his. His arms are strong. Sturdy, like they can protect me from harm.
We are a tangled mess of passion. He lifts me up. Carries me to my room. “Further from Lotte,” he says, as he lays me on the bed. I’m delirious with lust. Slowly, he strips off my clothes. My t-shirt. My shorts. My underwear and bra. I pull his shirt over his head. Run my hands through his hair, his beard. What am I doing? He kisses me everywhere. Anywhere. I’m consumed in the moment. It’s everything I read about in my coveted novels. He unbuckles his pants. They drop to the floor. His ever-attached key ring clanks on the floor boards. His fingers bring me so much ecstasy, I feel like my heart is going to beat out of my chest.
“Oh, my . . .” I can’t finish my thought when his fingers are sending an overwhelming heat through me. It builds until I think my body will implode. “Come,” he rasps. My hips buck and I orgasm. My very first non-self-inflicted orgasm. My body is wracked with shudders I can’t control. He slides over me. Above me. He’s everywhere.
“Wait,” I say and put my hands on his chest. It’s too fast. I’m not ready. Not yet. Not for this. He is everywhere. I blink rapidly. His presence makes me feel claustrophobic.
“No.” His answer upsets me. “You feel too good, Nora.”
This is my fault. I urged him on. I let him give me an orgasm. I can’t just expect him to stop because I change my mind. He said he wouldn’t hurt me. It doesn’t hurt my body. My brain hurts. I don’t want to keep going. “Please, Holden, I’ve never . . . besides Ant-”
“Shh, Nora. Relax,” he says. His green eyes look right through me. The first thrust, I cry out. It’s too hard, too fast and too much for me to make sense of. I wanted this mere moments ago. But now, it doesn’t feel right anymore. I can’t stop it. I want to stop it. I think. My body finally relaxes around him and I feel something building. I urge it away because my body is a traitor. I focus on my words.
He grunts and moves in me, on me, over me. I close my eyes and grip his biceps with my hands. I squeeze so hard I am sure he will yelp from the bite of my nails but he doesn’t. When he finishes, he rolls to the side of me. Pushes back my hair from my face. “You are so goddamned incredible,” he says. He kisses my forehead gently. I force a small smile and drop one hand off the bed to find my clothes on the floor.
As Holden dresses, he tells me how stunning I am. How much I mean to Lotte and him. He kisses my cheek, then leaves. I pull the blankets over me and cry. Did I cause this? Is that what happened with Anton, too? I did want it. I was enjoying it, until I wasn’t. I don’t know what’s up or down or right or wrong. Is there a line I crossed, where it’s impossible to say no? He said he wouldn’t hurt me. It didn’t exactly hurt. Not physically anyway.
When I sleep, I see Anton’s face.
Nora
Salve has stopped pushing me. We’re blocking the corridor. His mouth agape. His eyes melancholy.
“What?” I ask. He opens his mouth to speak but snaps it shut again, without a word. “What is it?” I ask again.
“I’m sorry that happened to you.” He begins to push, and we’re off again. I don’t know what he’s sorry for. Everything worked out in the end for me. I was simply confused that first time. Maybe he is sorry for Anton but he shouldn’t be, I am so far past that event.
“Oh, will you stop here?” I ask. “ I want to see the babies.”
He rolls me to the window of the nursery. I peer through the glass at all the wiggly little bundles of pink flesh. It hits so fast, I’m taken by surprise. Pain contorts my face. I rearrange my features to a more neutral expression before Salve can notice. I press a palm to the glass. Salve hands me a tissue to wipe the tears I did not realize were pouring from my eyes.
“Nora,” his voice is soft. It sounds as though he is talking to someone else, far away. He pulls me back so he can fit between the chair and glass. “Nora, are you okay?” he asks. His eyebrows jump to his hairline at the sight of me. I cannot breathe. I cannot speak. I want to leave here. I want safe arms. I want long blonde hair to brush. Someone to read to. I am not equipped to weather this. “Let’s get you back to your room,” he says. I think I nod. I swipe at my wet cheeks with the back of my hand.
Dr. Richardson waltzes in, unannounced, while I am eating my dinner. I am surprised to see her and my expression must show it because she says, “Salve said you might need to talk sooner rather than later.” I scowl. Salve blabbed. I thought we had been talking in confidence but now I know I cannot trust him with my words. “Would you like to talk?”
“Not really.”
&
nbsp; “Salve gave me the basics of the story you told him.”
“It wasn’t a story. It was life,” I say.
She sits. Makes herself comfortable. I huff. I have no choice but to entertain her now.
“The most important thing to remember is that when an evil act is committed, the shame belongs to the perpetrator. Holden’s and your friend Anton’s shame is not your shame.”
I shoot her a pointed look. “I don’t feel shame.”
Robin folds her swishy pant legs and leans back in her chair. Her legs cross and uncross, signaling a change in tactic. “It might help our progress to put a name on what you’re experiencing. The clinical term is post-traumatic stress disorder, or PTSD. When a person experiences a physical threat, and the person’s response involves intense fear or horror, certain side effects can result. I’d like to explore if you’re experiencing any of these side effects,” she says calmly.
I roll my eyes.
“The traumatic event can be re-experienced over and over, in the form of dreams, or during the day, as intrusive thoughts. Do you have thoughts like that, Nora?”
I stare at her red heels. “Nope.” I am a liar. Holden is always on my mind.
She presses her lips together in a firm line and scribbles a note down. “We know that you have the final symptom: inability to recall certain details. That said, I’d like to hypnotize you.”
The hair at the back of my neck stands on end. “What? No. I remember everything.”
“Not the location. And that’s crucial. It will be like falling asleep. When you’re under, I’ll regress you to the moment you arrived.”
“Can’t we just wait for me to remember? It was summer when I got there and the snow makes everything look different.”
“It doesn’t always work that way. Repressed memories can stay repressed for a lifetime. We don’t have the luxury of time.”
I plead with my eyes. “I’ll try harder.”
“It’s not a matter of trying harder,” she says. Panic takes root in my belly. She cannot know the things I know. She cannot know the dreams or feelings I have. She cannot know that I love Holden. I already know she will think I’m sick. That I’m a twisted, demented mess. And despite learning that about me, it will not help recover Lotte. I can hear Holden’s voice in my head.
“I’ll come for you, Nora. I’ll hunt them down, kill them and take you back. You won’t escape me.” I stuff his presence, deep into my bowels because I can’t focus on them right now.
“What exactly do you want to know?” I ask.
“We need details, Nora. Details that only you know. That could lead us to Holden and Charlotte.”
“We don’t need to find Holden,” I say. Robin’s face contorts and she chews on the end of her pen.
“Why is that?”
I say the one truth allowed. “He will come to me.”
Then, slowly, she asks, “Do you love Holden?”
I swallow. There is a lump in my throat as I speak. “Love is the wrong word.”
“Tell me what the right word is,” she says.
“Fervent, fastidious, imperious,” I spout off, “I don’t know. He has so many words.” I’m in too deep. Brick by brick, my walls crumble. Consequences fence me in.
What is done is done. I don’t want to say a word. I want to keep all my secrets. I can feel them breathing. Hidden underneath. I’m trying to keep them safely out of reach. They creep. They come to the surface in my dreams.
“What happened after the night you told Salve about?”
Nora
The next morning is awkward. Lotte watches as Holden and I stumble around each other in the cabin and I try my best to put on a happy face for her. I don’t want her to worry about anything. I manage the percolator, while he cooks breakfast. I tiptoe around him. Luckily, everyone is ravenous and quiet in the mornings. I manage to avoid Holden until lunchtime, which is a feat.
Lotte runs to her room when the door opens and Holden steps inside, leaving me alone with him. Last night was a disaster and I’m supposed to be here for another seven weeks. How did I manage to botch this in only four weeks?
“Nora,” he says. Holden approaches and I back up a step without thinking. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
I swallow thickly and push the anger aside. “So you said.”
His eyes are molten and his smile is one of wooing. I don’t think I will survive this.
“Nora,” he says and takes my hand in his. I flinch as he reaches for it. He looks pained at the reaction. “I’m sorry about last night. I really am. I thought you wanted it and were just too shy to say so.” I say nothing because I don’t know what there is to say. “Look, why don’t I run you a bath. I’ll take Lotte out for a horse ride and leave you to it. Relax. Enjoy. Use that shampoo.”
He quickly drops my hand. He takes the bucket of water next to the sink and places it on the woodstove. When it boils, he dumps it into a large metal tub he dragged out from the corner of the kitchen. I watch him and over analyze his words. I am shy. I did want it. He repeats his actions until the tub is nearly full. Did I want it? Was I just too scared or shy to let it happen? Did Holden do me a favor? He doesn’t seem guilty like Anton was afterward. He seems sad that he upset me. Steam wafts up from the water, when he calls for Lotte. She steps out of her bedroom. She doesn’t look me in the eye.
“Come on, Lotte. We’re going for a ride to give Nora some alone time.” She pouts but steps outside at his urging. I keep my eyes on her as she stands limply behind him.
“Relax, okay? The tub will be nice.” He looks me up and down before stepping outside and closing the door behind him. I stand and watch through the window as they climb onto his horse and move away from the cabin. When they’re out of sight, I strip my clothes off and place them on the floor. I step into the tub and sigh. The water is deliciously warm. Snapping the elastic off my wrist, I pull my hair into a ponytail and freeze. A shadow dances across the wall. Covering myself as best I can, I turn slightly to look out the window but there’s nothing there. The hair on the back of my neck stands up. I feel as though someone is watching but there is nothing to support the feeling. I slide down into the tub and let the warmth wash away all my unease.
By the time I step out of the tub, I’ve washed my hair and feel fresh and clean. I also feel like the world’s biggest idiot. I made a huge deal out of Holden and me sleeping together, when it wasn’t necessary. He’s only guilty of following my lead, obeying my body language. I dress and start making dinner. When Holden and Lotte return, she looks sad. I want to ask what’s wrong but I think it best to wait until bedtime.
“Hi, guys,” I say, as cheerfully as possible. “I made dinner for you as a thank you for the bath.”
Holden drops his sack and walks to me. He pulls me close in a hug. He holds me until I let out a relieved breath and relax into his arms. In my ear he whispers, “I’m sorry. I should have stopped. Forgive me, please.” I nod my okay. He pulls back and smiles at me. The edges of his eyes crinkle. “I can go slow. I promise. Your hair smells so good.”
“I think I overreacted. Maybe,” I say.
He holds me by the shoulders. Looks me directly in the eyes. “No. You didn’t.”
And just like that, all is right in the world. I feel validated. Vindicated even. I hold his gaze and say, “I made my specialty. I hope you like it.”
Dr. Richardson
“Do you believe you overreacted?” I ask.
“I think my greatest error was believing that if I cast a lovely net, I would only catch lovely things in life.” She folds her hands on her lap, food forgotten.
“Nora, when you told him to stop, he should have stopped. Period. An apology or the fact that your body enjoyed it does not change that fact.”
“But doesn’t it?”
“Do you think that is normal in a relationship?” She looks down at her hands, twisting together in her lap.
“Well, at that point, we were not in a relationship. It w
as more a crush I had on him. Later though, I couldn’t refuse him.”
“When did you and Holden have a relationship?” I ask. She smirks. There is a spark in her eyes that says she knows I almost broke her.
“Ah, ah, Dr. Richardson, that’s not safe talk.”
“Then why don’t you tell me more from the job duration,” I say. I almost caught her enough off guard to get her to speak more about her relationship with Holden. And there definitely was a relationship, it’s written in her face when she says his name. I need to know the extent of her feelings toward him to be able to best treat her.
“I’d actually like dinner.”
“By all means, go ahead and eat,” I say.
“This is not food,” she says and spoons mushy green beans around. “Holden cooked real food. Fresh food. From the earth.” A panic look crosses her face and she clamps her lips shut.
“Would you talk to me more if I brought you some real dinner?” Nora perks up.
“What’s your favorite meal?” I ask.
“You would really go out and buy me food?”
“If you agree to talk with me more tonight.”
She props herself up in her bed. “Okay, but only about the ‘before.’”
“Deal.” I smile and stand. “What would you like?”
She thinks it over. “Mashed potatoes, steak and spinach.”
I chuckle. “I know just the place.” I take her tray and bring it to the nurses station when I leave. As I get in my car, I call in a pick-up order for Nora and me.
Lotte
I tamp down feelings of dread as I tiptoe around the cabin. For a little while, things were okay. Safe even. I still wanted to leave but there were moments of laughter and fun. The birthday candle is still on the table. My birthday should be a big deal. That’s what Nora said. We should celebrate. She made the candle just for me. It’s a rainbow of all the half used candles in the cabin melted together. Holden and Nora sang as she carried a small homemade cake to the table.